Al at 70

Several years ago Dave, a friend of mine whom I had met at a race in Tennessee over a decade ago came all the way from Ohio to Peachtree City, Georgia to compete in one of our Darkside running events.  The first thing he asked me the morning of the race was this:

Is Al Barker going to be here?

Dave had read several of my books and anyone familiar with my publications knows that I spend considerable time writing about the personalities, accomplishments and idiosyncrasies of my running friends.  Of those friends, no one gets more ‘ink’ (nor has run more miles with me) than Albert E. Barker.   It didn’t surprise me one bit that Dave would immediately inquire about him on his first venture into Fayette County, Georgia.  After all, that’s where Al lives.   Or rather, gained his infamy. 

Anyone who has ever read anything I’ve written about Al over the years—and believe me when I tell you there’s a lot to be read—knows four things about him: (1) He’s an exceptional runner, (2) he’s an exceptional artist, (3) he’s an exceptional photographer and (4) he’s an exceptional character.  As for the latter,  Dave couldn’t wait to see the man who snacked on plastic potpourri at a social function because he mistakenly thought they were party snacks…and ate a handful of Starburst candies without removing the wrappers…and poured creamer into his glass of water instead of his coffee, then stirred it up and drank it…and ate an entire order of shrimp with the shells intact because after he ate the first one and his oversight was pointed out he tried to save face by saying that he ‘liked them that way’ and then had no other choice but to eat every last one of them, shells and all.  Dave thought it might be cold enough that Al would show up wearing a cat sweater as he did years ago, thinking he had grabbed his wool cap from the closet before heading out for a run.  Dave was anxious to meet the man famous for the quote ‘Put me down for a turd’ and the question ‘Have you ever stepped in your own sh*t?’ (Let me stop here for a moment: If you want to read more you’re just going to have to read my books.  No, this isn’t a shameless plug, rather simply a cold, hard fact.)   

Al turns 70 today.  It’s hard to believe that when we started running together in the fall of 1993 that Al, almost 10 years my senior was only 48 years old.  A lot of time and a lot of miles have accumulated since then.   While both of us have slowed down a bit over the years, Al has a lot to be proud of.  When he was 50 years old he ran a marathon in St. George, Utah a few seconds over three hours.  When he was 60 years old he ran 100 miles in San Diego, California in less than 24 hours.  In his 50’s he earned a piece of two Guinness World Records as a member of both the men’s masters and grandmasters 100 X 1 mile relay teams.

Before I met Al he had run a sub-five minute mile and a Boston Marathon in the low 2:50’s, not to mention numerous 10K’s in the 35 to 36 minute range.  The man had speed, endurance and a finishing kick that ranks with the best of them.  Still has the latter, in fact.  Do you know the joke about the two runners trying to elude a bear and one runner says to the other ‘we have to outrun this bear or we’re both going to die’ and the other runner says ‘no, I just have to outrun you!’   I mention it because if Al and I are ever running together near his cabin in the mountains of North Carolina and a bear comes chasing after us, Al better get to work writing my eulogy.

Al has already had quite an exciting year in 2015.  Last month he became a grandfather for the first time:  Al’s daughter Ashley and her husband Cameron became the proud parents of twin daughters Emery and Conner.  Al’s first question to me after telling me the news of the latest addition to the Barker clan was ‘How old were you when you ran your first race with Krischan (my grandson)?’  It didn’t surprise me one bit, because I know how anxious he is to share the things that mean the most to him with the people he loves.  And Al certainly loves his granddaughters.  (Be ready, girls: Paint brushes and cameras won’t be too far behind your first pair of running shoes!)      

As you might have guessed Al still has his competitive spirit.  Next month Al and I are running in a 5K race—a race he served as Race Director in its first year over three decades ago—as he is eager to see how he will fare in his new age group.   I remember a while back—about the time he turned 60, I believe—Al could tell who was in his age group by the number of wrinkles on the back of his competitors’ necks.   Something tells me that when he runs in that first 5K in his new age group he won’t be seeing too many wrinkled 70-year old necks in front of him.  The man can still run. 

Getting back to Dave from Ohio and wanting to meet Al, I’m happy to report that the two of them did meet that day and hit it off immediately.  Although Al wasn’t running in the race, he was going to lead the first 5.2-mile loop of the race on his bicycle.  A couple of minutes after I gave the ‘Go’ command to start the race, I saw Al walking back towards the starting line guiding his bicycle with one hand and a shoe in the grasp of the other.  It seems Al’s shoe was untied and the lace got tangled in the bicycle chain, forcing the tires to come to a sudden stop and causing Al to fly over the top of the handlebars and onto the ground in full view of all of the runners.    

It’s safe to assume Dave got what he came to Georgia looking for.