Casper Half Marathon, Casper, Wyoming, June 7, 2009

Race Number 28
State Number 6

My biggest enemy in a half marathon race is my sense of humor (if you can call my twisted view of life and myself, humorous). The idea of me and another runner of similar ability “racing” to the finish line is enough to send me into a squall of uncontrolled laughter. “Chariots of Fire” music begins looming in my head and I just can't get over the absurdity of thinking I can beat the 20-something female who has been running in front of me for the first six miles! Bottom-line is, I may be spending too much effort on deciding who will finish first among the middle of the pack.

Yet, I am not a competitor to be taken lightly. All the runners in the Casper Half Marathon should have been shaking in their $130 motion-controlled, cushioned running shoes. I would have warned them I was coming to Wyoming to throw the gauntlet down but I ran out of time to update my Facebook or contact the national emergency warning system. I did make contact with the local sheriff to warn him of my arrival, but his glance of disdain left me wondering if he took me seriously.

As I tried to gain ground on my 20-something rival, I tried to telepathically convey to her that the heavy breathing and pounding footsteps she was hearing was, in fact, not an overweight Bill Clinton, but a man who considered THIS race, the race of his life. She did not seem to get the message that she should be in for the race of her life, as well.

I am sorry to say she did not give up and wave goodbye as I passed her for the 10th time (which suggests she passed me at least nine times). So….. I had to visualize one of my favorite cartoon characters, Popeye the Sailor Man. Of all the heroes on TV, he had the best system. Any time there was trouble, all Popeye did was reach into his shirt, pull out a can of spinach, squeeze it open and pour the spinach in his mouth. Presto-chango! He had instant muscles, instant strength and instant solutions.

Oh my, to think that help was just a squeeze away and the finish line was only two miles away!

Problem was I had NO spinach or even spinach-flavored gel packets in my fancy waist-belt carrier. My instant “Popeye” solution was not available to me so I had to do it the old fashioned way, CHEAT. Yep, I tripped the gal, she lost a few steps and I beat her to the finish line. I was filled with deep satisfaction that I had won and experienced the same feigned joy as Manny Ramirez and Barry Bonds!

I have learned that there is no failure in running, or in life, as long as you keep moving, clawing and scratching. It is not about speed and medals, it is about refusing to be stopped, even if it means tripping your opponent. :-)

My time: A glorious 2:14:40. My legs felt good but the right side of my face was a bit sore from the slap I received from 20-something girl.

Editor’s Note: Mikie did not trip that girl. He is a liar. Actually, they crossed the finish line almost at the same time with 20-something girl finishing .04 seconds ahead of Mikie. Oh, what a battle it was!!!

Prayer List: Miles 1-3: The Onstott family, my dear friends who live in windy Casper, WY. Miles 4-6: The JA Class of 2009. Fifty-eight students graduated from 12th grade of which 22 students that started at JA in either Kindergarten, first or second grade. Miles 7-9: Our maintenance crew at JA as they refurbish the building this summer. Miles 10-13: The students at Jefferson Academy and their well-being this summer.