Rompin’ and a-Stompin’

“You suck majorly right now.”

That was Molly’s assessment of me at 7:30 Saturday morning as we parked on the lawn outside the Bishop Hill Colony School. There were just a couple other cars there and nary a soul in sight. Registration for the Swedish Stomp started at 7 a.m. Race time was 9. I know it’s a small race, but I figured we should arrive early since Moll wasn’t pre-registered.

“Huh. Guess we coulda slept in,” I said, surveying the scene. That’s when my darling daughter assured me in no uncertain terms she would have appreciated the extra winks and that my standing in her 14-year-old world just then was on par with Cinderella’s wicked stepmother.

Well, we sent inside the old school, where volunteers from the Bishop Hill Old Settlers’ Association were taking registrations (there was one other runner at the table), making coffee and setting up for the morning’s event. We took care of our registrations (mine was graciously paid for by a dear friend who couldn’t attend and transferred hers to me). Olof handled the paperwork. Or rather several Olofs handled every aspect of race day preparations. The volunteers wore the same name on their tags, after Bishop Hill colonist and artist Olof Krans. 

Randy "Olof" records a registration.

Krans was a self-taught artist who captured scenes of everyday life in the Swedish colony known as the Utopia on the Prairie. His works are displayed in the Olof Krans Museum in this historic bit of bucolia.

Well, we went about the usual pre-race rituals of pinning bids, potty-visits and pontificating. Eventually friends arrived. Molly’s friends Harper, Anna and Gillian were there, along with Harper’s brother, Jackson, and dad, Tom, who is a friend of mine. Tom, at 44, was running his first 5K (same age at which I started), as was Jackson. Gillian was cheerleading today, as she was recovering from a cold. We chatted and milled about until race time, showing due respect at the singing of the national anthem and then finding a spot on the road for the start.

It was a beautiful day for a run – 43 degrees at 6:30 and I would guess 10 degrees warmer than that at race time – and barely any wind, though the giant turbine blades on the nearby wind farm were spinning slowly. The course is sort of flat. OK, it’s a mix of flat and hilly, but the hills roll gently and the countryside is lovely – except that short section near the 2-mile mark that I referred to as a poop farm. The manure smell was strong there, but I saw no sign of livestock. Maybe I was blind. On the return leg I yelled to Harper as she ran beside me that it must be a poop farm. Later, Moll agreed, and laughed at the prospect of such an enterprise.

Our group did well. We were a slew of seconds. Tom and I finished second in our respective age groups, as did Molly and Jackson. Anna placed first in hers, though technically second because a girl in her division was the women’s overall winner and eliminated from division placement. Harper finished third in her division, but ahead of me. I’d say we rocked! I’m thinkin’ team T-shirts next year. Maybe Gillian and her mom and Harper’s mom will join. Those gals have done this run. We’d represent Galesburg well.

Medals hang from a rack set upon an old
Bishop Hill fire truck awaiting distribution.

Props and shout-out to Tom and Jackson, who were running their first 5K race. I love new runners because I know what a life-changer running can be. Way to go, guys!

Post-race, we unwound in Bishop Hill Central Park (I think that’s what it’s called). Tom and Jackson returned to Galesburg and I shepherded the girls. We visited the Colony Bakery for delicious treats, which we carted off to the park. We swung on the swings and spun on the merry-go-round, gobbled our goodies and had an M&Ms war with the Peanut M&Ms Gillian brought. I can’t believe how many I ate after they’d landed on the ground. Molly was chucking them at me from the spinning merry-go-round as I sat at a nearby picnic table. Then the girls started flinging them at each other between the merry-go-round and the swings. It was a regular candy cannonade.

Gee, I’ve blathered on so about the race and the funstivities afterward (that’s fun+festivities) (and I don’t care if that’s technically redundant) (I mean, are festivities necessarily fun?), I don’t have space to delve into Bishop Hill history. Not that I’m an expert. But at one time I harbored a cache of knowledge relative to the past of this place. My 2004 Rotary International Group Study Exchange team shared with Swedish Rotarians the story of Bishop Hill in an entertaining fashion. Much I have forgotten. But I took pleasure in informing the girls of the irony of the bronze plaque set into the faux-brick sidewalk two blocks from the school in commemoration of John Root. Surely he is a notable figure in the colony’s history. Or, more accurately, a notorious figure. 

Moll overshadows the John Root Walkway.

You see, it was Root who murdered colony founder Erik Jansson. It’s a convoluted and incomplete story, but you can read bits of it here. The part I remember is that Root wanted to marry Jansson’s daughter and the colony leader forbade it. I believe they wed in secret. Later, when the two men were in Cambridge on separate court matters, Root shot and killed Jansson.

Now, I am all for latching onto the nefarious for financial or historical reasons. Hey, if you have claim on  Jesse James or Adolph Hitler, why not milk it, rather than hide it? But it seems odd to me to have what amounts to a memorial to Root in Bishop Hill. It’s like having a bronze plaque for John Wilkes Booth outside Ford’s Theatre.

Go figure. Hey, I’m no historian. Just a B.S. artist.

Today's Stats

Temp: 43 degrees F (at 6:30, not sure about race time – quite pleasant)

Distance: 3.1 miles

Weekly Total: 5.95 miles

Time: 32:20
Place: 2nd in Men's 45-49
Overall: 52 out of 83

The little girl carried by her dad did a
face-plant about 8 steps into the Skamperoo
and lay there for about 10 seconds before
rising, in tears. Dad to the rescue scooped
her up and carried her the rest of the way
along with her sister. Beautiful moment.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):

Strong Tower – Kutless

Unwell – Matchbox Twenty

Reality – Newsboys

Busted – Matchbox Twenty

Bullet the Blue Sky – U2

Against the Grain – Garth Brooks

The Man Who Couldn’t Cry – Louden Wainwright III

Whiskey from the Bus – Ryan Adams (live studio banter)

Don’t Stop (live) – Fleetwood Mac (Great inspirational finisher! This is the awesome video from "The Dance," with the USC Marching Trojans joining the band on stage.)

OK, sidebar for marching band geeks. I remember watching this concert on PBS years ago with my now ex-wife, also a marching band geek. We loved it. Can you imagine the awesomeness of performing on stage with a major rock group like Fleetwood Mac? I remember the mystique of "Tusk" and the USC band when that first happened. To watch this years later was phenomenal. What a memory for those USC students, as it would have been for their predecessors.