As I write this I am sitting in Newport News, VA, attending a conference dealing with the automation of logistics systems for the visibility of assets. In other words, tracking shipments thru the supply chain from manufacturer to the end military user customer.
Or, let's put it layman’s terms. We are trying to answer the age old question that’s been the realm of military logisticians since the Roman Legions: Where’s My Stuff?
Anyway, as I sit here I took my pulse as I sometimes do when I’m sitting quietly. My pulse checked in at 53, a number that has gradually climbed over the years. I’m thinking how my heart quietly and steadily beats, always there, pumping my blood day in and day out, hours by hour, minute by minute, contracting every 1 to 1 ½ seconds for up to a century, without conscious direction, without rest, without redundancy (unlike, say, kidneys or lungs).
If that’s not a great system, I don’t know what is.
So, Ultrarunners, let’s salute our hearts, the engines that propel us without us ever really thinking much about it…unless the engine develops a miss or worse.