Blue Ridge Relay or: How the Judges Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Spaceballs

Hey kids,

Just to give you fair warning, this will be a long entry. Then again, the Blue Ridge Relay is a long race. Let's just dig right in...

For those who are unfamiliar with the race, it is a 208-mile shit storm of steeply undulating mountain roads that starts in Grayson Highlands State Park in southwestern Virginia and then winds its way through the Blue Ridge Mountains before dumping its achy, sleep-deprived sojourners into the quirky, beer-infused mountain oasis that is Asheville, North Carolina. It is divided into 36 segments (legs) ranging from two to ten miles in length and ranging in difficulty from "easy" to "mountain goat hard" (BRR's words, not mine). Ideally, each team has 12 people who each run three legs, and these runners are divided into two vans that essentially leapfrog each other six legs at a time. During each van's "non-active" time, the runners in that van can sleep, get food, and so forth. BRR is hands-down my favorite race. This was my sixth time running it, and I have now officially run half of the legs. I recently decided that, eventually, when I have run all of the legs, I will get a BRR-inspired tattoo that Jeannine will hopefully design. Our team, "Ludicrous Speed," has a Spaceballs theme, and we always go all-out decorating the vans. Each year, our van receives great adoration from many of the other runners and other people we encounter on our journey. We never seem to receive this adoration from the judges of the van decorating competition, however, as historically, none of them has ever seen Spaceballs (and thus, presumably, are under 21, over 60, and/or hate freedom).

Anyway, Ludicrous Speed is a Richmond-based team that I have run with since I was an undergrad at Virginia Commonwealth University, even though I now live in Philadelphia. This year, largely thanks to Richmonders dropping out at the last minute, there were three of us joining from Pennsylvania. There was me, my friend Valerie, who works in the lab next to mine at Temple University's medical campus and with whom I did a triathlon relay this past June (and not to mention engaged in many an impassioned discussion about Doctor Who and Downton Abbey), and her friend from back home (York, PA) Ashley (now my friend as well, of course). Thursday morning before the race, the three of us carpooled in my tiny white Chevy Aveo (his name is Stay Puft) to meet with the rest of the team in Richmond, and then venture to southwest Virginia in the vans. We departed Richmond at around 3:30 Thursday afternoon drove nonstop to our dinner location, Macado's in Salem, VA. Despite the number of home brewers/beer enthusiasts among us, we all managed to abstain from alcohol and have sensible-ish pre-race meals. After another hour-and-a-half or so on the road, we arrived at our hotel in Marion, VA (incidentally a half hour from my home town of Abingdon, and the town where I played my last high school football game). We all got to bed at a decent hour and were pretty well-rested for our 10:30 start time. I got up at 5:00 and got a couple of miles in since it would be mid-to-late afternoon when I would run my first leg, and I had become so accustomed to running twice a day over the last month and a half or so. We began the van decorating at 7:30 and were on the road to Grayson Highlands by 8:30. We went though the usual t-shirt pick-up and took the traditional Start line photo.

Left to right: Ashley, Jaclyn, Valerie, Carrie, Amber, Mike, Carena, Glenn, Karen, Jimbo, Kevin, me

Since the vans leapfrog each other, and since the race is over 200 damn miles long, I won't go into much detail for all of the legs, unless I feel it is warranted. My apologies to Glenn, Amber, Carrie, and Karen, as I pretty much never got to see you run, and thus have no observations to report. But ass-kicking o'plenty, I'm sure!

THE RACE STARTS HERE:

Mike started us off with a fun (I would know, as I ran it the last two years) predominantly downhill four mile leg. He handed off to The Glenn, and this was basically the last I saw of Van 1 until Jimbo (the last runner from their van) handed off the slap bracelet (seriously) to Jaclyn (the first runner from our van) at Bald Mountain Baptist Church, which is known mainly for having an awesome swing set. Jaclyn easily powered through her 5.3-mile leg and handed off to me. I had a 4.6-mile "easy" leg which had a couple of steep-ish hills, and I ended up feeling pretty good averaging 5:13/mile. I handed off to Carena, who, bless her, was comfortable enough just holding out her wrist and letting me slap the bracelet onto it rather than letting me hand it to her. She ran her mostly flat leg along the river (not sure which river) with no complications (except that it was getting hot, and that leg can get pretty monotonous). She handed off to Valerie, who was dealt a rough hand for her first ever BRR leg. Eight-plus miles of giant hills plus a major highway crossing were sure to break her in properly. She had to hand off to Kevin, and fortunately, thanks to his stretching, she knew exactly where to go.

"KEVIN! WHICH WAY IS THE EXCHANGE ZONE???"

His leg took him onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, where vans are not allowed to roam, so we had to take an alternate route and meet him at the exchange zone where he hands off to Ashley, who then began her own, um, fateful journey onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. 

I will now briefly summarize the gross negligence on behalf of whoever was in charge of race logistics: Basically, each team is required to submit a predicted pace based on each runner's 10K road race times. Apparently, out of 158 teams, even though we submitted the same pace that we have submitted every year thus far, this pace now placed us among the top teams (faster teams start later, and we did NOT start amongst our peers, but started out way over our head; this year, our peers were all shifted to earlier times, but not us, for reasons we don't understand). Anyway, by the end of Kevin's leg/beginning of Ashley's leg, we were in or near last place, even though we were at the same point in the race that we always have been in the past for that time of day. So basically, we decided that rather than run the entire remainder of the course by ourselves (since the "race officials" were already picking up course markers even though Ashley had not made it to those turns yet), we decided that we would just skip a few legs and accept the commensurate time penalty so that we would not have to get a dozen people lost in the fucking mountains alone after dark. Fortunately, it ended up being the right decision. All but three of us ran our night legs. I ran my "7.6 miles-very hard" leg, which had some pretty tough uphill, and quite a bit of downhill, and I ended up averaging 6:12/mi. Not my best work, but I caught three other teams, so I'll take it. Once we finally handed off to Van 1 for the last time, we did our best to make a bee-line for the exchange zone where they would hand back off to us. Those of us who had run BRR before knew that this was the exchange zone with churches that included both pancake breakfasts and sanctuaries that allow runners to sleep in silence on cushioned pews. While I was driving there, I was so sleep-deprived that it was taking all of the energy I had to not go cross-eyed, and my trusty navigator, Kevin, was slipping in and out of consciousness. 

Upon finally arriving at the church, I parked the van, got out without looking at anyone, and simply said, "I'm going into the church to sleep for two hours."   

And I did just that. 

And it was exactly what I needed. After that two hours of sleep on that pew, I felt GREAT. I awoke to find Kevin chowing down on the pancake breakfast,and the rest of my van unconscious. Phone service was sporadic throughout the journey, and especially so during this phase of the relay. We were in a deep damned valley. Fortunately, a text or two from Van 1 got through, and we knew, give or take a half hour, when Jaclyn would need to be ready for her "mountain goat hard" leg. It is basically 1.5 miles of level ground, wherein one gets to anticipate the incipient five miles of relentless uphill switchbacks. This is actually the beginning of the most fun part of the relay (not for Jaclyn yet, of course). Van 2 is on its third run and finishing up the relay, while Van 1 is completely finished and is now, for the first time, accompanying Van 2, cheering the whole way. While my van semi-followed Jaclyn up the mountain (both she and the police did not want us or any other van to stop and observe her running), we embarked on my self-appointed "the van's final run" tradition: I pulled up Michael Jackson on the iPod and blasted it loud. It is always amazing to observe how many people toiling up a mountain have their outlook turned around and find a second wind via "Billie Jean." Anyway, I was the next runner, so we had to get up the mountain so that I could suit up and run down. Jaclyn, not surprisingly, though she may tell you otherwise, looked perfectly relaxed and composed as she completed the final segment of her colossal ascent. It was now time for me to run my leg. Now, my leg (the first half goes down to -7%, and the second half is -2% on average) is basically 9.5 miles of having the same relationship with gravity that one might have with dessert on Thanksgiving or with Jagermeister on, well, any godforsaken occasion where one might drink Jagermeister. 

"Gravity, you were kind of a dick when I wanted to play basketball in middle school, but I guess  we're cool now."

The people I know in the past who have run this leg have started out loving it, and by the end have hated running downhill so much that they swear it off forever (or at least, like, a week or so- it's a geography-sensitive thing).  Fortunately for me, I had recently done a SHITLOAD of downhill running, and ended up being even more ready than I realized to handle the descent. I planned on running the leg in 57 minutes due to the inevitable wear and tear on my legs, so I was stunned to find myself at the "exchange zone" sign ten minutes earlier than I had planned. Over the 9.5 miles of ever-decreasing levels of descent, I ended up passing a total of 22 other teams and finishing in 47:30, averaging exactly 5:00/mile. I was surprised at the time, and even more surprised at how good I felt at the end (and perhaps EVEN MORE surprised that after all of that, Carena still stuck her wrist out and trusted me to accurately slap the bracelet onto it). After that, I happily reported my time and overtakings to the team, then stuck my feet in the nearby creek for a couple of minutes, and it felt incredible. We then had to hop back into the van to meet Carena, who was currently traversing BRR's one other "mountain goat hard" leg. She, just like Jaclyn, made it look easy, and came through the exchange zone with that now-quite-familiar "energized, but so relieved to be finished" look. It was now Valerie's turn for her final BRR leg. The difficulty with this leg is typically not with the geography, but more with the temperature. During this leg, it is always hot, and this year was no exception. Unsurprisingly, Valerie handled the heat without complication, and it was time to once again hand off to Kevin, who was by now quite accustomed to his reflective vest (a requirement for running on the Parkway). He crushed his insanely difficult ascent, and then, at long last, it was time to hand off to Ashley for the last time, so that she could begin her triumphant descent into Asheville. Both vans had to, during her leg, find our ways into Asheville, find parking, and be there at the Finish line. We were able to do this with time to spare (despite my pissing off a cop by driving into the police station parking lot in the wrong direction).  We were then able to position ourselves at the final straightaway to cross the Finish line with her. 

HERE ENDETH THE RACE

Not pictured: alibi we would have had to concoct if there were fewer than 12 people in this photograph. 

From this point on, it is all about the party. Our tradition in years past has been to get a few beers somewhere, check into the hotel and shower, then get dinner at Mellow Mushroom, where we then swap war stories over pizzas and pitchers of local beer. This year was no exception. For the immediate post-race beer, we actually went to the Mellow Mushroom as well, where a few people ordered some appetizers, and all of us simply enjoyed being finished. I snacked on a couple of appetizers, which was the first time I had had non-granola bar/bagel-type food in over a day. I also had tasty tasty local beers which made me feel especially good considering my teetotaling, 452-mile August, in which I lost both tolerance and weight. It was at this post-race celebration that I learned that I had inspired the other van to engage in one of my favorite post-run rituals: SHOWER BEER. For those unfamiliar, it's exactly what it sounds like. You drink a beer while you're in the shower. It's just... just magical. Last year, upon checking into the hotel, I went directly to the hotel bar and got a beer for myself and a beer for Jeannine (who unfortunately couldn't make it this year), and I told the team that I was going to drink it in the shower. Upon hearing that this year so many other people were adopting the practice, Jeannine and I decided via text that I am aspiring to be the Carl Sagan of shower beer.  

This makes my annual pilgrimage that much more meaningful. 

After checking into the hotel, showering, and reconvening at the hotel bar, we headed back to the Mellow Mushroom for dinner and pitchers. It was, as it is every year, the perfect way to end the difficult journey. We left Mellow Mushroom, headed back to the hotel, and some of us had a "Blue Ridge Relay: After Hours" bar session before going to our rooms to sleep HARD. The next day, we drove our still-decorated vans back to Richmond (we always get funny looks on the highway), and then Valerie, Ashley, and I got back into Stay Puft and made our way back to PA. Fortunately, the weather, both for driving and for running, was PERFECT all weekend long, and traffic was even great both ways. 

EPILOGUE

I'm not sure about everyone else, but Valerie and I were both in the fortunate position wherein we could take the following Monday off of work. I got to sleep in and then hit the trails for about an hour and half with, for the first time in a month and a half, no training goal. I got to just run because I felt like running (Forrest Gump jokes will be greeted with contempt). We found out the following week, that this year, the first year in which not a single member of our team attended the awards ceremony, that finally, FINALLY, we had won the van decorating contest. SWEET, SWEET VALIDATION! As for my running now, I have recently started working with a coach, Mike McKeeman, the winner of the 2012 Philadelphia Marathon, and 2-time Olympic Trials qualifier. As such, I am forgoing the trail series in the park behind my apartment, and my next race will be the Dogfish Dash on September 29th, followed by the Delaware Distance Classic 15K on October 6th. The relay, and preparation for the relay, have acted well to further my preparation for the Blue Ridge Marathon. 

Speaking of which (segue high-five!), for those interested in gaining free entry into the 2014 Blue Ridge Marathon, I will be hosting a giveaway on this blog in the near future. So stay tuned... because free shit is cool. 

My next entry will most likely be my report of the Dogfish Dash. For those in the Philly area, this weather is perfect, so if you can manage it, drink beer outdoors.

Have fun,

Jeff