The 50/20

Earlier this week my Dad came out of an evening temple session, and smelling the September air and seeing the moon felt a wave of nostalgia for an experience we shared 16 years ago. It turns out that this weekend is the anniversary of the night we spent walking the 50/20.

The 50/20 was an annual endurance test given by the Squaw Peak Scouting District in Orem, and was discontinued just a year or two after we walked it. My guess is that it was abandoned because of liability issues. Here’s the premise: Individuals would start at This Is The Place Monument near the University of Utah anywhere between 4 and 8 PM on Friday night, and had up to 20 hours from the registered start time to walk the 50 miles to the BYU campus in Provo. I always felt like walking from the U of U to BYU was going the wrong way, but that’s just me. Participants had registration numbers written on their arms, and had to stop at several checkpoints to ensure people weren’t cheating and catching rides. The sponsors also had EMTs on bikes patrolling the route for those who needed assistance. Though the event was sponsored by a Boy Scout troop, it was open to anyone who wished to participate.

The year that we walked it nearly 1,500 people joined in to make the walk. Less than 300 finished. We had a group of about 18 people from our ward that started. Five of us finished, and of those 5, three were Shirleys.

We started about 5:30, and quickly the group separated. I was out front with my friend Dave, while my Dad hung back with the stragglers. Being the scout master he felt some responsibility to ensure that no one was left unattended. That nearly came back to haunt him.

For the most part Dave and I were surrounded by other walkers, and it was a pleasant stroll. The September evening was cool, but not cold, and the skies were clear and it was a beautiful night. My mother was to provide dinner at a medical clinic near our home, but Dave and I were so far ahead of the planned meeting time that we spent nearly an hour waiting for her to get there. Had we not been famished we would have pressed on without waiting. We also lost another half an hour when we got off the course in Lehi and had to back-track.

The midway point was at the point of the mountain on the frontage road. Just before getting there we were alone and had only the moon and the glow of the prison to guide us. It felt like walking on a treadmill. Dave took off his shoes at the mid point, and I thought he was done for. The mid point was where most of the people dropped out and it was after midnight when we arrived. But Dave put his soaking wet socks back over his blisters and we pressed on. Less than a mile later he was ready to drop out. We had no street lights, and I knew that he wouldn’t be found for quite some time if he quit then. So I piggybacked him to the next check point. It was probably only a mile, but it felt like 20. He was a portly young man.

Dave quit again less than five miles from the finish line. By then I was tired of his complaining, so I left him. He had only worn one pair of socks, and had blisters everywhere accompanying his leg cramps. I had no ill effects from the walking, so I wasn’t too sympathetic of his plight. I was a jerk even back then.

Fifteen hours after my start time I walked into the park at BYU. Our other scoutmaster was waiting with his RV van. I told him that I had left Dave behind, but as soon as I said that he pointed my friend out, hobbling into the park. Dave had tried to catch up to me before I finished, but failed. I found a bunk in the RV and heard nothing more for almost five hours.

After I finished everyone in the ward had been accounted for as either having finished or dropped out except for my Dad and sister, Allison. While I slept John went looking for them. By the time he found them Alley was ready to drop out. She was crying from the pain and limping. My Dad was beside himself with reproach for trying to get her through. John joined the group and began talking. He chewed Alley’s ear about everything under the sun. He talked so much that she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. His talking did the trick. She finally had something to take her focus from her anguish. With just minutes to spare Dad and Alley crossed the finish line.

The next day I had to give a talk in church. By then my legs were sore and tight, but not too bad. One of the girls in our ward also gave a talk, but she delivered hers while wearing slippers because her feet hurt. She had dropped out before the midway point. Wuss.

The event was a very important thing for me. I learned a lot about myself then. Dave and I played a lot of games to keep ourselves occupied. We counted all of the car dealerships and bars on State Street as well as playing song identification games to movie and TV songs. If I did it now I would probably plug in the iPod and plod away. It wouldn’t be the same. Part of the fun was sharing the experience with a friend until he quit, and the kinds of things I thought to keep occupied when by myself.

While passing the Southtowne Center mall that night we could see police and medical helicopters landing in the parking lot. The reason was that a man had taken hostages at Alta View Hospital just a few blocks away, and he later murdered a nurse. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alta_View_Hospital_hostage_incident

While it is sad that the 50/20 is not held any longer, I can understand why. In our litigious society the liability of having 1,500 people, some as young as 12, stretched out over 50 miles of road is a big liability. At one point while walking down State Street a man stumbled out of a bar in front of Alley and urinated on a telephone pole. We laugh about it now, but incidents could easily happen. I am just grateful that I had the chance to participate. Nowadays when I am ‘running’ my annual marathons I spend a great deal of time reflecting on the 50/20, and the things I learned about my own determination, pacing, enjoyment and endurance.