As some of you may have noticed from some of his posts, Claude is a bit of a runner. Early on in our marriage he insisted that he disliked running very much and then after training with me for a 5K after our second child was born, he caught the running bug and he hasn't looked back since!
Now instead of 5Ks he's covering a distance of a mere 50Ks. (For anyone who, like me, is metric system challenged, that's 31 miles). And yes, that is just over the distance of a marathon. Apparently these races are considered ultra-marathons and can reach distances of 100 miles or more.
Anyway...he's fixing to run (Did I really just type that? I must be in the South!) a 50 mile race in a couple months. As a warm-up he ran his second 50K race last Saturday.
The temperature was pretty cold (low 30's) and we don't have heat in our van. So, the kids and I had accepted the fact that we wouldn't be able to go and meet Claude at the finish line. But after he rushed out the door on Saturday morning I changed my mind and we prepared for a long and cold drive. With sign in tow, we were looking forward to cheering him on as he finished the race.
|Everyone bundled up for the drive.|
It was Claude. He was done.
Yes, we missed his finish.
But the trip was not completely in vain. He did see our van as we drove near the parking area. I thought it might have been him that I saw running in the woods. The jacket was familiar. The pants were familiar. But the gloves were just wrong. Claude does not own white gloves. At least he didn't until he was given a pair at the start of the race.
So, we unknowingly cheered him on in his last mile.
I'm not sure if he'll have time for it, but Claude may weigh in with his own post about the race.
The kids and I have decided that we will NOT miss the finish for his next race!