Adams - Running and Stuff

I was looking forward to going home at the end of summer and telling everyone I made it. That I made it all the way across the United States of America on foot. I hoped to have collected some great stories along the way, great views seen and friends made, bunions and blisters, animal attacks and bewildered locals, greasy burger bars and dodgy motels. Moments of crippling depression and euphoric highs. Running into a sunny Central Park on a Saturday afternoon to mark the end of an epic journey. The best summer holiday ever. Not to mention a great big bushy beard.

But New York seemed even further away than it did at the start. When I set out from Los Angeles 19 days ago this all felt doable. Now Ive covered 800 miles, crossed two deserts, two states and some beautiful mountains it feels impossible. Ive already made some friends who I know will be friends for life, have been overwhelmed by the unbelievable kindness of strangers and experienced some of the highs and lows that get me into these situations in the first place. I am still a long way from the finish in New York though; 2400 miles. I am still a long way from the finish of today.

I have had diarrhoea for four days now and it is not getting any better. All the food and drink I try to consume gets thrown back out again from one place or another. I am empty; my legs can barely stand as my body chews itself up from the inside. I am shaking and sweating all the time, I dont know what my body is finding to burn but somehow it stays upright.

I can take the vomiting, the feeling of being punched in the stomach and my legs wobbling like jelly as I stagger along this highway. What I cant bear is the thought of just passing out at the side of the road, waking up in an ambulance and being told Hey James, dont worry you are fine but the race is over for you. I couldnt bear going back and telling everyone I didnt finish.

I look up at the long and winding road to the finish; its about 30 miles away. I cant see any of the other runners they are all too far ahead. I feel like a burden on the organisers who have to hang back to support me. Perhaps I should drop out for everyone elses sake?

No. Im not going to drop out. Not consciously anyway. I have already decided that I was going to give everything I had to stay in this race. The problem is that now I am overdrawn. I dont know what my body is burning to keep me upright; fat and muscle? Brain? Organs? My soul?

I shuffle forward slowly, obsessing about every mile post and incline in the road. Every churned up piece of tarmac or a truck passing by represents an obstacle to me finishing. I cant walk for more than 500 meters without having to throw up or worse. I am determined to get through this no matter what but fear that soon it will be out of my hands.

It gets worse.

It was still very hot and I see a dog come sprinting towards me from a small building in the middle of nowhere to warn me not to encroach on his space. I hate dogs, Ive hated then for about two days now. In all other times when charged by an aggressive dog I just look the other way and carry on walking, making no eye contact until I cant hear it anymore. Ive done this about 20 times in the past three weeks.

But this time I do something a bit different. As it reached the road and started to gallop across I just froze right there on the spot and then shit myself.

It gets worse.

As the dog got still closer and the warm feeling of defecation humiliated me I just burst into tears. That dog could have just ripped me up for all I care now, this is over. Shitting yourself and then crying about it? When was the last time anyone does that? Two years old maybe? Here I am on the side of a road having done just that at the age of 31. The dog didnt even bother after that. Among the many things he can surely smell is an aura of hopelessness and feebleness that surrounds me. He just walked back from where he came having decided not to waste any of his dog breath on such a pathetic human. I have just been patronised by a dog. In my own voice in my own head I can hear the repetitive phrase

James Adams you are the most pathetic human being who has ever lived

It was hard to argue.

It gets worse.

The last 30 seconds of my life slams into my long term memory like nothing else had ever done before. The folder labelled This is your life that currently contains the most significant moments of my life now had a new addition. It did not pass through any temporary phase, any holding area for editing before deciding whether to keep or discard. It just went straight in to the place where I store memories like my first kiss and first kiss with someone I love, finishing races, graduating, leaving home, epic holidays and adventures. A space that will contain future experiences like my wedding day, the births of my children, death of a loved one, disease, hearing granddad said to me for the first time, perhaps even running into New York. This just dropped straight in there and there is no way I can ever delete it.