As alluded to in an earlier post, I recently ran the Ragnar Relay through Maryland and Washington DC. The race consisted of thirty six separate running legs, covered over a day and a half by a team of 12 runners. The twelve racers would stay in the same order, so that each person could get as much rest as possible in between their individual legs. This was a huge event, with check points set up where each leg ended and the next began. There must have been at least 100 teams or so that competed. My team wasn't necessarily trying to win the competition. Rather, I think we were just hoping to finish without giving up.
Our team chose the name of "We Wish We Were Kenyan." We were anything but. We rented two large 15-passenger vans, which proved to be just enough space for two groups of six runners each. The first van would arrive at the start of the race, and the 6 of us would run in order until trading off with van 2 when it came time for runner 7.
Anywho, I was selected to be runner #1. This meant that I had to be ready to set out on foot from Cumberland, MD at 8:30 a.m. sharp on a friday morning. Unfortunately, Cumberland is about 150 miles from DC, and so we had to wake up before the crack of dawn to drive out there in time for the start. (Van 2 had the luxury of waiting until noon to meet up, then drive out to the spot where runner 7 would take over). My morning began at 4 a.m., when I woke up to get some food and water in me, then take the last shower I would have for about 36 hours. I had to drive from my place in McLean, VA to our meeting place in Silver Spring, MD. I had planned it taking me 30 minutes to get there. It did. Too bad I left 10 minutes later than I had hoped, because I arrived at our meeting place at 5:10. But it was all good, because our vans didn't get there until 5:15.
We loaded up right away, and I was all prepared to lay down on one of the van benches and get a few hours of sleep before the race. This was not to be, as I discovered that only 3 of the 6 of us were eligible to drive the van (due to age and license requirements). That meant that I had to drive us halfway to Cumberland. And so I did. Driving a large van is not my most favorite thing at 6 a.m., and I was grateful when I was finally relieved of my duties. The final 45 minutes or so I spent listening to rock music on my wife's iPod, which she conveniently let me borrow for the trip. (I don't like listening to music while running, but I use music to get me psyched up before a big run. I'm weird like that.)
This year's race started in a different location than last year's, and so we got a little mixed up and arrived at the starting line about 5 minutes before the scheduled 8:30 start. I had to run over to the check-in table and get my running number. Then I had to use the restroom and stretch my legs. It turns out that 5 minutes wasn't enough time to get all of this done. My stretching was slightly compromised as a result. Since I opted not to stretch by the starting line, I was not around to wave "Hi" to the crowd when our team name was announced. I distinctly remember the announcer saying: "And the next team is team We Wish We Were Kenyan. Do we have the runner for team We Wish We Were Kenyan? No? Well....maybe we should change your name to we wish you were here. (crowd laughter)" I heard the announcer count down to the beginning of the race right as I was in the middle of stretching near some picnic tables, about 100 yards from the starting line. So as the announcer shouted "Go!" I started running from where I had been stretching, through the starting line, and up to the back of the pack.
The first leg was completely flat. We pretty much followed a dirt path that ran right along a small creek which (I believe) eventually turns into/feeds into the Potomac River. The weather was great for running, approximately 60 degrees and slightly overcast. Because everyone was together at the start, I ran slightly faster than I would have otherwise. Being bunched together made me want to stay with the middle of the pack. I probably averaged about 8:45 for each of the miles in my 6.2 mile run. I was fresh, I was excited, and after the pack started to break up I made it my goal to gradually overtake the runner in front of me, at which point I would repeat my strategy with the next runner in my field of vision. This worked for a while, until a pack of 3 runners came from out of nowhere and zipped by me. With my ego sufficiently deflated, I resigned myself to sticking with a good solid pace and ignored all efforts to overtake the runners in front of me.
The major frustration that I encountered on this run was that it was impossible for me to figure out how far I had gone. While training in my neighborhood, it was very easy to know how far I had gone, and how far I had left to go. I have virtually all of the streets around me memorized through countless miles of jogging. But on an unmarked trail with almost no room for spectators, it became really hard to guage how far I had gone and how far I had left. The scenery didn't really change at all, and so I had no way of determining my distance based upon landmarks that I had memorized from the map in our van. Usually I like to readjust my pace at about the halfway mark, just to make sure I am maximizing my energy on the run. Since that wasn't possible, I just kept going at a steady pace and decided to dig in when I could finally hear the crowds cheering at the runner exchange point. This happened when I was about a quarter mile from the end. So my team got to see me racing up to the exchange, unaware that I had been just steadily plodding along until I was slightly out of their visual range.
Pass the baton (slap bracelet in this case) to Steve, a.k.a. the only guy on our team with any hope of ever qualifying for the Boston Marathon. My running time for 6.2 miles: about 54 minutes. Not too shabby.
I took about 10 minutes to unwind after my first run, going through my post-race routine: catch my breath, let pulse return to normal, walk around a bit, remove sweaty+smelly shirt, pour water over my head and torso, wipe off water/sweat with a towel, put on clean shirt for next portion of the race, then drink lots of water and gatorade. After that, we got in the van and headed to the next checkpoint. I ate one of the chicken salad sandwiches that I had brought with me.
A lot of stuff happened over the next few hours. We drove to every checkpoint and traded off runners, most of them running at least 5 miles. Runner 5 (Jana) had a killer 8.something mile run that basically went up a 1,000 foot hill the whole way, which kind of wiped her out due to some injuries she had sustained a few weeks prior to the race. So some of our other runners opted to jump out and run some of her leg for her. Way to go, Team! We eventually traded off with Van 2 at about 4 or so in the afternoon, after which I drove us to a quaint little diner for some grub. No salad for Brian. I had a steak and cheese sandwich with some fries. Good stuff, and the last real meal I would eat until my final leg was over. We camped out at the end of leg 12 and waited for several hours for the other van to complete their legs. I finally began my 2nd run sometime around 9 p.m.
This one was a quick 4.1 mile run. The first half went gradually uphill, and the second half went gradually downhill. I was psyched and ready to go after spending several hours in a giant parking lot listening to music and stretching my legs, so I practically took off in a sprint when I was handed our team's slap bracelet. It was nice and dark, and I was running along two main roads in some small town in central Maryland. There weren't too many runners around me on my run, as the teams had gradually gotten more and more spread out throughout the day. I pushed myself as hard as I could, and only two things annoyed me during my run: some kids who sat in the shadows on their front lawn and shouted at me as I ran by (startling the heck out of me!), and the lack of a shoulder on the road during the last mile or so. I probably completed my run in about 32 minutes flat, which was really pushing it for me. Hand the baton to Steve again. Repeat personal post-race procedures.
We cycled our runners through until we traded off with van 2 at some large protestant church. Free hot chocolate was enjoyed by many. I drove us to another church about 30 miles away, where we set up camp and waited for van 2 to complete their second legs. We arrived at around 2 a.m. I think everyone else in my van was able to get a few hours of sleep. I dozed in and out for about 3 hours, but never really got any deep sleep from my reclined front seat in the van. At about 5 a.m. I decided to get out and walk around a bit, stretch my legs, and brush my teeth. The temperature had dropped more than expected, and was hovering right around 55 degrees or so. I opted to run my last leg in a long sleeve T so that I wouldn't be too cold. Since this was still a night run, I had to wear a reflective vest and headlight for safety. Unfortunately, these items were with van 2, so I had to find them and get the gear before I could start my next leg. I was still putting on my vest when our runner came into the checkpoint, which means we lost about 20 seconds as I prepped myself for my final leg. When I finally set out, it was cold, dark, and there were no visible runners up ahead of me. This meant that I would have to trust that the path would be clearly marked so that I wouldn't make a wrong turn and end up in the middle of nowhere.
Since my final leg was 7.9 miles, I opted to take a slow and steady pace to make sure that I didn't get tired out before the end. On paper, the run was shown to have a series of rolling hills. In reality, the hills were much longer and taller than I had expected. After running through a mile of small town and another mile of deserted corn fields (which all of the girls had agreed were creepy and scary, and which I found to be calm and serene), I came to a 6 miles stretch of highway where the hills just seemed to go on and on. It was hard for me to guage distance after a while, because it was just one big hill after another. Up and down, up and down. There were very few runners around me at this point, and the dawn was slowly breaking off in the east. I enjoyed the calm serenity of it all, although it felt like my run just kept going on forever. About a mile from the end I passed Carl, a runner from another team consisting of members of my former single's congregation. I don't think he recognized me as I went by. About a half mile from the end, I came up over the crest of the penultimate hill, and saw the checkpoint up ahead. At this point I decided to really dig in, since this would be my last chance to leave my mark on the race. After handing off the baton to Steve, I motioned to my team that I was done. And I truly was. I was tired, sweaty, and hungry. At this point, I probably didn't care to even greet my team at the finish line, and would have been content to just head home and shower/eat/sleep. My 7.9 mile race time was approximately 75 minutes.
Steve had a 9 mile run, which we labeled as "the run that went forever." Ok, maybe that's just what I labeled it. We continued on, with the remaining runners each covering less than 5 miles for their final legs. The last runner in our van finished at about 10:30, at which point we drove back to our cars and each went our separate ways. I headed home to McLean for a shower and Chipotle lunch feast (chicken fajita burrito + hot sauce, tomatoes, sour cream, corn, cheese, and lettuce = yum). I knew that if I fell asleep I wouldn't make it down to RFK stadium in time for our team's finish, so I watched a little TV and rested my legs on the couch. In the late afternoon I took the metro down to the stadium, where tents and music and food was set up by the finish line. I was fortunate that I brough my umbrella, as it started to drizzle as I waited out there for my team to finally show up.
And they did. We crossed the finish line as a group sometime after 5 p.m.







