See M run

M ran a 50-mile race last Saturday.  Yes, you read that right.  No, I did not mean to type "5-mile."  Nor did I mean to type 50 kilometer.  I meant 50 miles.  Normal people do not do this.  Normal people cannot do this.  And in my (normal) opinion, normal people should not want to do this.  But he did.  It was 50 miles at high elevation, some of it along the continental divide.  There were many many stream crossings.  There were places where the trail was so steep it was possible only to walk, not run.  There were places where there was no trail, just scree fields.  C.R.A.Z.Y.

Here he is coming into the finish:

He's not even crawling! Or sobbing! He even had enough strength left to pick up Z as he crossed the line:

We saw him twice along the course. At mile 15.7, around 8:30 in the morning, where the kids had a nice picnic breakfast while we waited:

The second time we saw him was at mile 40, around 4:00 in the afternoon. The plan had been for me to pace him from there to the finish, but my ankle is still hurting and I haven't run so much as one mile for three weeks now. Sad. But that's another story. Anyway, I probably would have slowed him down, because somehow he got a second wind and ran the last ten miles pretty fast.

The moral of this story: M is a bad ass. And slightly crazy.