Latest news with #Meagan
Black America Web
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Black America Web
Awkward Announcement? Fans Think Jonathan Majors Put Meagan Good's Possible Baby Bump On Blast — ‘Who Knows If She's Pregnant?'
It seems Meagan Good is ready to expand her family with husband Jonathan Majors, who might've awkwardly ambushed her with the announcement that they already started. The actress confirms that babies are definitely on her brain and is making it clear she's eager to embrace that journey with her new hubby. Source: Robin L Marshall / Getty As BOSSIP previously reported, Good's marriage to Jonathan Majors has been a whirlwind of headlines. The couple first sparked romance rumors in May 2023. They then announced their engagement in November 2024 and officially tied the knot in March of this year. Majors, 35, also comes into the marriage as a father, sharing a 12-year-old daughter from a past relationship, a fact that Meagan highlights as a positive attribute in him. Good, 43, told Us Weekly at Lifetime's Summer Soirée that having children is now a firm desire. 'I definitely am ready to have kids now,' she shared, emphasizing her partner's role. She wants to do it with someone she can 'really do it with, and get excited about doing it with, and who is a phenomenal father already, but now we can do it together.' The couple has even discussed ideal family size, with Good confirming, 'Two would be good.' And they've already got a bustling house, as she humorously noted, 'We got four dogs already. So, we got four Belgian Malinois, and they are the hyperest dogs of life, but the house is very safe.' Interestingly, Meagan credits her role as Camille Parks on the hit series 'Harlem' with helping her navigate her own feelings towards becoming a parent. 'I know that there's a lot of similarities to Camille's journey and to Meagan's journey because I always knew that I wanted to be a mother,' Good explained of her character. She went on to explore the societal pressures she felt, asking herself, ''Is that because I felt like I should want that?' And then there were times where I wasn't sure, and I was like, 'Am I pushing back against it because I don't like people telling me what I'm supposed to want?'' Playing Camille allowed her to openly explore the 'taboo' of not wanting children, 'Being able to say out loud that Camille doesn't want kids — because it's such a taboo thing to say — and everyone always goes, 'Well, what's wrong with you?'' Good elaborated. She added, 'It's, like, 'No, some people just don't want to,' and to be able to explore that with her, and then ultimately for her to be the one to get pregnant and be able to explore that journey. … Some people, maybe they just don't want to. For other people, maybe there is something you're afraid of, maybe there is something you've experienced, maybe there is something that's holding you back, and all of those things, nothing can be wrong. All these things are just a part of our journey.' Ultimately, this means Meagan Good is ready for kids in real life, 'It definitely made me excited to go, 'OK, now that I've explored and unpacked so much through my character in more ways than one, now I get to go, 'Yeah, I think this actually makes me super ready,'' she shared. Married life with Majors has been 'pretty amazing' for Good, who expressed her immense happiness as a newlywed. 'I'm just really happy,' Good told Us . 'He's very silly. He always falls asleep in the middle of movies. I love doing adventures with him. If I'm like, 'Let's just go try this. Let's go do that.' He's like, 'All right, let's go.' We're just both in it, like, two little kids who can't believe we're allowed to do what we want to do.' Speaking of Jonathan's silly side, it's hard to tell whether he was trolling us or his new bride with his latest joke about her possible baby bump. In a recent Instagram Live from their gym session, he was filming Meagan and surprisingly put her on baby bump blast. 'Her belly does look thick! Who knows if she's pregnant? I can't call it!' he said. Even with all the acting experience under her belt, Meagan couldn't hide her surprise at the awkward moment. She didn't confirm or deny a mini Majors on the way, but the joke has pregnancy rumors swirling all over the internet. It's too early for congratulations, but at least the lovebirds are living their best lives as they plan their future and family together. The post Awkward Announcement? Fans Think Jonathan Majors Put Meagan Good's Possible Baby Bump On Blast — 'Who Knows If She's Pregnant?' appeared first on Bossip. SEE ALSO Awkward Announcement? Fans Think Jonathan Majors Put Meagan Good's Possible Baby Bump On Blast — 'Who Knows If She's Pregnant?' was originally published on
Perth Now
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
Meagan Good ready to have children
Meagan Good is "definitely" ready to have children. The 43-year-old actress married Jonathan Majors - who has a 12-year-old daughter from a previous relationship - in March after two years of dating and they are now planning to add to their family, with the I'll Never Let You Go actress knowing she's picked a "phenomenal" person to have kids with. She told Us Weekly magazine: 'I definitely am ready to have kids now. 'And then, my partner [is] someone I want to really do it with, and get excited about doing it with, and who is a phenomenal father already, but now we can do it together. 'Two [children] would be good. We got four dogs already. So, we got four Belgian Malinois, and they are the hyperest dogs of life, but the house is very safe.' Meagan admitted her role on Harlem has helped her realise she wanted to have children and be a mom. She explained: 'I know that there's a lot of similarities to Camille's journey and to Meagan's journey because I always knew that I wanted to be a mother. 'But I'd have to ask myself, 'Is that because I felt like I should want that?' And then there were times where I wasn't sure, and I was like, 'Am I pushing back against it because I don't like people telling me what I'm supposed to want?' I think that, during the course of the show, being able to say out loud that Camille doesn't want kids — because it's such a taboo thing to say — and everyone always goes, 'Well, what's wrong with you?' 'It's, like, 'No, some people just don't want to,' and to be able to explore that with her, and then ultimately for her to be the one to get pregnant and be able to explore that journey. … Some people, maybe they just don't want to. For other people, maybe there is something you're afraid of, maybe there is something you've experienced, maybe there is something that's holding you back, and all of those things, nothing can be wrong. All these things are just a part of our journey. "'It definitely made me excited to go, 'OK, now that I've explored and unpacked so much through my character in more ways than one, now I get to go, 'Yeah, I think this actually makes me super ready.' " Meagan praised married life with Jonathan as "super amazing". She gushed: 'I'm just really happy. He's very silly. He always falls asleep in the middle of movies. I love doing adventures with him. If I'm like, 'Let's just go try this. Let's go do that.' He's like, 'All right, let's go.' We're just both in it, like, two little kids who can't believe we're allowed to do what we want to do.'
NDTV
5 days ago
- Climate
- NDTV
Danny Westergaard: A 66-Year-Old Runner's Journey Through One Of The Hottest Places On Earth
When the running gets hard in this desert dubbed 'hell on Earth,' Danny Westergaard tells himself: 'Slow and steady' or 'smooth as butter.' For 18 years, Westergaard, 66, has braved the scorching summer heat of California's Death Valley in an ultramarathon billed as the world's toughest. Last week, 99 runners from across the globe embarked on a grueling 135 mile (217.26 kilometer) competition from the lowest point below sea level of North America to the trailhead of the highest peak in the contiguous U.S. They had 48 hours to do it. Few have completed the competition as many times as Westergaard, a retired aerospace project manager, though finishing is not a given. 'It's just become like a summer ritual and a family reunion," he said. 'I feel at home when I'm here. It's my tribe.' For the 37th year, the Badwater 135 Ultramarathon challenged athletes to withstand stretches of this dry, searing desert. The race takes place in July, when temperatures have soared into the 130s F (54.44s C). Even as a place of extremes, Death Valley is not immune to global warming. Seven of its hottest summers have occurred in the past 10 years, according to the National Park Service. And if planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions continue at their current pace, more places could experience its broiling temperatures. Over two days, Westergaard would trek up and down mountain ranges, past sand dunes and salt flats, through quaint towns and vast desertscapes amid temperatures as high as 117 F (47.22 C). He tried to smile throughout, even when he felt miserable. 'It just lifts you up,' he said of smiling so others smile back. At 8 p.m., the first wave of runners take off. Westergaard jogs up a ramp into the pale light of dusk. It's 113 F (45 C), and it feels like a blow dryer to the face. Leap frogging in a van behind him is his cheer squad and support crew – Jennifer Drain, his smiley cousin back for the 17th year, and daughters Meagan, who has attended before, and Madison, a first timer. The crew, who playfully call Westergaard "wiener dog,' are hauling everything he needs: food, ice, water, electrolytes. This heat can kill. Soaring body temperatures can lead to organ failure and strain the heart, especially for people with heart disease, and cause heat stroke. To prevent that they keep him cool. They spray mist on him and pour ice into his hat and a bandana wrapped around his neck. His drinking water is ice cold. A few hours in, Meagan asks her dad if he's peed. 'Long stream," he responded of his amount of urine. Staying hydrated is critical. As he sweats, he's losing liquids that can critically stress kidneys if not replenished. Dehydration can cause organs to fail from lack of blood, oxygen and nutrients, leading to seizures and death. No runners have died doing the competition, but heat-related issues are common, said Megan Dell, the race's medical director. Stomach issues can lead to vomiting and dehydration. Hyponatremia — which happens when your blood's sodium is too low — has sent runners to the hospital. Westergaard has learned to embrace the rollercoaster. One moment he feels like Superman — the next he could be throwing up on the side of the road, questioning if he'll make it. 'You just suck it up, just like in life, and get through the lows, and it always gets better.' The runners dash toward mile 50.8 (81.75 kilometers), the critical cut off point they must get to by 10 a.m. or be eliminated. The sun is peaking over the mountains, casting a warm glow over dune fields. It's 85 F (29.44 C). 'Living the dream, ey?' Westergaard said with a smile, his perky strut now a droopy shuffle. He pours water on his face and arms and munches some watermelon. Madison paces behind him as they crack jokes. 'Get er done! Junior wiener in training!' Meagan yelled. Westergaard makes it to the cut off point before 9 a.m. It's 90 F (32.2 C). Mile 56 (90.12 kilometers): After moving for 14 hours straight, Westergaard rests and eats some avocado toast. 'Great! Let's motor!' he said after 10 minutes sitting on a chair. Miles later, he begins his descent into 'the oven' that is Panamint Valley, usually the hottest part of the race during the hottest part of the day. It's 96 F (35.56 C) and the heat sizzles from above and below. Westergaard runs on the white line on the road because it's cooler. In hotter years, the asphalt got so hot the bottoms of his shoes felt sticky on the ground. Westergaard trains year round to acclimate to the heat. As he gets older, he doesn't tolerate heat as well and has slowed down. His two-hour sauna sessions are now one, and he runs a few times a week instead of daily. 'I'm just out there longer,' he said, 'but still getting it done.' Tony Wolf, kinesiology professor at the University of Georgia, said aging adults generally have reduced heart function compared to younger adults. When combined with the cardiovascular demand of exercise and heat stress, it can cause difficulties. There isn't much research about how the bodies of fit older adults, including competitive athletes, regulate internal temperature. 'There aren't a ton of people in their 60s and older who are doing those kinds of events,' said Wolf. Studies focused on adults before and after a training program found that exercise improved heart function and thermoregulation. That could suggest that the heart and thermoregulation impairments linked to aging are largely mitigated by lifelong fitness, Wolf said. The runners are spread out now, their flashing lights twinkling in the distance. This night is the toughest for Westergaard as sleep deprivation sets in. He zigzags on the road, barely awake. The runners ahead of him look like they're running toward him. In past years, his hallucinations have included people luring him to rest on couches that were actually bushes. Another time, he struck up a conversation with a kid skateboarding by him with a dog. And once, he watched for hours as a guy swung off the edge of the crescent moon, waving down at him. 'It was just clear as day,' Westergaard said of the hallucination. At 3:10 a.m. at mile 98 (157.72 kilometers), he sleeps for 15 minutes under the moonlight. 'No one really quite understands' why he does this, said Madison. At 11:50 a.m. and around mile 123 (197.95 kilometers), Westergaard shuffles through the town of Lone Pine. Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental U.S., soars some 14,500 feet (4,420 meters) into the blue sky. A crowd claps and cheers as he runs by. 'Go Danny, go!' yelled a man. It's 92 F (33.33 C) as he approaches the final 4,750 foot (1,447.8 meters) mountain ascent to the finish line. Westergaard is walking at a snail's pace and says he's falling asleep. But his smile hasn't waned. 'We've come a long way,' Westergaard said, Madison pacing behind and spraying him. 'Long way for a burger!' she responded. They giggle while thinking about the veggie burger they'll buy upon finishing. Then he does, crossing the finish line with his crew at exactly 45 hours and 29 minutes. It was his most special Badwater 135 race by far, he says misty eyed, having Meagan and Madison at his side. (Except for the headline, this story has not been edited by NDTV staff and is published from a syndicated feed.)
5 days ago
- Climate
The grueling 135-mile journey of a 66-year-old runner through one of the hottest places on Earth
DEATH VALLEY NATIONAL PARK, Calif. -- When the running gets hard in this desert dubbed 'hell on Earth,' Danny Westergaard tells himself: 'Slow and steady' or 'smooth as butter.' For 18 years, Westergaard, 66, has braved the scorching summer heat of California's Death Valley in an ultramarathon billed as the world's toughest. Last week, 99 runners from across the globe embarked on a grueling 135 mile (217.26 kilometer) competition from the lowest point below sea level of North America to the trailhead of the highest peak in the contiguous U.S. They had 48 hours to do it. Few have completed the competition as many times as Westergaard, though finishing is not a given. 'It's just become like a summer ritual and a family reunion," he said. 'I feel at home when I'm here. It's my tribe.' For the 37th year, the Badwater 135 Ultramarathon challenged athletes to withstand stretches of this dry, searing desert. The race takes place in July, when temperatures have soared into the 130s F (54.44s C). Even as a place of extremes, Death Valley is not immune to global warming. Seven of its hottest summers have occurred in the past 10 years, according to the National Park Service. And if planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions continue at their current pace, more places could experience its broiling temperatures. Over two days, Westergaard would trek up and down mountain ranges, past sand dunes and salt flats, through quaint towns and vast desertscapes amid temperatures as high as 117 F (47.22 C). He tried to smile throughout, even when he felt miserable. 'It just lifts you up,' he said of smiling so others smile back. At 8 p.m., the first wave of runners take off. Westergaard jogs up a ramp into the pale light of dusk. It's 113 F (45 C), and it feels like a blow dryer to the face. Leap frogging in a van behind him is his cheer squad and support crew – Jennifer Drain, his smiley cousin back for the 17th year, and daughters Meagan, who has attended before, and Madison, a first timer. The crew, who playfully call Westergaard "wiener dog,' are hauling everything he needs: food, ice, water, electrolytes. This heat can kill. Soaring body temperatures can lead to organ failure and strain the heart, especially for people with heart disease, and cause heat stroke. To prevent that they keep him cool. They spray mist on him and pour ice into his hat and a bandana wrapped around his neck. His drinking water is ice cold. A few hours in, Meagan asks her dad if he's peed. 'Long stream," he responded of his amount of urine. Staying hydrated is critical. As he sweats, he's losing liquids that can critically stress kidneys if not replenished. Dehydration can cause organs to fail from lack of blood, oxygen and nutrients, leading to seizures and death. No runners have died doing the competition, but heat-related issues are common, said Megan Dell, the race's medical director. Stomach issues can lead to vomiting and dehydration. Hyponatremia — which happens when your blood's sodium is too low — has sent runners to the hospital. Westergaard has learned to embrace the rollercoaster. One moment he feels like Superman — the next he could be throwing up on the side of the road, questioning if he'll make it. 'You just suck it up, just like in life, and get through the lows, and it always gets better.' The runners dash toward mile 50.8 (81.75 kilometers), the critical cut off point they must get to by 10 a.m. or be eliminated. The sun is peaking over the mountains, casting a warm glow over dune fields. It's 85 F (29.44 C). 'Living the dream, ey?' Westergaard said with a smile, his perky strut now a droopy shuffle. He pours water on his face and arms and munches some watermelon. Madison paces behind him as they crack jokes. 'Get er done! Junior wiener in training!' Meagan yelled. Westergaard makes it to the cut off point before 9 a.m. It's 90 F (32.2 C). Mile 56 (90.12 kilometers): After moving for 14 hours straight, Westergaard rests and eats some avocado toast. 'Great! Let's motor!' he said after 10 minutes sitting on a chair. Miles later, he begins his descent into 'the oven' that is Panamint Valley, usually the hottest part of the race during the hottest part of the day. It's 96 F (35.56 C) and the heat sizzles from above and below. Westergaard runs on the white line on the road because it's cooler. In hotter years, the asphalt got so hot the bottoms of his shoes felt sticky on the ground. Westergaard trains year round to acclimate to the heat. As he gets older, he doesn't tolerate heat as well and has slowed down. His two-hour sauna sessions are now one, and he runs a few times a week instead of daily. 'I'm just out there longer,' he said, 'but still getting it done.' Tony Wolf, kinesiology professor at the University of Georgia, said aging adults generally have reduced heart function compared to younger adults. When combined with the cardiovascular demand of exercise and heat stress, it can cause difficulties. There isn't much research about how the bodies of fit older adults, including competitive athletes, regulate internal temperature. 'There aren't a ton of people in their 60s and older who are doing those kinds of events,' said Wolf. Studies focused on adults before and after a training program found that exercise improved heart function and thermoregulation. That could suggest that the heart and thermoregulation impairments linked to aging are largely mitigated by lifelong fitness, Wolf said. The runners are spread out now, their flashing lights twinkling in the distance. This night is the toughest for Westergaard as sleep deprivation sets in. He zigzags on the road, barely awake. The runners ahead of him look like they're running toward him. In past years, his hallucinations have included people luring him to rest on couches that were actually bushes. Another time, he struck up a conversation with a kid skateboarding by him with a dog. And once, he watched for hours as a guy swung off the edge of the crescent moon, waving down at him. 'It was just clear as day,' Westergaard said of the hallucination. At 3:10 a.m. at mile 98 (157.72 kilometers), he sleeps for 15 minutes under the moonlight. 'No one really quite understands' why he does this, said Madison. At 11:50 a.m. and around mile 123 (197.95 kilometers), Westergaard shuffles through the town of Lone Pine. Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental U.S., soars some 14,500 feet (4,420 meters) into the blue sky. A crowd claps and cheers as he runs by. 'Go Danny, go!' yelled a man. It's 92 F (33.33 C) as he approaches the final 4,750 foot (1,447.8 meters) mountain ascent to the finish line. Westergaard is walking at a snail's pace and says he's falling asleep. But his smile hasn't waned. 'We've come a long way,' Westergaard said, Madison pacing behind and spraying him. 'Long way for a burger!' she responded. They giggle while thinking about the veggie burger they'll buy upon finishing. Then he does, crossing the finish line with his crew at exactly 45 hours and 29 minutes. It was his most special Badwater 135 race by far, he says misty eyed, having Meagan and Madison at his side. ___
San Francisco Chronicle
6 days ago
- Climate
- San Francisco Chronicle
The grueling 135-mile journey of a 66-year-old runner through one of the hottest places on Earth
DEATH VALLEY NATIONAL PARK, Calif. (AP) — When the running gets hard in this desert dubbed 'hell on Earth,' Danny Westergaard tells himself: 'Slow and steady' or 'smooth as butter.' For 18 years, Westergaard, 66, has braved the scorching summer heat of California's Death Valley in an ultramarathon billed as the world's toughest. Last week, 99 runners from across the globe embarked on a grueling 135 mile (217.26 kilometer) competition from the lowest point below sea level of North America to the trailhead of the highest peak in the contiguous U.S. They had 48 hours to do it. Few have completed the competition as many times as Westergaard, though finishing is not a given. 'It's just become like a summer ritual and a family reunion," he said. 'I feel at home when I'm here. It's my tribe.' For the 37th year, the Badwater 135 Ultramarathon challenged athletes to withstand stretches of this dry, searing desert. The race takes place in July, when temperatures have soared into the 130s F (54.44s C). Even as a place of extremes, Death Valley is not immune to global warming. Seven of its hottest summers have occurred in the past 10 years, according to the National Park Service. And if planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions continue at their current pace, more places could experience its broiling temperatures. Over two days, Westergaard would trek up and down mountain ranges, past sand dunes and salt flats, through quaint towns and vast desertscapes amid temperatures as high as 117 F (47.22 C). He tried to smile throughout, even when he felt miserable. 'It just lifts you up,' he said of smiling so others smile back. First night: The race begins At 8 p.m., the first wave of runners take off. Westergaard jogs up a ramp into the pale light of dusk. It's 113 F (45 C), and it feels like a blow dryer to the face. Leap frogging in a van behind him is his cheer squad and support crew – Jennifer Drain, his smiley cousin back for the 17th year, and daughters Meagan, who has attended before, and Madison, a first timer. The crew, who playfully call Westergaard "wiener dog,' are hauling everything he needs: food, ice, water, electrolytes. This heat can kill. Soaring body temperatures can lead to organ failure and strain the heart, especially for people with heart disease, and cause heat stroke. To prevent that they keep him cool. They spray mist on him and pour ice into his hat and a bandana wrapped around his neck. His drinking water is ice cold. A few hours in, Meagan asks her dad if he's peed. 'Long stream," he responded of his amount of urine. Staying hydrated is critical. As he sweats, he's losing liquids that can critically stress kidneys if not replenished. Dehydration can cause organs to fail from lack of blood, oxygen and nutrients, leading to seizures and death. No runners have died doing the competition, but heat-related issues are common, said Megan Dell, the race's medical director. Stomach issues can lead to vomiting and dehydration. Hyponatremia — which happens when your blood's sodium is too low — has sent runners to the hospital. Westergaard has learned to embrace the rollercoaster. One moment he feels like Superman — the next he could be throwing up on the side of the road, questioning if he'll make it. 'You just suck it up, just like in life, and get through the lows, and it always gets better.' The next day: Running through 'the oven' The runners dash toward mile 50.8 (81.75 kilometers), the critical cut off point they must get to by 10 a.m. or be eliminated. The sun is peaking over the mountains, casting a warm glow over dune fields. It's 85 F (29.44 C). 'Living the dream, ey?' Westergaard said with a smile, his perky strut now a droopy shuffle. He pours water on his face and arms and munches some watermelon. Madison paces behind him as they crack jokes. 'Get er done! Junior wiener in training!' Meagan yelled. Westergaard makes it to the cut off point before 9 a.m. It's 90 F (32.2 C). Mile 56 (90.12 kilometers): After moving for 14 hours straight, Westergaard rests and eats some avocado toast. 'Great! Let's motor!' he said after 10 minutes sitting on a chair. Miles later, he begins his descent into 'the oven' that is Panamint Valley, usually the hottest part of the race during the hottest part of the day. It's 96 F (35.56 C) and the heat sizzles from above and below. Westergaard runs on the white line on the road because it's cooler. In hotter years, the asphalt got so hot the bottoms of his shoes felt sticky on the ground. Westergaard trains year round to acclimate to the heat. As he gets older, he doesn't tolerate heat as well and has slowed down. His two-hour sauna sessions are now one, and he runs a few times a week instead of daily. 'I'm just out there longer,' he said, 'but still getting it done.' Tony Wolf, kinesiology professor at the University of Georgia, said aging adults generally have reduced heart function compared to younger adults. When combined with the cardiovascular demand of exercise and heat stress, it can cause difficulties. There isn't much research about how the bodies of fit older adults, including competitive athletes, regulate internal temperature. 'There aren't a ton of people in their 60s and older who are doing those kinds of events,' said Wolf. Studies focused on adults before and after a training program found that exercise improved heart function and thermoregulation. That could suggest that the heart and thermoregulation impairments linked to aging are largely mitigated by lifelong fitness, Wolf said. Second night: Sleepy hallucinations The runners are spread out now, their flashing lights twinkling in the distance. This night is the toughest for Westergaard as sleep deprivation sets in. He zigzags on the road, barely awake. The runners ahead of him look like they're running toward him. In past years, his hallucinations have included people luring him to rest on couches that were actually bushes. Another time, he struck up a conversation with a kid skateboarding by him with a dog. And once, he watched for hours as a guy swung off the edge of the crescent moon, waving down at him. 'It was just clear as day,' Westergaard said of the hallucination. At 3:10 a.m. at mile 98 (157.72 kilometers), he sleeps for 15 minutes under the moonlight. 'No one really quite understands' why he does this, said Madison. Final day: The push toward the finish At 11:50 a.m. and around mile 123 (197.95 kilometers), Westergaard shuffles through the town of Lone Pine. Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental U.S., soars some 14,500 feet (4,420 meters) into the blue sky. A crowd claps and cheers as he runs by. 'Go Danny, go!' yelled a man. It's 92 F (33.33 C) as he approaches the final 4,750 foot (1,447.8 meters) mountain ascent to the finish line. Westergaard is walking at a snail's pace and says he's falling asleep. But his smile hasn't waned. 'We've come a long way,' Westergaard said, Madison pacing behind and spraying him. 'Long way for a burger!' she responded. They giggle while thinking about the veggie burger they'll buy upon finishing. Then he does, crossing the finish line with his crew at exactly 45 hours and 29 minutes. It was his most special Badwater 135 race by far, he says misty eyed, having Meagan and Madison at his side. ___
