50/20


One time in the middle of the last century John F. Kennedy thought Americans were turning into a bunch of soft in the middle, effete wussies. His solution? A fifty mile hike to be finished in less then 20 hours. The original 50/20 is still held somewhere every year but we held a knock off in Santaquin for a couple of years there in the late eighties and the early nineties. When I was hearing about it I thought that fifty miles didn't sound like that far, t is very far but I was young and like they say, the young are idiots. The first time I walked it I was 12 years old and full of unreasonable optimism. My mom gave me some sound advice about wearing some nylons under my regular socks to prevent blisters. She also gave me some rather unsound advice about carrying a fricking ton of water food and first aid supplies. There were minders all along the way and rest stops every five miles or so making my backpack full of sundries a massive waste of energy and a brutal downward strain on my shoulders so I ditched it about five miles in. I had started out with a group of family and friends and by the first rest stop about five miles in we were all feeling just fine. We were laughing and joking and even frolicking if that could be done. By the tenth mile tempers were decidedly less chipper. After the fifteenth mile the sun was starting to go down and about half of the boys and all of the girls called it a night and got rescued by a minder van. The survivors and I trudged the next six miles in the dark down a canyon and the rest of my intreped band called it a night at the 21st mile. Lightweights. I sandwiched and souped up and was ready for the really hard part – the next 29 miles. Alone. In the dark. On the highway. Spooky. I was determined and I went of softly into that dark night. At the next stop 6 more miles down the road I was really planning on quitting but I met up with a man and his daughter who were both walking at a really brisk pace and even though I was sore and tired their company was more than worth the extra protection from the baddies that seemed to lurk behind every shadowed tree and around every farm building. About four in the morning at the forty mile stop I couldn't summon the energy to keep up with them and they wished me luck and blasted out of there still power walking after 40 hard miles. God's speed you walking fools, god's speed. There was the slightest breeze and the slightest light coming around the hill I had to round to finish my march and shove it in JFK's face. I do realize he is dead but metaphorically, you know? With six miles left to go I was so tired and sore and emotional that I was doing a zombie shamble and crying as the sun came up. I have never wanted to quit and not quit something so badly in my entire life. At the lowest point in my journey a guardian angel in the form of a middle aged scout master came to my rescue. He gave me a graham cracker and told me it was not that far and that if I walked as hard as I could I would be done in two hours. Two hours? Oh, hell no. I decided to quit and end it right then and there but he took me under his arm and told me it would be okay and that no one as young as I had ever finished the 50/20 and he knew I would be so disappointed if I made it 46 miles and quit. He was right I knew but I was so exhausted and in so much pain I was thinking a little shame might be a small price to pay. Before I knew it I had limped and cried my way through another mile and there were only three to go. Knowing that I got a second, or perhaps third wind and pressed on with renewed vigor. The road was very flat and I could see the church that was the finish line from a mile and a half away which gave me a tangible goal and false hope as I closed the final mile. When I stumbled into the church lawn my mom was there and I hugged her and cried and got in the car with little fanfare. When I got home I got in a hot bath and fell asleep . She came and woke me up and I dried off and got on the toilet and fell asleep. I woke up a while later with completely numb legs and only enough energy to walk to my bed and there I slept for 20 hours strait. I couldn't walk well for about a week and couldn't be prouder to tell everyone why I was limping. Sadly, not many people were all that impressed and it turned out that even though no one younger than twelve had ever finished there had been younger twelve-year-old's who had. I still got a medal and a savings bond that would be worth 50 bucks in 10 years. I cashed it in for the face value the next day. Take that Kennedy.