Free 50/50 by Dean Karnazes

more than two or three words at a time.
    But when she voiced her own doubts about finishing, the group broke into a spontaneous chant of encouragement.
    “Go, Sarah! You can do it!” we shouted.
    It worked. She kept running. Three miles later, however, Sarah’s suffering had reached a new depth. The exertion was so great that tears began trickling down her face. The nature of our verbal support now changed from encouragement to pleading.
    “Don’t give up, Sarah!” said one runner. “You’re almost there.”
    I love to interact with people when they’re most exposed—when every layer of pretension and vanity has been stripped away and left strewn along the pathway. The marathon mercilessly rips off the outer layers of our defenses and leaves the raw human, vulnerable and naked. It is here you get an honest glimpse into the soul of an individual. Every insecurity and character flaw is open and on display for all the world to see. No communication is ever more real, no expression ever more honest. There is nothing left to hide behind. The marathon is the great equalizer. Every movement, every word spoken and unspoken, is radiant truth. The veil has been obliterated. These are the profound moments of human interaction that I live for.
    Sarah was beautiful as she ran along, not because of her striking looks, but because of her inner strength. Her resolve and tenacity were speaking volumes about her character. But could these virtuous qualities carry her any farther?
    Miraculously, she held on. The nine of us remaining together in the homestretch formed a side-by-side lineup, clasped hands, and raised our arms overhead as we crossed the finish line. Sarah doubled over and began sobbing with a mixture of joy and other emotions that are too complicated to name, but are known to everyone who has pushed his or her body beyond known limits to achieve a goal.
    “This is the best day of my whole life,” Sarah said after she had recovered. “Is that pathetic?”
    No, Sarah, it’s not pathetic. It was a great day for all of us—precisely because it had become such a memorable day for you and the others who had blasted through previous limitations to cross that finish line. We all felt the power in it.
    Better Together
    In a recent study, Arizona State University scientists found that the maximal weight-lifting ability of men and women improved significantly when they competed against others or lifted in the presence of others versus alone. Similar results have been observed in earlier studies involving runners. Interestingly, in a recent study involving elementary school children, only boys ran faster in a competitive race than they did in a solo time trial.
    The marathon finished in the same place it had started, right outside the football stadium. The Nebraska Cornhuskers football team was scheduled to play a game there against Troy University that very night. Sarah’s boyfriend, Zac Taylor, was Nebraska’s star quarterback, who would lead his team to a 56–0 demolition of the opponent. They would both have something to celebrate.
    When we crossed the finish line it was only 11:20 AM , still more than seven hours before kickoff, but already there were groups of students tailgating in the stadium parking lot. I couldn’t even imagine the condition these kids would be in come game time. Running a marathon seemed tame compared with what they were putting their bodies through.
    Because the crew had feared getting trapped in the parking lot by early arriving spectators, the Finish Festival had been set up a few blocks away. We walked over there together and went through the usual routine of interviews and handshakes. It was a bit of a comedown from the high of the magical group bonding experience we had enjoyed during the run. Despite the initiative the younger Endurance 50 crew members had taken after the Mississippi Coast Marathon on Day 3, the organization of this post-marathon festival hadn’t improved much. None of us