M-80

This time of year we hear M-80’s go off all the time. These illegal fireworks pack an explosive punch so great that you can feel it in your chest when it goes off. I imagine if you’re close to one it would take your breath away – even if you knew it was about to go off. Then you have to worry about the pee. Yes, some people actually pee a little (or a lot) when they get startled. An M-80 will do the trick. Stop it! I’m not talking about me. I do not pee when startled, I happen to spill water quite often that’s all. It would be nice to have that “medical” excuse. You know the one – “it’s because I had a baby”….”ever since little Johnny I can’t even sneeze or cough anymore without a little surprise”. Can you imagine a man trying that to explain away gas? “Oh sorry dear but ever since I carried your piano up those three flights of stairs”….

Clearly an M-80 is powerful. That is also one of the words I would use to describe the young man I had the pleasure of running a couple races with - Thomas, better known as “Little T”. Most recently we ran the Run of the Mill 5k together. In fact many of the Bertollisport gang was there to run, walk, or support. Sharon, Helena, Rita, Iain, Jessica, Marcie, Curt, Monica, and Savannah were on hand for the race. Each has their own incredible story about that run; stories that would make you smile and touch your heart. I will focus on just one. This is about the amazing journey I had running with T.

We arrived at the race ready to go. The sun was out and the 9:30 start time meant that the warmer temperature was going to make this run a little harder. I had my normal 2-3 potty stops before the race. I took T with me each time and made him try to go. Every time he’d look up at me and say “Mikey, I DON’T have to go”. At the same time he’d give me that look – the one that almost says I going to humor you you crazy old man but I’m not going to pee.

We jumped in line about 20 minutes before the start. We lined up behind the runners, in the official joggers chute. The instructions I gave T were simple. “Hold my hand until we get through the crowd and then you can run. I’ll be right behind you”. Well we hit the timing mat at the start line and his hand was gone. So was T….He was off and running. Mid you there were a lot of people in front of us and the first half mile or so was pretty packed. T would get boxed in behind people and I’d chuckle because I knew he was getting frustrated. Suddenly a small gap would open and bam, T would dart through, weave to the right or left, and sprint to open a gap before setting back to his pace. Holy shit, this kid is only six. I’m trying now to catch up and the gap has closed (or I’m to ah big) so I have to find a way around. Sometimes he’s done this 3-4 times in a row and I’m running all over trying to get back to him. I can see him looking around for the next opportunity to move through the crowd.

At the same time I’m laughing because of the faces I see and comments I hear as T does his thing. There is disbelief and praise. I’m sure a lot of those runners expected to see him further down the road walking because he was tired, burned out. Not this kid. He never stopped running. His arms would pump back and forth and his gaze forward – unless of course he was passing someone. Every time he passed he would turn his head and look up at the adult as if to wonder why they were moving so slowly. I worried that this might bother some runners so I would yell out “look straight T, watch where you’re going”. Inside I’m cracking up. I would have loved to been filming this.

At mile two he handed me a much needed invisible energy bar coupled with a knuckle bump and a smile. A bit later I could see the sweat on his face and we had just passed a table with bottles of water stacked up. I asked if he wanted water and he nodded. I told him to keep running and I ran back to fetch the water and caught up and handed it to him. He slowed and drank and handed the water back to me. He didn’t say thank you. His only words were “I didn’t stop, I’m not stopping”. That my friends was a thousand times better than a thank you. His determination was enough to choke a guy up – if a guy was to get choked up about that kind of stuff….As we ran on the memory of my first half marathon popped into my head. At mile 7 I had missed a Gu (energy) station and Albert told me to run on. He ran back and caught up to me with a Gu and water to wash it down. Thank you Albert.

Soon we could hear cheering so I knew the finish was near. T was ready to be done; he’d run his heart out. Up the hills, through the heat, in and out of runners. In no time we could hear Sharon shouting (screaming) for T and we breezed across the finish. One for the record books. Thomas set another PR, finishing in 32:45. Wow! Now it was time for hugs, water, donuts, and a Popsicle. I see the day coming when Little T will be at the finish line waiting for Mikey to finish. He’ll talk about his run and the new record he just set. I won’t hear much of what he says between my gasps of breath, ringing in my ears, and it’s never easy to hear when you’re doubled over. But like today, I will be proud of him.