Subscribe to Outside Magazine
advertisement
Survival Guru

Today's Question
How do you make primitive snowshoes? answer

What should you do if you get lost driving in a snow storm? answer

Eco Adventurer

Today's Question
What is the greenest ski and snowboard on the market? answer

Can I really damage a coral reef with sunscreen while snorkeling? answer

Videos Ask Dave
  • What kind of dog will make me look manlier? answer
  • Is there a sport that safely combines my twin passions for guns and kayaks? answer
  • How come most of the world's cultures enjoy eating goat, but Americans don't? answer

Online Favorites

Special Issues

Photo Galleries
save this page print this page email this page
  • share this page

Outside Magazine September 2004
Page:
1 2 3 4 5 

Out There
Tribe of Pain (Cont.)

AS FOR ME, out of the mistaken belief that the top-notch cutoff time is 1:30 and not 1:20, I push myself the last 2.5 miles with dreams of grandeur. I finish in 1:30:56 for a non-dreamy 201st place. Still, the fact that every finisher is received like a survivor from some misbegotten Arctic expedition is nice. Neil, disoriented, misses the summit turn and is headed into the roadside crowd when his 12-year-old daughter catches up with him, steers him back on course, and runs with him across the finish line.

There are dozens of crash tales, rumors of dogs and squirrels wind-driven into the air like old leaves, and the specter of not one but two finishers vomiting on the race announcers. Many riders acknowledge being ripped off their bikes in the last mile. Well past the three-hour all-clear time, there are still folks on the course weaving precariously between descending cars.

A few months ago, when I told a friend who once ran to the top of Mount Washington that I planned to enter the cycling race, he offered some advice. You will look for the top of the hill, he said. It is natural. It is human. But it will kill you. Don't look up, he warned, because the top won't come.

At 9:12 a.m., I'm wearing a warm fleece blanket and an Olympic-style medal around my neck. I look up at the last 100 yards of the mountain, but still can't see the top through the fog. It doesn't matter. For me, the other commoners, and several pros, there is a new and wonderfully preoccupying thought: Next year.
Page:
1 2 3 4 5 

• Subscribe to Outside and get a FREE Gift!
• Give the gift of Outside Magazine!
• Subscribe to Outside Online's free weekly e-mail newsletter featuring gear reviews, fitness advice, galleries, podcasts, and more.