We had a wonderful July 4th celebration. We started the day by biking about 2-3 miles to run a local 4.5 mile race. The weather was not unbearably hot, although humid. We told each other that we would not push it, because one of us had suggested we run a 9.3 mile hilly trail race at a state park in southern Indiana two days later, and the other agreed it would be a great idea. Of course, neither of us held back and ran much faster than we had predicted. After the race, we biked home, showered, and had a picnic and late fireworks with Miranda, Adam, and our grandson.

The next day, I got the camper ready for a trip to the state park that was holding the trail race, and Slick worked all day. When he got home, we drove to the campground, set up camp, and went to bed. Waking on race day morning, my legs felt tired and my foot was sore from all the activity and the previous race. It was lightly raining, and I contemplated switching from the 15K to the 5K. Slick thought he might switch, also, since his back was hurting. We arrived at the event in a misty rain, got our 15K race bibs at the registration tent, walked to the start line, and stood under the vending machine shelter out of the drizzle. Neither one of us likes to back down from a challenge, obviously.

The race started with a mile incline on the horse trail. Horse trail. As in horses walk along and drop whatever comes out. The start was thick, slick, and squishy with mud, and we had to dodge road apples left by the horses. Well, I dodged; some people ran straight through. A short time into the race, the rain stopped. The course left the horse trail and switched to a narrow, rolling hills, mostly dry section of trail, which made me wonder if the squish at the beginning was only mud. Once again, we ran faster than we had predicted, only this time the hilly terrain was much harder on the legs and feet, and the distance was exhausting after exerting ourselves in a race two days earlier.

After I caught my breath, we sprayed off with a hose, went back to the campground, showered, and spent time with family who were also camping. Slick played baseball with some of the kids; I tried to not fall asleep. Every time I stood up after sitting for a while, my legs felt like an old locomotive trying to get the wheels going. The next day, Slick had a sore foot, and I had several sore body parts, including a foot and hamstring.

As we near 50 years old, maybe we will take on less challenges, but I doubt it. In September, Slick is already signed up for a male bonding experience 15 mile obstacle run with men from our church, and I am signing up for the Air Force Marathon. People may think we are crazy, but we understand each other.