Prologue
This is some thoughts for my dearly beloved little
brother who passed away 3 weeks ago due to a stroke.
His name is Ken Arnott, and he was an extraordinary
athlete. He was a beautiful giving person, who always thought of others before
himself. He was married to Janie and had
2 loving children, Jeff and Emily. My children and Ken’s are exactly the same
age. Our youngest kids are only 2 days apart and our oldest are only one month
apart. Ken lived a very healthy
lifestyle. He didn’t drink or smoke. He ate healthy and went to the doctor’s
regularly. He loved the gym and the spin classes. He suffered a massive stroke
on June 1/13, and succumbed to this stroke on June 6/ 13. There was no warning.
Strokes are definitely ‘the silent killer’.
Ken and I knew each other for almost 51 years. He passed
away 3 weeks shy of his 51st birthday. I have many stories of our
growing up together in Scarborough, Ontario, but this short story is dedicated
to our last race together.
Ken did his first marathon in 1988, one year after I did
mine. I ran him in for the last 10K (6 miles in those days). After he got home and puked and slept for
numerous hours, he said to me that he will never do that again. Oh boy, was he
wrong. He did many more races and graduated up to Ultra Marathons.
Ken and I were pretty prolific runners in our day. We
both have done sub 3 hour marathons in our prime. Ken was a much better runner
than I. He won many races and awards in
his career. He was the Ontario 50K Champion in 2010 and holds the 50K course
record at the Seaton Trail race. He ran
half marathons in under 1:20 and did the 30K Around the Bay race every year and
usually finished around the 2 hour mark. He has done dozens of marathons. His
PB was a 2.55.
Ken (on the left) and the author.
The Final Lap
My little brother Ken and
I have been running together for the better part of 25 years. He was at the
finish line for my first marathon in 1987, and I ran him in at his first
marathon in 1988. We have been training and running together ever since.
Throughout the years we
celebrated our notable running accomplishments together. Our first marathon,
our first ‘sub 3’, our 1st age group, our first 50k, 100k, 100
miler. This is a little ode to Ken and our last race together. It was the
Sulphur Springs 100 mile in May 2012. I don’t know why I am writing this. I
hated essays in school and haven’t written one since I left over 35 years ago.
For some reason I feel I owe this to him, or maybe it’s therapy for myself as I
struggle with his loss. Regardless, here it is………..
May 25-2012
Ken and I arrive in the
parking lot of the Sulphur Springs 100 mile race. This is the night before the
race starts. You have to be there the night before to attend the mandatory
meeting prior to the race and have your pasta dinner. It was a beautiful warm
night. Ken and I met in the parking lot. We brought camping gear, but decided
we were just going to sleep in our own vehicles. We proceeded to check in to
get our bibs and goodie bags. Here’s where the freaky part starts.
Our mother, Bev passed
away on Sept. 14, 2004. Her birthday was June 29, 1939. We have always
considered ‘29’ a lucky number. I play it in lotteries, draws and always at the
roulette table. Now there are 1,100 people registered in this race. Ken
receives his goodie bag and opens it up. His bib number for the Sulphur Springs
100 miler is # 29…Freaky. We have the pasta dinner with our friends Garth and
Veronique, and assorted other very nervous ultra marathoners. Garth is
attempting to finish his first, Ken has done one before and I have done two.
You get very nervous the night before any race, but that is multiplied tenfold
before a 100 miler.
Anyways, we finish our
dinner, have some idle chit chat with people we really don’t know and proceed
to the back of my SUV where we set up a couple of lawn chairs. We are waiting
for the darkness to set in so we can go to bed. The start time is 6:00 A:M:, so
we know we have to be up by at least 4: 00 to eat and let the bodily functions
occur.
I will never forget that
night. Ken and I sat there and the conversation just flowed. There wasn’t an
idle minute or awkward silence. We were like a couple of schoolgirls who hadn’t
seen each other for weeks. We talked about everything, the kids, our
relationships, our parents, anything and everything that came to our minds, simply
rolled off our tongues. It was a magical night, and it is one I will always
treasure. I didn’t know how much I would treasure till this month.
As darkness arrives, we
decide to call it a night. I say to Kenny, I’d love to have a coffee in the
morning, but we have some premium parking spots which we will definitely lose
if we leave to get a coffee. We were planning on having these spots, so we can
use them as fuel stations during the 8 x 20K loops we will be doing
tomorrow. Ken says, I would love a
coffee in the morning too. We say good night to each other, and hope we can
sleep in the front seat of our vehicles….
May 26 2012
The day of the race, I
wake up to a knock on my window at 4:30. It’s Ken. He took off to Tim Hortons,
and got us some x-Large coffees. That is just the type of guy he was. Always
loving to do something for you. I thanked him graciously for this noble errand.
He of course thought nothing of it. We proceed to our pre-race rituals. Ken
tapes every toe. I put on Vaseline and body glide in parts you really don’t
want to know about. The 50 milers start to arrive. (the 100 milers spend the
night at the start line) and the runners who are doing the 50 mile race arrive
in the morning. After greeting a few friends, we head off to the start line
with nervous anticipation.
You have no idea how you
are going to make out as you are on the brink of running for 100 miles. I
believe that is what Ken and I desired so much in these races. After running so
many half marathons, marathons, and 50k’s, you know what to expect and how to
deal with it. The 100 mile race is a totally different animal. Running for 24
plus straight hours is a test in endurance which is unparalleled in pretty much
any sport. It is the ‘unkown’ that endeared us to this. Will we finish? What
will I feel like? Is my stomach going to keep it together? What will my time
be? Can I make the cutoffs? So many unkowns……
At the start line we run
in to our friend, Garth. He is nervous, as so are we. Ken and I say to each
other we are going to do 3 hour loops. (Sulphur Springs is a 162K race which is
made up of 8 x 20 K loops). 3 hour loops will get us back in 24 hours. 24 hours
is the magical number most ultra marathoners strive to achieve. Much like a sub
3 or sub 4 marathon or a BQ (Boston Qualifier).
6:00 A:M:, the horn sounds
and we are off and running. Ken and I stick together. He has stated to me many
times before at races that we will stick together. What usually happens is he
puts up with my pace for 5 minutes and then says, ‘I’ll see you at the finish’.
This is fine for me and for most runners. Come race day, you run your own race.
Though this day, Ken and I stuck together. The conversation was still flowing.
We made it through the first 20k in just over 2 hours. Wow that was quick? Time
flies when you’re having fun. And we were…..
As the race proceeded, we
ended up running with different people, as you always do in almost every race.
During this race though, runners we never knew were joining us and saying ‘hey,
the Arnott brothers’, how you guys making out? As they would leave, or we would
leave them, I would say to Ken… Who was that? He said, ‘I have no idea’. We were making a name for ourselves and
didn’t even realize it. Probably due to Ken winning many races the year before,
and then they saw my name down the list……It was nice to get the recognition.
Even though I owe pretty much all of it to Ken’s accomplishments….
2nd loop done
in just over 4 hours. Still running easy and feeling fine. Just yakking up a
storm. Our buddy Garth see us and says ‘Hey, nice 3 hour loops you
sandbaggers’. We laugh and give him the thumbs up. It’s getting hot, so we
change clothes and re-hydrate. I’m at my van and get word that Kenny is waiting
for me at the start to run again. I hurry to the start line and we proceed for
lap 3. Time is flying by and the running is fluid. We are seeing lots of our
friends now out on the course doing their particular races. Some are doing the
50K, some 25K and some the 50 mile. It is nice seeing them. Ken and I are still
flying along. We get to the end of the 3rd loop, 60K, and Ken says,
I’m going to take off for a while. This means ‘See ya later’. I know it, and am
fine with it. I am just grateful that we were able to run 60K together. It is
one of the most memorable runs I will ever have.
As the race goes along, I
see Ken numerous times out on the trails. He always has a smile and a wave for
me. He didn’t have this just for me, he had it for everyone. I will miss that
so much.
Always smiling, waving and
genuinely asking how you are making out…
This is the other freaky
thing I have to tell you. I referred to our mother passing away earlier. Well,
at her funeral, we played an Avril Lavigne song, ‘I Miss You’. As I was heading out on my 7th
loop, 120K done, it was getting dark. I decided to throw my IPOD on to keep me
company as I proceeded on the trails in the dark. My IPOD has 1500 songs on it.
I am over 50, and therefore always put my IPOD on shuffle, cause I don’t know
how the other buttons work. Anyhow, as I put the IPOD on and head on to the
trails, the very first song that comes on is the Avril Lavigne song. ‘I Miss
You’. With Ken getting bib # 29 and this song playing, we knew our mother was
with us that day. It was very comforting.
Ken and I both completed
the 100 miler that day. He did a 20:31 and I did a 20:46. It was personal bests
for both of us. At the end of the race, his daughter Emily, who was at each of
his races was screaming the loudest for us. I knew I was near the finish when I
heard her. It was 2:00 in the A:M: when we both were done and gave each other a
huge hug. Thankful that it was over, but I think more thankful that we were
together and could share in our accomplishment.
After about 1 hour we
decided we need a shower. Ken’s wife Janie drove us the 200 metres to the
shower cause we couldn’t walk. While in the shower we were comparing war
wounds. Ken’s toes were hideous. I had chafing that was so bad, it was
bleeding. We checked each other out and had a silent respect for each other. We
had come a long way since that first marathon 25 years ago.
It was time to try and get
some sleep. After about 2 hours, I got up to see if our friend Garth had made
it. Who did I meet at the finish line but Ken. He was curious as well. We each
grabbed a lawn chair and watched as Garth completed his first 100 miler. We were
still comparing our races with each other ‘shooting the breeze’ till the sun
came up.
I have a whole life time
of stories about my brother and I, but this is just a quick blurb on our very
last race together. I didn’t know it at the time, but this will be etched in my
mind forever.
Ken was a very
compassionate soul who put everyone before himself. He has only been gone 3
weeks and I miss him more than I ever thought I would.
I love you brother…
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