May 19, 2012
Corpus Christi, TX
Team Name-"Keeping Up with the Joneses"
Every year I write about Beach to Bay being a crappy race. I'll recapitulate: terrible course that's open to traffic; the legs are spread out over a 26-mile point-to-point course; the 100 percent certainty that at least one team member will pull out; and saliently, the dangerously hot and humid weather conditions.
However, like every year, it's a fantastic event! Beach to Bay is the largest marathon relay in the country—almost 2,500 teams and 15,000 leg runners. Although it attracts the best runners in Texas, its greatness is that it motivates people to participate who aren't regular runners. Well, "motivate" might not be precisely accurate. Most people are coerced by a family member, friend, or co-worker who does run: "Come on—we need you! We have five team members, but we need you to be the sixth." Of course, team captains tell everyone that.
Regardless of how team members are recruited, most participants love the challenge and camaraderie that Beach to Bay provides. That's why I strongly encourage my girls to participate. My ten-year-old, Juliet, has run it twice. Cate, eight years old, was now ready. However, having them both run was going to be a logistics problem if we were on three different teams. Just getting myself to the start of a leg and then to the finish/post-event party is a pain. There was no way Jennifer and I could also simultaneously shuttle the girls through the course.
There was only one solution—a family team. If Jennifer, Juliet, Cate, and I concatenated our race legs in a series, then the girls could start and finish next to at least one parent. However, Beach to Bay is a six-runner relay. I asked John, my longtime friend and running buddy, if he and his 13-year-old daughter Caitlyn would come down from Houston and round out our family team. John and I are practically brothers in that one of us is smarter and better looking, and the other one won't admit it.
Everything was set, but then with the 100 percent certitude that occurs every year, a team member had to pull out. Jennifer had a legitimate excuse. While playing tennis, she completely ruptured the ACL in her left knee. We modified the plan so that she would become the designated driver and shuttle our team runners from leg to leg. I would run both my leg and Jennifer's.
However, I wanted to run with my girls, so I decided to also do their legs. But John and I haven't run together in a while, so I added his. Since John would also run Caitlyn's leg with her, I might as well do all six of them.
As usual, the final race logistics made the Marshall Plan seem like a pizza delivery by comparison. Though significantly more convoluted, in a nutshell, the final plan was set:
Leg #1 (3.41 miles)-Cate* and David
Leg #2 (4.67 miles)-Juliet* and David
Leg #3 (4.36 miles)-David*
Leg #4 (4.69 miles)-David* and John
Leg #5 (4.20 miles)-John* and David
Leg #6 (4.89 miles)-Caitlyn,* John, and David
*The officially designated runner carrying the race baton
The first level of crappiness began at 4:30 a.m. Everyone had to wake up so we could get to the start before it became too crowded. We arrived at the beach about an hour later. Parking was already a problem, but eventually we found a spot about half a mile from the staging area. Cate and I walked down to the start line about 15 minutes to gun, and everyone else walked Juliet to the second-leg handoff area.
The start was on a narrow road packed with 2,500 runners. Cate and I queued a 100 yards behind the line. When the 7:00 a.m. start time arrived—nothing. Five minutes passed, then ten, followed by 15. We heard later that a shuttle bus was delayed. Again, this race is a logistics pain in the butt. But finally the horn sounded and Cate and I started to run.
Well, "run" might not be precisely accurate because that's when the second level of crappiness began. Of the 15,000 participants, only about 1,000 are what you would consider runners. The others try their best, which means shuffling along at slightly faster than a walking pace. Cate has learned that you have to politely, but assertively, ask other runners to let you by. However, the course was also packed with people not only walking, but unable to hear us because they were literally browsing their iPhone music selections. When my girls get blocked in by one of these "runners," I unapologetically stiff arm them out of the way.
The crappiness increased when Cate and I turned onto the beach. There is no delineated course path, and runners have to fend for themselves to find a section that's not mushy soft or covered in seaweed. As Cate and I made our way to the turnaround, we were running a bit of a zigzag. We would see a narrow section of packed sand next to the water and run down. Two thousand other runners would do the same and create a jam. Cate and I would head back toward the dunes to find a runnable section, but eventually a herd would converge again. After 15 minutes of back and forth, I told Cate, "Forget about time. Just find a rhythm." The rhythm ending up being 12:30 minutes/mile due to the awful conditions.
However, there was one fun aspect of the first leg. Cate, being only eight, is a Beach to Bay rarity. I'll bet there were less than half a dozen girls her age in the whole event. But with a mile to go, she was passing adults left and right. As we came up behind them, I would call out, "Wow, Cate—you're doing great. Look, you're passing this man," or "Awesome, Cate, you're just in second grade and you're gonna beat these women." Actually, most runners appreciate her effort and offer encouragement rather than take offense.
Cate's pace was much slower than her usual effort, but she didn't walk once the entire 3.4 miles. We reached the second-leg handoff area where John, Caitlyn, and Jennifer were waiting with Juliet. They gave Cate an enthusiastic cheer.
Juliet grabbed the baton and was off. Her running has improved this year and she is a solid sub-10:00 minutes/mile runner. Since we reached her chute surrounded by slower runners, she began moving up through the pack fast. Almost immediately I tried to slow her down because I knew the fourth level of crappiness was about to begin.
I understand that at least one lane of traffic must be open. You can't close down all of Padre Island; however, the one auto lane becomes traffic jammed. The runners have to breathe the exhaust-polluted air. Additionally, the heat is intensified by the hundreds of cars creeping along just five feet from the runners' lane. Two and a half miles in, I could see Juliet was overheating. It was now 9:30, and the sun was beating down and there was a total lack of breeze. We were running north-west with a very light and undetectable south-east wind at our backs.
I told Juliet that it was perfectly fine to stop and walk until she caught her breath. Two years ago I ran the same leg for a Fleet Feet competitive team, and I still had to stop and catch my breath twice. However, Juliet was determined to stay with it. I started to become concerned she might experience the greatest level of race crappiness, heat stroke. It's a real danger; even elite runners have blacked out on this course. Juliet finally pulled up, and I handed her the water bottle I was carrying.
She then impressed me with her course awareness. She looked up and said, "Let's run to that second light pole down the road." Once there we walked for a minute and then she picked another mark, saying, "Let's make it to that big white sign." For the next two miles she mostly ran, but occasionally walked, until we reached the bridge. With a final push, we ran under the bridge and into the chute. Juliet finished with a solid 10:30 minutes/mile average pace. She handed me the baton, but before I could start the third leg, we had to deal with the final logistics problem—getting Juliet back to Jennifer.
We originally planned for Jennifer to park underneath the bridge. However, at packet pickup, a race official was highly critical of the idea. "If there's a traffic problem near the bridge, you could be stuck for hours. It's best to use a shuttle bus." We changed our plans, and instead Jennifer waited at the bus return depot. I walked Juliet over to the queue where other runners were waiting for the buses to return. The problem was we didn't know if it would be five minutes or 20. Juliet said she would be all right, so I handed her my iPhone to keep in contact with Jennifer and then asked two other runners to help her on the shuttle. I started the third leg.
The leg was uneventful. I ran over the bridge and reached the first mile on a 7:40 minutes/min pace. I settled into a comfortable stride knowing I had 18 miles remaining. My mile splits didn't deviate more than a second the entire leg. However, one thought did concern me—Caitlyn. The heat was already terrible and the sun was intense. It would be another hour and a half before Caitlyn would start our final leg. I was concerned about dangerous running conditions.
Jennifer had already dropped John off at the fourth leg, and he was waiting for me as I came through the chute. I ran straight through and he joined in stride with me. However, our plan fell apart almost immediately due to a communication mishap. The week before, I told John that I would run an 8:15 pace through the base and then hand off to him at the start of leg five just outside the north access gate. Since he would be fresher than I would be at that point, he could pick up the pace to get to Caitlyn faster. This worked for John since he was going to run a half dozen 1,200 meter repeats two days before the race. This was his first taper day in preparation for a full marathon he's doing next week. He agreed to cruise a steady pace with me through the naval base.
The night before the race, we confirmed the plans, but then John said, "I'll run with you for a couple of miles and then you can hand off to me. I'll pick it up through the base so we can get it to Caitlyn as fast as possible." His suggestion had nothing to do with our team time. He just wanted to get Caitlyn off the course before the midday heat. So as we began the fourth leg, I assumed the plan was to push as fast as we could. I dropped the pace to 7:15 minutes/miles and lengthened my stride.
About a mile into the base, John was ten yards behind me. I again eased back to a 7:40 minutes/mile pace. He stayed right behind me. The heat was wearing on me and I looked straight ahead, trying to remain focused. When I finally reached the leg five chute, I stopped and turned to give the baton to John, but he wasn't there. I had unknowingly pulled away, and he was a quarter mile back. Two minutes later he came into the handoff area, and I reached forward to hand him the baton. He said, "You'll have to carry it. Go! I'll catch up to ya'll later."
I immediately started toward the sixth leg. About a mile from the base, I started to fall apart. I had gone the last six miles without any water, assuming John would be pushing through the fifth leg. I pulled up for a minute to cool down. I ran another mile, then walked a minute. I did this two more times before reaching Jennifer and Caitlyn, who were waiting at the final handoff point. I came into the chute. "John? Where's John?" Jennifer asked. I told them he said to start running and he would catch us. Unfortunately, I didn't have much running left in me. I was badly dehydrated. Jennifer said, "You look awful! Do you want to quit here?"
I looked at Caitlyn and said, "Let's run for a mile and see how it goes from there." She didn't flinch and replied, "Let's go." We fell into stride and ran a solid first mile, but I just couldn't breathe. Caitlyn was also overheated, and we both stopped and walked. The next four miles were tough. Neither of us was able to run more than a quarter to half a mile without pulling up. Nevertheless, Caitlyn stayed positive the entire leg and didn't once think of quitting. She endured the course quarter mile by quarter mile for an hour. With a mile remaining, we heard, "Caitlyn! David!" John had caught us. The timing was perfect. Over the last quarter mile, John and Caitlyn joined hands and ran to the finish as hundreds of spectators cheered for them.
Our team finished in a clock time of 4:27:01, placing us 715 out of 2,455 teams.
Well, the race was total crap! Terrible course, awful logistics, and dangerously hot weather. However, everyone on our team did a super job individually, and as a team we placed in the top 30 percent. WHAT A GREAT EVENT!
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