Great Fish, Great Races

“There was once an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone 84 days without taking a fish.”

I never went 84 days with out taking a fish but it had been a while since I caught a truly great fish.  When Santiago, the old man in Hemingway’s novel of, “The Old Man and the Sea”, went fishless for 84 days it was a serious matter since he earned his living and his dinner by catching fish.

So he went farther out in the gulf than he had ever gone before and it was there that he hooked the giant marlin. After a heroic battle he caught the great fish but only for it to be eaten by sharks before he could bring it back to land. All he had was an enormous skeleton. 

Besides it being a relatively long time since I have caught a great fish it has also been a long time since I ran a truly great running race. Over the years there had been a few great races. Defining a ‘great race’ or a ‘great fish’ is difficult. I have my own criteria. For me a great race or a great fish involves something extraordinary.   But when one is 52 years old, slowing down with some nagging aches, pains and waning drive one has to consider that maybe a chance of a great race is over for me.

As I age I try to run smarter. As Santiago said, “I may be old and I may not be as strong but I know many tricks and I have resolution”. And so, I try to run smarter with better pacing. Start off slow and gradually increase the pace. I try to be determined to pour it on strong in the end and over come the competition later in the race.  

But there comes a time when it seems that even the tricks don’t work anymore. I would start off slow and yet I was never able to pick up the pace.  The competition simply ran away from me. And where was my resolution?

As I thought about great races and great fish  I thought of the Frying Pan River and the hole right below the dam. There are other places but I thought of the Frying Pan because my wife and I had a trip planned to go to Buena Vista and run in a race and then head over to Aspen and Maroon Bells to hike among the golden aspen. I thought of the big rainbows that live below the dam gorging on mysis shrimp. Maybe, a chance at a great fish?  

First, the race.  I wanted to run the half marathon which is a better race for me since it a long distance endurance event. A 5k is a better race of the young at heart who can rely on sheer speed. I don’t have much speed anymore but I do have respectable endurance.  The only problem was that the half marathon race was filled before I could register. On a whim I decided to try the 5k but my motivation of even committing to the race was weak at best.  

I know by the usual definition of the word ‘great’ I did not run a great race. I have run far faster 5k’s.  But there was something extra-ordinary about this race. First of all I flat out won the race overall which is quite rare and “extra-ordinary”  for me. Also, true to my criteria of a great race, what made it extra-ordinary was the fact that I won the race with a relatively “ordinary”  time.  It is also extraordinary that I almost did not even run the race. The night before the race I was searching for other races and so I did not bring much enthusiasm to the race. 

So, in the end I won a race that I did not  really even want to run and with not a ‘great time’ and with out great resolution.  But I do no deny that I gave it my best effort and it hurt. It is just strange. Sometimes, I notice that the more I get “geared up” for some race or fishing trip, the worse I do, and then those times when I am almost apathetic, sometimes extraordinary things happen.

And what about that great fish below the dam on the Frying Pan River?  That one really great fish?  It got away. I saw it. I saw it take my mysis shrimp pattern.  I set. The hook simply pulled out. 

But I think I will have another shot at a great fish.  Less sure about another great race.