I just returned triumphant from the world’s deepest marble gorge and the completion of my very first marathon. I bet a fair number of you can guess how I felt when it was over. Never again。 I thought to myself as tears slid through the sweat.

It really hurt! I’m talking real pain man! And my pain came from areas I had never considered. My nipples! The new unwashed t-shirt they gave me was cool and all and made me feel really official with my number safety pinned to my chest but someone could have warned me the unwashed fabric would leave me with a blood blister on each nipple. Ouch! I also had shooting stabbing pains in my legs and ankles. After 20k it was sharp enough to make me whimper and tears fell like rain.

I didn’t really train enough I guess. I have no attention span really. I mean I ran every day but only for an hour or so and probably never longer than ten miles at a stretch.

Ok I digress… see what I mean about attention span….back to the race.

I thought I was doing really well. I was getting sore but I had plenty of energy and the sugar of that little banana chunk I got at the last aid station was going straight to my happy place.

Thinking wow I must be 3/4 done by now Then I passed the sign. My eyes got stuck on the numbers and then BAM! I slammed straight into a brick wall. 15k. Fifteen K! (Insert censored epitaph here) That’s all I had run. I wasn’t even half way yet and I was hurting. Doubt started to creep into my banana induced euphoria. Can I run 42 K? Can I even walk it? Can I finish this race?

Whoops, I seem to be telling this story in reverse. Let’s go back to the beginning of the race.

I couldn’t help but give a jump and whoop crossing the start. I was packed into the starting crowd. Everyone shoulder to shoulder trying to trot but forced into taking baby steps until the crowd could spread out a little.

Fighting through the crowd of excited runners at the start of the annual Taroko National Park marathon I was a miniscule part of an awesome entity. I felt like a water molecule in a wave fighting up the beach. The effect was reinforced by the fact that after the first 4 kilometers the course does an abrupt U-turn and the 5000 runners fold back into themselves just as an incoming wave fights against the outgoing current. Volunteers and police on scooters break a path through the throng for the lead runners with the legs of a giraffe, the speed of a gazelle, and the spirit of a swallow.

There is a reason for this snarl inducing hairpin start more necessary than providing good sport for the spectators. Space…. The Taroko marathon plots a serpentine course through rugged country. Taroko is a place where even to swallows, flat ground is a premium.

Taroko National Park in Central Taiwan is 90% vertical. The worlds deepest marble gorge grudgingly hosts a tenuous ribbon of a road that leads marathoners into a wondrous white marble slot canyon with soaring thousand foot cliffs at times only a dozen yards apart.

The road through this vertical wilderness flows along the canyon cliff in and out of long drippy tunnels and at times is cut into caves and depressions. Flat space is definitely at a premium and a good portion of that is man made. The road is an amazing testament to the tenacious desire of man to tame the wilds.

Soon after entering the park, a side valley appears on the left with a large spring mysteriously appearing out of the base of a thousand foot tall marble monolith. Just beyond where the spring emerges the cascading water passes through a round arch which is part of an elegant structure memorializing the workers who gave their lives pushing the road into this wild gorge. The classic Chinese beauty of this temple framed by the marble landscape behind is such a classic scene like out of a Chinese painting of some supernatural garden of the gods. As I run by I get the sense that at any moment a dozen Shaolin monks to come leaping from the pagoda perched high on a ledge above me into the surrounding bamboo. The energy of the place has an uplifting quality as high as the cliffs, and views. What can I say about the views. There is no opportunity for boredom on this course, every few hundred meters a bend in the canyon brings a whole brand new vista into sight.

After passing the temple the course follows through the narrowest section of the canyon. The canyon here is 1000 feet deep and only 30 feet wide. The engineers here could have simply built a tunnel but they wanted to showcase the wonder of this gorge so they build a ledge. The road is encased on three sides by solid marble. Thank goodness the road is closed to traffic for the marathon!

After this obstacle the canyon opens up into the more classic v-shape with stunning vistas of 6000 foot peaks peaking through the ever present billowing puffs of alpine clouds. Unbelievably a large flat plateau here caused by some ancient geologic cataclysm is the site of an ancient aboriginal settlement. As I run by the wonder of the scenery keeping my mind off the stabbing pain in my legs, I think t must have been an amazing menace that sent a people to take refuge in this hidden place. Before the road, the only two ways into this valley are to wade up the raging white water of the river or to scramble down 3000 feet of almost vertical mountainside.

After about 25 Kilometers of running a gentle uphill a confluence between two v-shaped canyons plays host to a small missionary village where the racers turn back toward the mouth of the canyon. Thank goodness since this is where the road starts to climb. I drove up there once. I can’t believe I survived! This road takes a path that any mountain goat would be proud to finish.

So now I was on my way back, I was over half done and still the amazing beauty of the place distracted me enough from the agony of my untrained muscles to allow me to enjoy the trip.

I think the worst part was the finish. 5 kilometers away from the finish they put up signs counting down every kilometer. 5, 4, 3, 2, I started to concentrate on the steps instead of the beauty and that’s when I became fully conscious of the agony that gripped my legs. The last kilometer goes through a really long tunnel and when I emerged, there was the sea, and the finish in sight at the top of one last gentle incline. I gathered my strength and like the last wave of a waning typhoon I gave all I had and charged up the hill, crossed the finish line and slowed to a walk then a stop. I looked around at the awesome beauty of the place I had just run. My last surge of power spent I hobbled to a stone step and sat. The last wave was spent, the storm had passed and the sun came out. It was hard and it was fun. Next time I’ll train longer and wear a band-aid over each nipple.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to make it. I'm done."

I turned around and looked at her. Jesus you pathetic wimp.. god damit! I thought to myself.

I knew my thoughts would easily be visible behind my eyes so I looked a way and surveyed the boulder field. We were almost to base camp. Another hour of hiking then a short climb up the steep headwall would put us in striking range for the summit. If we cant reach the lower saddle basecamp today then we cant make the summit safely tomorrow.

Shit.

I said. Ok no problem. Lets make a new plan. Good for you for knowing your limits.
Lets head back down and camp at the caves OK? Then tomorrow we can make an attempt on the Middle Teton instead.

Ok thats sounds good she said as she turned away and headed back down the steep glacial valley.

I stood on top of a tire sized boulder and looked at the Headwall and the summit of the Grand Teton. I promised myself Id try to get to the top. I did try. Im here. I just didn't make it this time. Its ok. I turned to go but my toes were still pointing up. I looked back down.

Im sorry she said..

Oh heck no sweat, I replied. Any old fool can climb a mountain, a mountaineer always gets back down safely. The fun is in the journey not the goal.

I was so pissed off. She said she could do it. She talked so big. But when it came down to it. SHe just didn't have the strength or the heart. I felt betrayed. But wait a minute.... WHo gave her the out in the first place. Who even let her know about the difficulties of the headwall, how far base camp really was. I even told her don't push yourself, We can always turn back and do the Middle Teton instead.

Did I give up? Did I manipulate her into being the one to voice it so I could blame her ranter than myself??? Did I really commit to this climb? To this goal. Or did I only give it half a heart Was I relieved that I didn't have to do the climb and I could put the blame of failure completely on my friend?

Hmmm

I swam in the Great Salt Lake recently. I walked out into the open expanse of this warm shallow sea and laid down. What a sensation to surrender into the quiet evening ripples. The warm dense water feels like a hug. It is impossible to go under. I like this feeling of security.