This is my fourth year helping to put on the Savannah Mile, yet I somehow always forget how amazing an experience it is; there are a ton of moving part for a race that short, but they always seem to work out, from the helicopter touch-down at the start to the post-race party in Johnson Square (did you try one of those hot dogs?—man alive, those suckers were good! I wasn’t even hungry and made myself eat a second). Don’t get me wrong, I love helping out with all of the races we put on, but the Mile is easily one of my favorites (and with all the feedback we overhear after, I have a sneaking suspicion it’s one of yours, too). So I’ll make my race recap short and sweet: the Savannah Mile was a huge success. We had our biggest turnout to date, some of the best weather we’ve ever had, and even better people running and cheering. Congrats to everyone who ran, and a big thanks to all of you (whether you ran or not) that help insure our way of life is safeguarded at all times. The Savannah Mile is for us all, but especially for you.
And because there’s no good way to segway into the “meat” of my write-up, I’ll just launch right in by saying that the last few weeks have been pretty darn tough on a lot of folks around the world, and that’s no exception here at home, in the lowcountry. It seems like the heartache and pain keeps piling on, rather than subsiding over time, and I know I’m not the only one that thought it might just be best to sell my car and wrap my entire house in bubblewrap, lock the doors, and never come back out again. Now, more than ever, it’s important to let family and friends know how very much they mean to you; how much you care, and how the little things they do pay big dividends in your life. Your running family is no different; I was once told “I’m pretty sure, as much time as I spend with my running buddies, that they know more about me than does my spouse.” Now, I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that when you bleed and sweat and go through pain together—when you fail and succeed together—it draws you closer, and that if it weren’t for my running buddies, I wouldn’t be half the runner—or man—I am today. So thank you Drew, thank you Stephen, thank you Joey, thank you Robert, thank you Chris, and thank you treadmill (joking). Please take the time to let those you care about know how much they matter to you, because I’d venture a guess that they’re itching to tell you the same. And as Robert would say, “get your miles in” in the process.
- Chris Ramsey