In September, I signed up for a 3.75 mile race in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. The morning of the race, I warmed up and waited for the race to begin. As always, I used my post-warm-up time to do some people-watching. Many people looked to be in great shape – for them the race would be no problem. Others looked a bit out-of-shape. I fell somewhere in-between.

Let the Race Begin - Beautiful Day in the Colorado Mountains!

Once the race began, I quickly fell into my running rhythm. Finding my rhythm allows me to focus on my pace and my breathing, the rest of the world always seems to disappear - usually. But, this race, it was different…my focus was often diverted to the burping man behind me.

I first noticed him when I was warming up. He looked like, well, the fisherman from the Gorton’s™ fish sticks commercials: weathered skin, crazy white hair, and an unkempt beard. Surely, there would be no competition there, right?

During the race I always knew he was behind me because he was burping loudly every several feet. But somehow, I could never increase my pace enough to break-away. In fact, a few times, this old sailor passed me as we leap-frogged along the course.

About half-way through the race, I had my opportunity to rid myself of the burping, old man. He had dropped back a bit and was about five people behind me when he fell. He rolled down a hill. The group of runners closest to him stopped to see if he was alright. (I like to tell myself that I would have done the same thing if I were within range.)

Then, the most amazing thing happened moments later. He caught up with me again. This time he was burping and dripping with blood from his roll down the hill. He must have fallen, rolled down the embankment, jumped up, and then, sprinted to make up for lost time. I’m sure it was quite a sight to see for the runners that were behind him.

Well, needless to say, he finished a few people and only a few seconds behind me. When the race results came out, I had to figure out who this relentless athlete was. The answer inspired me, adding one more thing to my list of lifetime goals. Apparently, he is one of only a few hundred people in the world who have run marathons on each of the Seven Continents.

I immediately had to check: was there really a marathon on Antarctica? Sure enough, there is a marathon on Antarctica and one at the North Pole, too. I now have those races on my list of things I want to do during my lifetime. I only hope that I can be as fast, adventuresome, and resilient when I am older as my greatest competitor – the burping man. Also, the old cliché is true – you can’t judge a book by its cover (or a running-version of the Gorton’s™ fisherman by his burps).