We saw one huge man who was about six foot five and so big I bet he weighted 400. He had fat smushing out from his shorts like a busted can of biscuits. Katie said, "Look, Zane. Think you can beat him?"
Instantly I felt my stomach knot up. "It's on," I answered.
The big guy was wearing a singlet and enough body hair to clothe a herd of horses. I thought, if he took his shirt and shorts off, people would run and scream "Bigfoot, Bigfoot!" So Sasquatch is real, and I am going to race him.
After we took our packets back to BK's truck, she lived up to her name in spades. While I was putting my stuff into the bag I had brought with me, she urgently called me to come to the back of her SUV. "Quick, Zane, come here, quick."
So I high stepped it back there and WHAM!!! I saw stars, my knees buckled, and I twirled around dizzily.
"Are you OK?" BK asked suppressing a grin. I had run into the raised back door thingy of her SUV.
I saw two of her. I didn't know which one to look at.
"I'm OK," I fibbed. Actually, I was dizzy and seeing double.
"Are you bleeding?"
I took my cap off and rubbed my throbbing head.
"Yeah. I'm squirting blood by the quarts."
Notice the white behind the sunglasses on my left eye. That is part of the towel, the pound of gauze, and the roll of paper towels that we wrapped my wound up with.
We walked around, chatted, and saw Vicki Jee who was there for the 10K. Then we lined up to start. That is Sasquatch in front of me. I was sizing him up and planning my attack.
Then we were off. The race leaves the square and to my surprise, within a quarter of a mile from downtown Grenada, we were beside a big tupelo gum break which slowly transforms into some dry woods. This is a forest jammed up against town. That was odd to me. We ran one mile and then took a right turn. Somewhere down there, I ducked off the road to take a pee. When I climbed back up onto the roadbed, an old man with a thirty-pound belly passed me. I frantically fought to regain my lead over him.
We ran straight down that road to the foot of the Grenada Lake levee (Dam is probably the more accurate choice of words, but never pass up a chance to alliterate). The course took a right turn and we ran below the dam for over two miles until we climbed the road to the top. Ouch. On top of the levee, I could see the slower runners below. It was awhile before I saw Sasquatch. He was the very end of the race. Hey, you gotta give him props. This race was a challenge, and he took it.
The course goes all the way across the longest earthen dam in the world, three miles, then drops back down to the road below. Down there, I went off into the woods again. This time, it took longer because I really needed to sit down. Back on the road, Thirty-pound Belly passed me again. Slowly, I reeled him in and when I pulled alongside of him quipped, "Battle of the geezers." He managed a weak smile through a pained face.
Slowly the miles clicked by: nine, ten, eleven. Around eleven miles, a sheriff's deputy began to give me super protection. Every time a car would approach, he drove, with blue lights one, to the center of the road, stopped, and waved the oncoming traffic into the far lane. Wow. I have never been treated like that. It's just me, I thought, way back here in the back, and I'm being treated like the race leader.
Finally, we came to the woods in downtown Grenada. By this time, I was down to a survival shuffle, but still ahead of Sasquatch and Thirty-pound Belly. As I neared the finish, I heard BK and Cyndi yelling, "Come on Zane." Crossing, someone (race director?) immediately approached and asked how old I was. What was that about? Did BK set that up? She will never admit it if she did.
So it was a nice race. The course is interesting, well marked, and superbly controlled by the sheriff's office. They could, however, use a couple of porta potties out there. I'm glad I went, and this one is on my list now. Thank you, Jesus, for a good experience and a victory over Sasquatch.
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