Running a crazy train through the community

A thunderous boom sounded over Front Street and a block-long throng of people started moving en masse, their first steps toward what would be a miles-long endeavor.

The Great River Bridge Race was on, and I found myself in the middle of the throng for the second time in my life. Last year this very race formally started my love-hate relationship with running. Then, I ran the 5K. I had only run that distance one other time, about two weeks prior. This year, my target was the 10K. And again, it would push my limits and set a new personal distance record. 

They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. So does, technically, the journey of 6.2 miles, or a 10K. But in the diabolical design of the Bridge Race, the first mile of this journey includes a climb up Snake Alley. 

Brutal.

By the time I reached the top of the climb, my legs were burning. My shins were in full revolt but I took solace knowing that the path to the bridge approach was downhill to which my knees responded with a clear reminder that I’m in my 40’s, still fairly new to running, and still not fully recovered from hiking 30+ miles in the Rocky Mountains ten days earlier. 

But I kept on. One foot in front of the other. “Do it for the parks!” I think to myself. Just. Keep. Going.

Photo credit: Burlington Beacon newspaper

Running, I have concluded, is a metaphor for life. 

For instance, people will say “you’re nuts” when you mention something they can’t fathom doing themselves, like running your first 10K at 43 years old. But instead of believing them, you simply use that as fuel. 

I have this dream, shared by some other motivated community leaders, to turn the Big Muddy’s building into a Mississippi River interpretive center and restaurant. I also dream of improving the water quality in Big Hollow Lake so it’s algae-free in the summers. I envision lakefront cabins overlooking that clean water. I envision the Flint River Trail finally connecting that park to the city of Burlington. And I dream of a day when Burlington is referred to by visitors as their “favorite Iowa river town.”

Some say it can’t be done and we’d be crazy for trying. I say, “watch us.” 

In running, like with community-impacting projects like these, you’re alone, but not. Dreams, it turns out, are contagious. And some people rather enjoy jumping on crazy trains, especially with other motivated, ambitious people. My wife, once fully in the “you’re nuts” camp, is now training for a half marathon after jumping on that crazy train with a good friend. At conferences, I’ve had colleagues join me for pre-meeting runs around the paths in Des Moines. Entire apps, integrated with fitness watches of course, are built around the running community sharing their crazy train progress. 

And so it goes with community projects. Even on social media, people have come out of the woodwork to show support for this Big Muddy’s idea. And the last million dollars or so of improvements at both Big Hollow and Starr’s Cave parks have been donor-driven. It’s fun to think how many people likely balked when the Big Hollow crazy train first left the station in the 1960’s with the dream of a comprehensive recreation park in the middle of the county. Now 60-ish years later, the park sees about 70,000 visitors a year.  

Apparently, I’m just the next in a long line of crazy locals. 

There were plenty of setbacks along the way and going forward, there will be more. That’s how it goes with big things, like comprehensive parks and one’s first 10K. Projects will hit setbacks just like knees will protest on the downhills. Sometimes you fall flat on your face. But you get up and keep on. Eventually you cross the finish line and go get brunch with your crazy train wife. 

Which is exactly what I did 6.2 miles later. 

But that finish line isn’t the end, is it? There’s always the next goal, the next race, the next personal best, the next cause to support. The next step in the process. A feasibility study has been done on the Big Muddy’s building. But studies don’t resurrect buildings or build parks. We’ve run our first mile, maybe, with Big Muddy’s. And Big Hollow has been a marathon, for sure. But it’s not done.

One foot in front of the other. 

So whatever you aspire to do, whatever challenges you’re up against, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Because life is not just one race. It’s a whole series of them, with, hopefully, some slow, scenic walks through nature - and maybe also some white-knuckle rides on crazy trains - in between.