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Excerpt from "Running across the Millenium"

by Lynn David Newton

Here Comes the Sun

By 6:00 AM activity on the track began to pick up, as the runners in all races sensed the excitement of the impending end. Runners who had been sleeping awoke and began to circulate, and some who had been walking casually began to run again, some of them quickly. A few 6-day runners who had been seen only periodically during the last day came out for a final surge to the finish.

Sunrise is late this time of year. Officially, it came to Queen Creek at 7:31 AM on the first day of the new year. It was at least 6:45 AM before there were signs of daylight. During the night the cloud cover broke. There would be a sunrise. It came according to God's own schedule, rather than the one most people apparently wished for. When it arrived it was beautiful. Runners with cameras stopped to take photographs. With the sun came the return of warmth, the burble of activity, and anticipation for the climax to come.
Good Morning Good Morning

With an hour and a half remaining until the end of the race it was completely light out. Support crews on the football field were breaking down tents and packing up supplies. Pickings at the aid stations became slimmer. It was apparent that things were drawing to a close.

Contenders in close battles began to seal their final placement, and persons aiming for PRs were spurred on to push for a few extra laps. Chatter on the track was loud, happy, and animated. The running family had drawn close.
Don't Let Me Down

Several times during the race my lap counter was out of sync with the official results. The number I had was always less than the official count. Usually the discrepancy was only one lap, but on one occasion in the 35-mile range, it seemed that the numbers were incrementing slowly. When I asked for a lap count, my counter was eight short! I don't know how it happened, but it was welcome news.

For the last several hours I was confident that I would make eighty miles. An hour from the end I suddenly started to worry---I had been walking more slowly than I realized.

Furthermore, I wasn't sure precisely how many laps I needed, and again I didn't know whether my lap counter was correct. I believed that 322 laps would put me past 80 miles. (And I was correct: 80.03 miles.) Just to make sure, I would go for one extra. However, at 8:05 AM, I was at 310 laps, so needed thirteen more, and I was walking just over 4:00 a lap when I came alive and began to concentrate.

By this time my feet were on fire. I knew that I was rapidly rubbing the skin right off the bottom of both feet. Every step was painful, particularly for my left foot. Despite this, I felt I needed to try to run some again. It had been over three hours since I had run any, and I wasn't looking forward to the shock of changing my manner of conveyance.

My first effort was ludicrous. I must have looked like a wounded animal. After a few thrashing steps I gave up and walked the lap instead, while cogitating over a plan to accomplish this feat. I thought I had the eighty miles in the bag, but I now wanted it very badly, and would be greatly disappointed if I missed it. Somehow I had to run again.

On the next lap I began a forced shuffle. In a few steps I started to get used to it. My feet were in pain, but I could bear it. I made a whole lap in 3:03, then walked the next one in 4:06. The minute saved was worth the effort. If only I could do a few more like that.

Excerpts from 'Running Through the  Millennium' by Lynn David Newton