a bus?”
Koop pointed around with his finger, taking a head count. “We’re a bus,” he said.
English started the ignition, and soon the buildings of Memphis were behind us, though the memories lived on within as we rumbled down the highway.
CHAPTER 3
Knowing Better
Day 3
September 19, 2006
Mississippi Coast Marathon
Gulfport, Mississippi
Elevation: 12'
Weather: 87 degrees; very humid
Time: 4:30:19
Net calories burned: 9,561
Number of runners: 20
T he drive to Mississippi sucked. It was a seven-hour straight shot due south on Highway 55, all the way across the state to the Gulf of Mexico. The road was in a third-world condition of disrepair—a rutted, potholed strip of neglected pavement that caused the bus to jostle around incessantly like a space shuttle on takeoff.
“Why is the road so bumpy?” I asked English.
“We’re in the South,” he said. I guess that was sufficient explanation.
Everybody was starving, but we had too much ground to cover to stop anywhere, and any effort made to cobble together some type of meal aboard this storm-tossed schooner produced disastrous results. Food was splattered everywhere. Plates slid off the counter if left unattended. Jars of peanut butter and jelly rolled around on the floor.
A couple of hours into the trip, we were treated to a gorgeous pink sunset, though it was disappointingly short-lived, and the ensuing darkness only heightened our restlessness and claustrophobia. Not that the darkness had much of an effect on my view from the back of the rig. The vinyl wrap that completely enclosed the bus provided wonderful sponsor branding on the outside but virtually negated visibility from within. One of the aspects of the Endurance 50 that I had most looked forward to was the chance to see the varied geographic beauty of America, but because of the skintight, semi-opaque suit of advertising our bus wore, I had the odd sense of being teleported from one race site to the next without experiencing anything between them, except cabin fever and nausea.
Also bothering me throughout this long night of discomfort was my blistered foot, which needed attention. I should have changed to dry socks during this morning’s marathon, or at least immediately afterward. Standing around the Finish Festival in wet socks had allowed the blister to fester; now it was tender and red.
Tips to Prevent Running Blisters
• Wear running socks made from moisture-wicking materials such as CoolMax.
•Wear socks with minimal seams, especially across the toes.
• Break in a pair of new shoes with a couple of short runs before going long.
• Keep shoelaces sufficiently tightened; sliding feet can create friction.
• Lubricate known trouble spots on your feet before you start. Bodyglide and Aquaphor are my personal favorites, though some people prefer a dry lubricant such as talcum powder.
• Remove pebbles and debris from your shoes as soon as you notice them.
• If possible, stop running the moment you feel a hot spot developing.
I was embarrassed to tell Koop about the blister. Not taking appropriate prophylactic measures was a rookie mistake. There shouldn’t
be
a blister on my foot—not in marathon number two. I decided to just air it out and otherwise not mess with it much. With any luck, the skin would stay intact.
Every runner is familiar with the sin of knowing better—of stubbornly pushing ahead despite warnings from the more sensible parts of our minds. The desire to keep running until the task is completed or the goal achieved is so great that it overrides our better knowledge and our self-protective faculties. Here are a couple of typical scenarios:
1. On a long, hot run in the summer, you run out of sports drink with an hour to go and think,
I should stop at a convenience store and use my emergency five-dollar bill to buy another bottle
. Then you think,
Nah, I’ll be fine
. Then you overheat. Recovery over the next several days is a grind, and your