Perhaps if one had the ability to truly listen then you could always somehow hear the sands of time as they slipped away forever. But how does one soberly comprehend this, when you are caught up in those precious moments of glorious celebration, such as when the race began here 50 days ago. Each day that followed a turbulent mix of hope and pain and yes, progress.
Runners, helpers, well wishers all caught up in a dizzy swirl of anticipation. Who dares or wants to see that an inevitable stone faced conclusion was going to simply march forward to end it all. Perhaps not to mortal ears but certainly to some, the distinct discordant note of finality could always be heard, even when the calender made it all seem so so distant and so endless.
Back then certainly I could not peer forward into the murky mists of time. Now of course you don’t need any telepathy, or crystal ball, or conjuring spell. An ever increasing weight of quietness, and a sobering lack of energy is tangible and real here now. The great fat luxury of what appeared to be endless time has now been reduced to just 5 stick thin days.
Four runners have retired victoriously from the course and one was felled by injury. The math is clear, that leaves but 5 gallant souls to continue the great odyssey on their own. The board is static with victory banners, a few are still creeping their way up there as well. But 5 less bodies means 5 less footfalls, 5 less smiles and cheers, and all who are left are more alone on the half mile loop than ever.
Then you have the incomprehensible saga of Surasa. The luxurious reservoir she had in order to reach the goal has been reduced to vapors. 2 days ago she completed just 12 miles and yesterday 27. In front of her is 261 more unflinching miles and 5 hot days in which to do it.
And yet today she begins to tentatively run once more, if even for a few steps here and there. To push and prod her way back from the brink of disaster. How this story will conclude I cannot yet see or hear. It is only on the tablet of her heart that it is etched clear. Eventually time will be forced to share it with us all.