My favorite part of our races is seeing Slick’s smiling face cheering me on just before the finish line; he is a much faster runner and waits for me there. Rarely do Slick and I run races without the other. Once, he had to work on a Sam Costa Half Marathon race morning; I decided to brave the below freezing temps and run the race, anyway. I also ran a neighborhood 5K on a Saturday morning that he had to work. The two runs without him were hardly momentous ones, so I did not feel Slick’s absence at the finish line as much as I did last weekend.

Several months ago, some men from our church decided to form an Iron Warrior Dash team (15.4 mile obstacle course run in Michigan). It was a male bonding experience, so no females were invited. I was a little disappointed, so I looked up other races for the same day. I found my race:  the US Air Force Marathon at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base (Ohio). Having been in the US Air Force, I had told myself that if I ran a marathon that would be the one I would run. I signed up, arranged for a friend to make the trip with me, and started training. Slick thought I was just trying to one up the guys, but I really wanted to run the Air Force Marathon. Okay, at first I was just trying to one up them, but it turned into a personal challenge for me.

Last weekend we ran our respective races. The men bonded over 15 miles, and I completed my first road marathon amid the shouts of “Go Dawn!” from spectators reading my name off of the race bib. But as I took in the excitement of the frenzied fans on the sideline, and I looked for my friend, Kim, in the crowd, I still felt a twinge of sadness at not seeing that familiar, smiling face cheering me on with, “Good job, Honey!” as I approached the finish line. Sharing that moment with Slick was the only thing missing from an excellent 26.2 mile running experience.

Right after the August 2012 Warrior Dash (3 miles of running, mud, and obstacles), Slick and I signed up for the 2013 race. We figured, since our church would be taking a group again in 2013, we would get the best possible price with the early registration. It is easy to get excited about a race a year in advance, when the rush of performing well is still fresh in your mind. A lot can happen in a year.

Fast forward to present day. I decided about a month ago to sign up for the Air Force Marathon. The added miles made it difficult to train for both a short, trail, obstacle race and a long distance road race. I decided to get a massage the Tuesday before the Warrior Dash, to ease the tight muscles. It did not have the effect I was expecting, giving me terrible knee pain days before the Dash. My wonderful partner in crime was brushing his teeth the Sunday before the Dash, stood up, and tweaked a muscle in his lower back. What a pair!

We managed to mend enough to start the race. My knee was tender, so I only completed the obstacles that would not cause it further harm. About 3/4 of the way through the race, I was getting ready to climb a wall, when I heard Slick’s voice. How could that be? He should be done by now!

“I hurt my back,” I heard him say to one of our friends.

I looked over, and there was my honey, in obvious pain. Since I had given up ‘racing’ when the Dash started, I decided to walk the rest of the course with Slick. I did climb the last wall (with help from a friend), jump over the burning logs of fire, and swim through the last mud bog, just for kicks. I would later regret this, when it took three hours to get both of our clothes and shoes hosed off, rinsed in the sink, and through the washer.

We did not finish feeling like tough warriors, but we did do as much as we physically could, and we completed the course together. Even though we may find our bodies do not perform the way we want them to or the way they used to, the best part of any race is sharing the experience with my best friend.

We had a wonderful July 4th celebration. We started the day by biking about 2-3 miles to run a local 4.5 mile race. The weather was not unbearably hot, although humid. We told each other that we would not push it, because one of us had suggested we run a 9.3 mile hilly trail race at a state park in southern Indiana two days later, and the other agreed it would be a great idea. Of course, neither of us held back and ran much faster than we had predicted. After the race, we biked home, showered, and had a picnic and late fireworks with Miranda, Adam, and our grandson.

The next day, I got the camper ready for a trip to the state park that was holding the trail race, and Slick worked all day. When he got home, we drove to the campground, set up camp, and went to bed. Waking on race day morning, my legs felt tired and my foot was sore from all the activity and the previous race. It was lightly raining, and I contemplated switching from the 15K to the 5K. Slick thought he might switch, also, since his back was hurting. We arrived at the event in a misty rain, got our 15K race bibs at the registration tent, walked to the start line, and stood under the vending machine shelter out of the drizzle. Neither one of us likes to back down from a challenge, obviously.

The race started with a mile incline on the horse trail. Horse trail. As in horses walk along and drop whatever comes out. The start was thick, slick, and squishy with mud, and we had to dodge road apples left by the horses. Well, I dodged; some people ran straight through. A short time into the race, the rain stopped. The course left the horse trail and switched to a narrow, rolling hills, mostly dry section of trail, which made me wonder if the squish at the beginning was only mud. Once again, we ran faster than we had predicted, only this time the hilly terrain was much harder on the legs and feet, and the distance was exhausting after exerting ourselves in a race two days earlier.

After I caught my breath, we sprayed off with a hose, went back to the campground, showered, and spent time with family who were also camping. Slick played baseball with some of the kids; I tried to not fall asleep. Every time I stood up after sitting for a while, my legs felt like an old locomotive trying to get the wheels going. The next day, Slick had a sore foot, and I had several sore body parts, including a foot and hamstring.

As we near 50 years old, maybe we will take on less challenges, but I doubt it. In September, Slick is already signed up for a male bonding experience 15 mile obstacle run with men from our church, and I am signing up for the Air Force Marathon. People may think we are crazy, but we understand each other.