Iwould like to dedicate this article to an obscure off-road marathon in northern Georgia aptly titled the Twisted Ankle Marathon. It was what we call a “No” race: no finishing medals, no water stops, no fun, and no way am I ever doing that one again!

During my sojourn into the mountainous regions of the former Confederacy, I encountered a frequent dilemma by arriving too late for the pasta dinner. So what is a person to do? Being the professional that I am, I went to the grocery store and bought a sandwich, pretzels, and a box of Hostess Twinkies. (Warning: do not try this at home!) A friend suggested trying a Chinese restaurant in town, but I demurred. You would think that Chinese food is a good option for a marathon prerace meal because noodles and rice are a good source of carbohydrates. I had to pass for one simple reason: bad fortune cookies.

There is nothing more demoralizing before a big race than to get a prophecy of doom wrapped in a deformed concoction of flour, sugar, and milk. But for those of you brave enough to try, here is my feeble attempt to interpret your fortune cookies and what they might mean. I picked these fortunes from a list of common fortunes on a Web site.

“Beware not to judge other people’s actions.” This means that you are going to see something that is really disgusting done by a fellow runner during the race. It reminds me of the Philadelphia Marathon when I ran with my buddy, Sue Kelly. We saw a woman lose bowel control and keep running. She didn’t even break stride! Sue asked if I had ever seen anything like it. Not only had I never seen anything like it, I hadn’t even heard of anything like it (or smelled anything like it, for that matter).

“Romance comes to you in an unusual way.” Don’t get your hopes up. That special someone you might happen to meet at mile 18 will not be impressed. If a woman were still interested in romance after seeing me late in a race, I would ask her to bear my children. I can just imagine

Michael Hughes

myself saying, “I’m not usually this cranky—but my blood sugar is low. I am also normally more attractive, witty, and able to speak in complete sentences. By the way, can I have your phone number?” Not going to happen.

“He who worries cannot walk with dignity.” This means that you will get tired during the race and bonk; you will walk, and it is up to you whether this becomes a walk of dignity or a walk of shame.

“New experiences and new friends will enrich your life.” Never run with ultrarunners who have nicknames. If you make new friends before the race with sobriquets like “Crazy Karl,” “Dirty Darren,” or “Avalanche Al,” you know that you are going to be in trouble. You may make a whole slew of new friends like Aaron the ambulance driver, Kevin the EMT specialist, and Susan the volunteer who performed CPR on you.

“A single kind word will keep you warm for years.” I used several single words in the Twisted Ankle Marathon, which could make me eligible for a warm place with lots of pitchforks that will keep me warm for

eternity. Those words include ****, ****, and my favorite, *****. Some of the words that can be printed included, “Help!” “Medic!” and “Mercy!”

“Lighten your load by doing less work.” Less body weight means less work in a marathon, right? This is a polite way of saying that you are getting fat. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten so much Chinese food before the race.

“You will inherit a large sum of money.” The only way I could inherit money is if I had a long-lost uncle who put me in his will, and I somehow persuaded that uncle to run the Twisted Ankle Marathon in Georgia. One false step and he could fall into a ravine where nobody would ever find him. So if you have a rich relative, get him a race entry form. With apologies to poet Robert Frost, whoever recommends the road less traveled is definitely not a marathon runner.

My Most Unforgettable Ultramarathon (And What I Learned From It) by Chris Wile

“Once in a while you find yourself in an odd situation. You get into it by degrees and in the most natural way but, when you are right in the midst of it, you are suddenly astonished and ask yourself how in the world it all came about.” Thor Heyerdahl, Kon-Tiki

CASSODAY, KANSAS, October 13-14, 2007—On Saturday, October 13, at

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The author just after completing the Umstead 100 in April 2006.

© Nancy Wile

around noon, after having run continuously for six hours and a bit more than 30 miles, I found myself atop a ridge in the middle of Kansas, the highest point on the Heartland 100-Mile race course. It was pouring rain and hailing, and lightning was striking the ground all around me. The thunder was deafening. The winds were almost knocking me off my feet, and I still had 70 more miles to run to complete this race! I thought of the quote by Thor Heyerdahl as I too wondered how I ever came to be here attempting such a feat. You really do get into these things in the smallest of degrees, and it all seems rational and normal until something makes you wonder when you lost your sanity.

I ran my first 100-mile race in April 2006 at the Umstead 100Mile Endurance Run. It was a perfect day. I ran well, felt great, had a good time, and enjoyed