Just Deserts (24 page)

“I guess that's probably true. I'm just not too sure how much it matters to me anymore whether he approves or disapproves of my choices.”

It was funny because I used to think I didn't really care about his opinions, but I guess what I really was was mad at him, pretending not to care and then making decisions to try to get his attention, screwing up so that he'd have to notice. He'd said as much in his letter—that I'd made choices to make him proud or pissed off or sorry, but never for my own reasons. Now that I knew I could look after myself—I could get lost in a desert and survive, walk till my feet were bleeding and still get where I needed to go, even help someone else along the way—I felt as though I was really ready to make my own decisions, maybe hoping he'd approve, but not really needing him to.

I'd thought that would make me feel free, but in truth it made me feel a bit sad, too. Well, maybe I was
never going to be close to my father—not in the way Andy and his dad were—but at least now I had some real friends. And not just L'Orange of Tunisia!

“Maybe the best I can hope for is that he doesn't think I'm a major disappointment,” I told Larson.

“Think about what you did and how you did it,” he said. “Think about the friendship and respect you've earned from Andy and Connor and Kajsa … and me. Just remember that the only person who can make you feel bad about yourself is you.”

He reached over and took both my hands and held them in his. “Are you a disappointment?”

I took a moment to answer him. I wanted to be sure that I really believed what I was going to say.

“No, I'm not,” I told him. “I did good. And I'm going to try to stay on course. On
my
course. All I have to do is figure out exactly where that course is going to take me.”

“You don't have to think about the next seventy years. Take it one day at a time. What are you going to do tomorrow and the next day and the next and—?”

“I was sort of hoping to talk to you about that. When are you going back out into the desert?”

“In two weeks I have another group of young people who I'm taking on the same trek.”

“Do you have space for one more person?” I asked. “I have the money to pay my way, so I can help with the next well. Can I come along?”

“Just tell me why … why do you want to do it when you've already done it?”

“The first time I did it because I had to, because I was forced to. This time it's for me. It's my decision, it's my walk.”

“I'd be honoured to have you along.”

“And I'd be honoured to be along. Besides, I have something I have to do. You'll think this is crazy.”

“Try me.”

I pulled L'Orange out of my pocket. He was all wrinkled and there was a bit of green growing on his peel.

“Are we going to pass through that oasis, the one where we met Mohammad?”

“That's on our planned route.”

“I kind of promised L'Orange that I'd return him to where he belongs. That I'd plant him right there with the other orange trees.”

“Why would I think that's crazy?” he asked. “I'll make another promise to you, and to L'Orange. Every time I go through that oasis, every time Mohammad or his clan go through that oasis, we'll water and tend to L'Orange. And in time, every time somebody picks an orange from that tree, it will be because of you.”

I found myself choking up, tears coming to my eyes. I didn't want the guys to see me like that when they got back. And I didn't want them to feel
sorry for me, nor did I want to take away the happiness they'd be feeling having just talked to their families … and really, I guess I didn't want to hear about that when it was the very thing I didn't have.

“I'd better get to the hotel lobby and grab a taxi— I need to see the lawyer again to make the final arrangements,” I said. “I know it isn't far from here, but for some reason, I just don't feel like walking right now.”

He laughed. “I understand. So, we'll see you right after that?”

“Count on it.”

I walked—at least hobbled—away.

The lobby was fairly crowded. It was a four-star hotel, and it was obviously popular with foreign businessmen. They all looked kind of the same to me—briefcase, suit and tie, shiny shoes. But when I looked again, I realized that one of the CEO types stood out from the others.

It was my father!

Larson had told me that he'd texted him to let him know we'd arrived safely. I figured he'd gotten that text in New York, but had he really come all the way to Tunis to meet me?

When he saw me, his face lit up and he crossed the lobby to join me. I didn't know quite what I was going to say to him, or what he might want to say to me, but I felt sure of one thing anyway—just as this
was a chance for a new beginning for me, it was also the chance for a new start with him. Things could only get better from here. And we'd take it slowly, one step at a time.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

In the summer of 2009 a friend mentioned an acquaintance of his, Ray Zahab. Ray is one of the most incredible athletes this country has ever produced. He is an ultra-marathon runner who, along with his running mates, Kevin Lin and Charlie Engle, ran across the Sahara Desert from the Atlantic to the Pacific.This epic journey took 111 days in which they ran over 7500 kilometres, averaging more than sixty-two kilometres per day. This is almost beyond belief. Even more unbelievable, this is just one of his adventures. Ray has written what I hope is the first instalment of his adventures in the fascinating book
Running for My Life
(Insomniac Press, 2007).

I arranged to meet Ray and went to a screening of their journey,
Running the Sahara
, produced and narrated by Matt Damon. After the screening Ray and I talked—not only about the Sahara run but also about something he was even more enthusiastic about: his newest initiative, Impossible2Possible (
www.impossible2possible.com
). This innovative
program gives teens hands-on experience in leading expeditions around the world as Youth Ambassadors, communicating with participating schools by satellite technology and providing inspiration to reach beyond the limits and make positive change in the world. At that point he knew it would be a desert crossing and that it would take place the following spring.

I had no illusions that I could keep pace with these amazing athletes, but I knew I could participate and could walk along with them in their tracks. Over the next six months I went into training, walking no fewer than twenty kilometres per day, with my longest training walks almost fifty kilometres—in essence an “ultra-marathon.” Through dozens of blisters, multiple pairs of shoes and numerous walking partners, I walked close to 4000 kilometres in preparation.

In April 2010 I joined Ray on a trip across the Sahara, traversing Tunisia. Guiding the expedition, along with Ray, was Marshall Ulrich. Marshall is one of the very few people on the entire planet who can be considered a “peer” of Ray's. As well as running across the United States, he has completed the Seven Summits (climbing the highest mountain on each continent), won numerous ultra-marathons through the harshest of environments, and was a champion in eco-challenge races around the world. These adventures are documented in his book,
Running on Empty
(Avery Publishing, 2011).

As this was an Impossible2Possible expedition, the leaders of this trip were four Youth Ambassadors: Andy, Connor, Jill and Kajsa. The characters in my book are, with their permission, named after them and elements of their personalities were embedded in my story, with the Kajsa character being an amalgamation of Jill and Kajsa. They are four high-performance athletes who are even better people than they are athletes. Connor has become an ongoing guest at our family functions as he attends the University of Guelph on a running scholarship, and Andy spent the first part of 2011 in our project in Kenya (
www.creationofhope.com
), teaching at a local school and living on the grounds of our orphanage.

The character Larson is a product of my imagination but he certainly shares many of the adventures of both Ray and Marshall, as well as their philosophic outlook on life. Ray has a boundless love of life and practically vibrates as he talks. Marshall is a calm observer of life—picture Buddha as an ultra-marathon runner.

Over an eight-day period they ran over 250 kilometres. I walked close to 200 of those kilometres. As I moved forward on blister-covered feet, the searing heat, the sandstorms, the scorpions, vipers and herds of wild camels became my reality.

Many of the things that happened on this trip are part of the story: sleeping in the tents, the
sandstorm, the oasis, a magical evening under the stars with our guides playing music and singing songs, and a tremendous thunderstorm.

As our party ran each day I walked. Often I would start first, pointed in a general direction, and then I would be overtaken by the runners within a few kilometres. On some days I caught them by lunch, as they slept to avoid the high-noon sun, and I'd keep going. On one day I found myself far ahead, out of contact with anybody for hours, and realized that I was “lost” in the desert. I started to walk back into my tracks before I found they had been blown away. I stood there, figuring out how much water I still had, how long I could survive on my own, and then waited. As I waited I pulled out my little writing pad and made the notes that became the basis for my character in the book becoming lost.

This novel is finished but Ray's adventures are ongoing. His new book,
Running to Extremes: Ray Zahab's Amazing Ultramarathon Journey
(written with Steve Pitt; Penguin, 2011), is the ultimate, most up-to-date account of Ray's epic journeys. He continues his quest not only to push the envelope of what is possible but also to educate and inspire students around the world. He invites schools to get involved through Impossible2Possible, to come along for these trips, and to share the message, the realization, that almost nothing is impossible.