http://www.durangoherald.com/asp-bin/article_generation.asp?article_type=peel&article_path=/columnists/articles/peelArticles/peel061218_1.htm
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Donations may be made to the Marc Witkes Memorial Cross Country Scholarship, c/o Fort Lewis College Foundation, 1000 Rim Drive, Durango, CO 81301. The scholarship, previously named the Durango Motorless Transit Scholarship, goes to a Four Corners-area cross country runner attending Fort Lewis.
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By John Peel
Stubborn and lovable: An ode to Marc Witkes
December 18, 2006
He'll never again ride up to me - "Hey Peel, what's new" - and start chatting before my answer.
He'd cornered the market on idiosyncrasies, but we never doubted his courage, his ability to suffer. He almost always had a positive attitude, no matter what life was throwing at him. And he remembered things that let you know, despite the constant gab, he listened closely when you spoke to him.
Marc Witkes died Dec. 10, collapsing less than 300 yards from the end of the Tucson Marathon. His finish time would have qualified him to again run his beloved Boston Marathon. He went into cardiac arrest and could not be revived.
Was he pushing too hard?
Of course. But Witkes - by the common man's definition - always pushed too hard.
This was a guy who learned through painful experience that he could overcome virtually any obstacle put in his way. He seemed to relish life's challenges, and if he didn't see anything in his way he'd put something there himself. Thus, the "double ironmans" he endured - a 4.8-mile swim, 225-mile bike and 52-mile run.
My first long experience with Witkes came in 1997 when I wrote about the infamous Death Ride, a 220-mile one-day bicycle trip around the San Juan Skyway. We pedaled together up Red Mountain Pass, and I'm sure I poked fun at his retro '70s-era gear, which I believe included an actual 10-speed drivetrain and - gasp! - toe clips. (He finished, I rode just a few miles.)
Stories of his exploits are numerous. One of his most frequent running partners, John McAward, shared a few last week. During the Hardrock Hundred, a 101-mile journey in the San Juan Mountains that ultramarathoners list as one of the world's most challenging, Witkes' hamstring tightened and other muscles cramped badly several miles from the end. He could barely walk, barely bend any limb.
Witkes took pride on being self-reliant, but knew that sometimes you got by with a little help from friends and family. He didn't own a car, so the times he didn't pedal his bike to Moab or the Grand Canyon (seriously) to compete in a run the next day, heaccept a car ride.
McAward, who was pacing Witkes at the 2001 Hardrock, had to coax him along. Witkes wanted to wait until morning for Search and Rescue. Half (or less) lucid, Witkes crawled on hands and knees under a log and across a stream, struggling the last three miles in three hours.
There was the solo multiday bicycle ride when he slept, upon a late-night arrival in tiny Lake City, unannounced under a stranger's welcome mat. Forget that grueling ride, though. He was most proud that on the final day he cruised up to Durango High School in time for the noon speed-running workout.
For years he worked what, to some, would be a mind-numbing 11 p.m.-to-7 a.m. night auditor's shift at the DoubleTree Hotel. Concurrently, he worked at Gardenswartz Sports, served as president of the Durango Motorless Transit running group and began his Herald Outdoors page column in July 2000.
"Among all the people I know," said Durangoan Marjorie Brinton, who hung out with Witkes at the start line in Tucson, "Marc pretty much lived his life to the fullest."
A surgeon removed a bone from his foot a couple years back. The prudent person would have stuck to short runs after that. Witkes wanted to go long. On the day the doctor said it was OK to put weight on his foot, he ran Imogene Pass.
"Marc was one of a kind," McAward said. "He was stubborn, belligerent, but lovable all at the same time."
One incident explains much about Marc Witkes, and he wrote about it in a Feb. 15, 2002, column.
Nearly 20 years ago, then a college student, he was in the passenger seat of a car that slid on a snow-covered road in upstate New York and smacked head-on with a truck. The Jaws of Life extracted a young man barely alive, and he was rushed to a hospital.
He was comatose for 10 days, then began a two-year rehabilitation, during which he learned to walk and think again. "Hallucinations, personality changes and compulsive behavior were obvious results of the extensive brain damage," Witkes wrote.
Witkes moved to Durango around 1990, graduated from Fort Lewis College, and became a fixture in the local running and bicycling scene.
If you met him, chances are he wouldn't forget you. He'd follow your life, inquire about your recent runs and planned races, your spouse's health.
We ran together on a chilly Thursday three days before he died, meeting at 8 a.m. at Horse Gulch. Turned out he'd already gone for a run beforehand, but insisted we still go.
True to form, Witkes kept the conversation rolling during an hour-long jog. He was excited about a lot of things, and that enthusiasm was catching. He motivated many others to pursue their dreams. And obstacles? He was overcoming them right to the end. How about Atlas Shrugged, a 1,168-page classic by Ayn Rand. Witkes continued to gush about this novel he'd just finished. "Oh, dude, you've gotta read it. That book changed my life."
Witkes, who turned 40 on Election Day, talked of plans to write a book about "Smoky Joe" Wood, a Boston Red Sox pitcher whose MVP career was derailed by an arm injury. But the player persevered, embarking on a second baseball career as an outfielder. I think Witkes could relate.
Perhaps the most poignant words about his life come from Witkes himself in that 2002 Herald column.
"Still, I know that I am one of the luckiest people around, and I will continue to run, read, learn and work hard every day to improve my physical and mental function.
"Life is never going to be the same for me after the brain injury that I suffered 15 years ago. But, I'll still try to live one day at a time, one run at a time, to the best of my abilities.
"Thank you, mom and dad, for your love, support and encouragement through all of those difficult and crazy times."
And Marc, thanks for yours.
Originally posted by widgetWidget - Marcs ex-wife had his account credentials and logged in to let his opponents know and offer draws via a move in each game.
So who was moving on his behalf on Dec.14? 🙄 Just curious, you know, in the afterlife....
Brickster - a truley moving tribute, thanks for posting it here and the link to the page where it's from.
Andy
🙂:'(🙂
Originally posted by rhbThanks for explaining, Andy. We have been tricked into believing that a TFC member had died before, so some scepticism seemed advisable.
Widget - Marcs ex-wife had his account credentials and logged in to let his opponents know and offer draws via a move in each game.
I didn't know Marc, but it sounds like he was an interesting and dedicated person. I am sorry his life ended prematurely.