I will be the first to admit that of the various sports I do, I am least competent at technical mountain biking.

Unlike running, road riding, or even riding on packed trails, mountain biking demands mental effort as much as physical. While riding a twisty, rocky, trail — especially one with lots of steep drops — you have to constantly think of the best way to ride through. A mistake and you could very quickly be embracing the ground. (That’s about the time I say “I’m really getting too old for this sh*t..”)

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I believe that there is no sporting event quite like a marathon.

The marathon is the Olympics for the ordinary person. The ordinary person doing an extraordinary thing. A sporting event in which complete amateurs can take their position on the starting line alongside world class athletes. A sporting event where the majority of participants, the vast majority, are competing not to win, but to prove to themselves what they are capable of.

Anyone reading this can complete a marathon. Really. Train for about four or five months, and if you are mentally dedicated to completing a marathon, you will do so.

No, it’s not easy. Not at all. It will take running when you don’t feel like it, running in bad weather, running with aches and pains and blisters. But the one thing it does not require is innate, natural ability. You will never throw a ball for the Ravens or the Yankees. You will not win an Olympic Gold Medal in anything, not even synchronized swimming. But you CAN finish a marathon if you are determined enough.

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First the most important update.

Last night’s CT scan showed dramatic improvement. The cancer has shrunk significantly. Our Doc texted me a thumb’s up icon. (He is a man of few words. But we don’t mind the picture.)

This morning in shul it felt like Yom Kippur. Fourth time this year. I knew that during the minyan — at the same exact time — they were going over the scan results at Share Zedek.

While we have had periods where we felt there would be good news, I have to admit at other times, I was not sure. But those were really guesses. We know that we have to have a scan for them to determine exactly what’s going on. And the last one was not so good.

But not this one. The aggressive chemo, the armored Brigade, seems to be winning the war.

Of course today of all days, we in Israel fully comprehend that the war is never truly over. We must continue to do what needs to be done. The survival of our nation depends on it.

We must still continue with the chemo treatments and all the other yuckiness. We do not know what this news really means in the long run. We will get more details in a few days at our next chemo treatment.

BUT — we will take this step foreword. And smile.

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It was not the plan, not even close.

The plan had been to run ten kilometers with Chaim Wizman as he started the insane Y’m L Yam ultra marathon. I would run ten with him then say good-bye and run back to my car. A twenty kilometer run is a good solid workout. No need to go further, especially that the marathon season is behind us.

When I woke up around four in the morning I could hear the Neve Daniel wind raging outside. It was cold and raining.  I debated whether I should even get out of bed. But I had told Chaim the night before that I would run with him and didn’t want to leave him hanging. Plus, he would be at it for 6 or 7 hours. I was going to be done by 8:00. I was going to eat a hot breakfast. I couldn’t really complain.

So way before dawn I jumped in the car and headed for Modi’in. I had none of the usual stress that always accompanies me before a race. Because I wasn’t going to race. I was just going out for a jog. Maybe I would even walk back to the car and make it more of a hike than a run. Why not?

Chaim, on the other hand, was registered for the competitive race. While I was hanging out in the dark, he drove up for the 6:00 AM start at about 5:59. By the time we got to the start line, everyone else had already begun the epic run. Chaim and another friend were actually pinning their numbers on while running. I know what it’s like to come late for a race so I didn’t envy them. And as far as I was concerned, we could have started an hour after everyone else. I was just going for a friendly jog.

We started running the first twelve kilometer segment and at one point Chaim said to me that I was — in fact — going to run the whole race with him. Ha! I laughed. What a joker. How dumb did he think I was! I would be taking a nice hot shower by the time he was not even halfway through. What a sucker.

But then….. then…… I started to think. (Usually a dangerous thing for me.)

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A few years ago, I was in Tiveria getting ready for my second marathon.  I had trained meticulously for this race.

I devoured every e-mail from the Bet Shemesh running club and ran every training run at the precise pace that would enable me to hit my goal time in the big race. I was as obsessed and focused as a newly minted B’all Shuva throwing on a big black hat within months of giving up cheeseburgers. (Can’t explain. You either get this or you don’t.) I lived and breathed marathon training. At all sorts of ridiculous times I would go out running to make sure I was doing everything possible that would enable me to hit my goal time come race day.

Nothing was going to stop me running the race of my life. Nothing.

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