As you read this lead sentence reporting the death of ultra marathon runner Micah True, listen to the reverential poetry: “Up mountainsides, through deserts and the wildest of rugged terrain, there was little that could break the serenity or solitude of Micah True as he ran. Only, perhaps, the pounding beat of his heart or the rhythm of his feet as they hit the trail, mile after mile after mile.”
When he went missing from a 12-mile run last Tuesday, scores of fellow runners began the search in the remote New Mexico desert. It wasn’t until Saturday that he was found by a mountain stream, his legs in the water, water bottle by his side. He was 58.
True was the race director of the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, a 50-plus mile extreme race held in Urique, Mexico. He organized the run in 2003 to call attention to and
help the Tarahumara Indians who live in the region and are, themselves, noted for distance running.
His planned run on that Tuesday was routine for him. He had run six miles on Monday. The 12-mile jaunt he be- gan Tuesday morning was no challenge. But go back to that second sentence and reread the phrase about his pounding heart.
Perhaps some physician/ mathematician could estimate how many times True’s heart pounded over those 58 years. How many normal lifetimes would it take to match that total — as if we each had an al- located number of beats.
Micah True lived a joy-filled life, from all accounts. He left a raft of friends and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of reverential admirers. He also made a poignant endorsement of the virtue of moderation.
— Emerson Lynn, jr.
