Athens to Atlanta

86 mile in-line skate race

A spiritual skate. By Larry L. Griffin

Last year, I set two goals: (1) To enter the Athens to Atlanta In-line skate race on October 10, 1999; (2) To secure race sponsors to help raise $1,000 for Iodine Deficiency Disorders (IDD). My Kiwanis Club is part of a $75 million worldwide effort to save the world’s children from the leading, preventable cause of mental retardation, IDD. It’s simple to prevent. Just add iodine to salt. Many third world countries, however, do not have the facilities to treat their salt.

About 40 people pledged to my IDD skate. They always asked “how long will it take you?” I replied, “Well this is my first time, so I predict 6 to 8 hours as long as it doesn’t rain.” I explained my major challenges were blisters on my feet, back pain, knee problems, or fatigue -- since my best long distance training skate was 40 miles.

To help me stay inspired and motivated during the race, I made an IDD armband. It had a photo of two persons who suffered from IDD. Above the photo, I wrote a verse from Psalm 28:7 “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.”

It was the afternoon before the big race. My hopes of reaching my goals seemed to be going down the drain (sorry for the pun.) It started to rain. The forecast called for it to continue through race day. Then, I came down with the worst case of Montezuma’s Revenge a.k.a. diarrhea. I switched my racing team allegiance from Team IDD to Team Pepto-Bismol.

Race day wake up call. I made quick dash for another “pit stop.” Team Pepto-Bismol had not taken hold. The weather report? “Well, at least it is a warm rain.” My race seemed bleak. “Skating in the rain” does not evoke the same feelings as “singing in the rain.” I had never raced in the rain before. I strapped on my IDD armband and read “my heart trusts in him.” OK Griffin. I thought to myself, “This is what faith is all about.”

It was a dark and rainy morning in Georgia. My spirit was down. But, I was at the starting line with hundreds of other skaters. The pink chewables had held for the first hour. We skated toward the first of six checkpoints. My heart rate monitor was constantly beeping. It was warning me that I was at 90 to 95% of my maximum heart rate. My favorite scene from Star Trek flashed through my mind. Captain James T. Kirk asks for warp speed 10. Scotty cries out “but Captain -- the engines -- they blow.”

Griffin “Read your armband. The Lord is my strength.” After climbing a dozen hills, I remembered Uwe Brockmann’s elevation profile of the Athens-to-Atlanta racecourse. His note said, “Elevation is exaggerated compared to linear distance.” He was wrong. The hills are that steep. Some skaters could not take the hills and were dropped from our pack. Somehow, I was strong.

The joy of reaching the top of one of those “mountains” was over shadowed by the fear of flying down the other side. I read my armband like a death row convict getting his last rites -- “The Lord is my shield.” I had never gone that fast on ten wheels. It was still raining. There was standing water on the road. I remembered hydroplaning in my van in similar conditions. Three steep hills are, forever, etched in my mind: the left hand banked turn, the railroad tracks, the infamous Silver Road Hill. On the upside of every hill, I thanked God. I was, also, shielded from other dangers: unleashed junkyard dogs, angry drivers late for church, wet tar snakes, Georgia pot holes, and no crashes.

Check point six. My armband read, “I am helped.” I reflected on the past miles. Yes indeed, I was helped. Team Pepto kicked in some where at the starting line. The Lord did not turn off the rain spigot, but my intestinal spigot was closed. My Simmons boots were filled with water, but no foot blisters. I had no back pain or knee problems. My energy level was high.

Five other great skaters helped me, too. I could not have skated A2A by myself. We passed skaters who were dropped from packs or tried to skate it along. I think it was Howard Weinstein who suggested, “we’ve skated this far together what do you say hold hands, cross the finish line together and declare a tie. I asked, “Are any of you over 50?” They replied “no.” I thought to myself, “I’m up for a tie.” It was a perfect way to finish with a great group of guys.

A2A was a spiritual experience. I was able to overcome many physical and mental challenges. I completed the 86 mile skate in 6:05. I skated strong. I felt shielded. And I was helped. Many people are not so well blessed with good health. Some health problems, like IDD, can be prevented. Those of us, who do enjoy good health, need to share our resources with those who don’t. The A2A Team Leukemia skaters are a great example. They raised $140,000 for the race against leukemia.

Larry\athens to atlanta1.doc