I am not a huge “weather watcher.” I figure if it is going to be rainy, then I’m wet. Snowy, then I wear mittens. Sunny…so many cute options to wear…
Tornadoes, though…there just isn’t a whole lot of messing around to be done with those. As we started our packing list for Oklahoma last week, the severe weather alerts started popping up. I scrolled through the week’s weather, saw the sunny skies on their way, and put it out of my mind. How lucky I am to be able to do that.
Because the people of Barnsdall, Oklahoma do not have that luxury. As I checked in to our cabin in Osage Hills State Park, the girl who handed me my keys said, “Wow, you got lucky with the weather. There’s a town not 16 miles from here that was completely destroyed by an EF-4 tornado just yesterday.” FEMA workers were convening in a nearby barn to help with relief efforts.
Locals were not daunted by this, however, and over 400 people came into the park the next day for the trail race. “Tornadoes? Yep…they happen a lot around here…you just have to keep going. Kind of like this 3 mile uphill climb we’re on. Can’t stop just because it’s a little tough…”
This from a woman who has lost 3 different homes to tornadoes in Oklahoma during her lifetime.
It was this woman’s sister who told me that the 15 ticks I’d pulled off my socks/shoes/arms/legs so far were really “a lot better” than they had been just a few short weeks ago.
Huh???
“Oh yeah,” she said, with the same nonchalance as the tornado conversation. “They can get bad, but you just brush ’em off and move on. It’s just a bug.”
It’s just a bug. Well, it’s just 15 bugs, but I guess they don’t bother counting them down here…so…when in Rome…
I kept plodding up the hill and shifted my perspective. It’s just a bug. And this race is something I signed up to enjoy. Time to enjoy it. The rocks, the waterfalls, the people, the challenge…it all came together for me and the finish line was in sight. I could smell the tacos from where I was in the forest, though I couldn’t seem to get my feet to move any faster.
I came upon a younger woman who was struggling. “My chest hurts,” she told me. This is not a good sign in any situation, let alone an endurance race. I got her to slow down and get her heart rate under control, then we started up again.
“I’m just going to stay right here behind you,” the woman told me a number of times. I gave her distances to keep her focused.
“Only a quarter of a mile left,” I told her. “Now two-tenths.”
Literally at .05 miles (straight uphill, on a trail of rocks and boulders), the woman snapped her head up. “We’re here?” she asked. “Is that TACOS? Do I smell tacos?” The woman grabbed my arm and sped up. “Come on! Finish strong!”
I told her to finish ahead of me and find the tacos, which she went on to do.
The woman finished ahead of me, but I was glad for her. I still had one of the best finishes I’ve ever had in a state that has a whole lot of stamina.
That plate full of tacos was one of the best meals I’ve ever tasted.
Hillary Danaher 