My intention all along for 2009 was a team of 12 runners. Yes, we had negotiated the relay in its first year with 10 runners, but I knew I was not the only one who had faded in my 4th and final leg. A team of 12 would open more options and give relief to those who could run a better race if only required to cover 3 legs. Also, I was determined to make Dorian and Fred Ramirez, regulars on the team which annually runs Beach to Bay, members of the TIR team. One of my sad memories of last year was
seeing Dorian on the sidelines at the finish line. I was thankful she had come along to drive and I know that's really like a roster spot on the team, but for her to get no medal and no official shirt was something which needed to be mended. Thankfully, Dorian and Fred were available and willing to join us. I was also thrilled that everyone else from 2008 seemed unanimous in wanting to run with the team again. Ten runners from 2008 plus 2 new runners adds up to 12, doesn't it? Using old math, that's so, but our reality is that runners can't always control their schedules.
The first hurdle was making sure the 2009 weekend was free from any conflict with the Mid-Texas Symphony. Whew! It was! But once Jonathon got settled into med school in Houston there were questions of his availablity. Anyone who has ever known a doctor-to-be knows they are used and abused. They give their lives over to the program and hope there's still time to eat and sleep. Thankfully, Jon learned the ropes and we cleared that hurdle. But the next hurdle proved more troublesome since Maeve had a conflict with a track meet she was supposed to help supervise. It didn't look good, and this of course meant we would not only lose a runner, but our second fastest runner. What to do? We all searched high and low and ne'er a runner did we find. Thankfully, Maeve continued to indicate she was interested, if only something would break. Finally, I had to erase Maeve from our roster after she gave the news that she couldn't skip the track meet.
While all this calculating and recalculating the leg assignments went on, team members sat patiently. Brenda, not quite so patient, was anxious to finalize her van assignments and schedules. "Tomorrow is my drop dead date," she said. I didn't even know what a "drop dead date" was but I guessed it wasn't negotiable. With one last ace up my sleeve, I called Maeve and asked if she would be willing to meet us on the course, around the mid-point, and from there run three legs. "Yes," she said, and I was elated. Back to the drawing board on leg assignments and also back to wondering, in the back of my mind, what sort of time we might be able to pull off. The official worksheet predicted a team average pace of 9:44, but I knew better. I saved our best speed for the final 5 legs, knowing that couldn't hurt.
Creative leg assignments, I called them, and they made for somewhat creative van pickup and drop-off assignments, but Brenda soldiered through and got everything ironed out. UPS dropped off Brenda's "care package" on Thursday. I knew we were in for something special when I opened the box and one of her specially made reflector vests (more like little billboards) was flashing away. Cool, I thought, and that's the reaction I got Friday night when I showed them off to the early arriving members of the team. Likewise, eyes lit up with the unveiling of an official team shirt, a designing and printing collaboration with my wife Jane. Although all that glitters is not gold, the gold leaf overlay on the letter "S" of Symphony impressed us all.
Let me be the first to tell you we are a smart bunch of people. Professionals all, we are teachers, chemists, lawyers, engineers, radio producers, a doctor-to-be. Yet, as we met Friday evening to go over a few logistics, it was suggested that we synchronize our watches.
"Good idea," everyone said as they looked to see what time they had. Of course, no two watches agreed.
"I'm in radio," I proclaimed. "My watch is right."
"OK. What time do you have?" asked Alan.
"9:03."
Everyone studied their watches and then, in unison, said "we'll figure it out." No one in this brainy bunch could remember how to reset their watches!
Oh how we could have used Brenda on race morning! We got there fine. Steve, Brian and Denise were waiting for us as we pulled up into the stadium parking lot. We finished loading the vans, and then caught the shuttle bus to the starting line. It sure would have been nice to have someone look after our odds and ends as the team ran its prologue mile plus before catapulting Alan off on leg 1 of our adventure. No time to linger now. Alan is fast and we've got to have Dorian there at the handoff to leg 2. We hop on the shuttle and then we are on the road, the beginnings of a marathon of 40 legs, 203 miles, a choreography of constant motion.
Feet flew. It was apparent from the crowds at the early leg exchanges that many more runners were on the course than last year. In fact, there turned out to be 158 teams, as opposed to 112 in 2008. Jay Hillscher, the co-director with his wife Joy, had told me it was about evenly balanced between returning teams from last year and new teams. Great! I think everyone participating in the TIR wishes the best of success for this race. The logistics are well managed, which is not to say perfect, but few details go untended. This year I had a chance to see how the race unfolds, how the volunteers are sometimes just barely ahead of the lead runners. Twice my van 1 runners leapfrogged ahead of the leading edge of the race and we could watch the gathering storm of runners as first one, then another, and finally a steady stream flowed through the little towns and the countryside. It's really quite amazing.
At one point our van 1 runners drove to our next active handoff point, the start of leg 22, and found ourselves ahead of everyone, including the volunteers. We settled into a brief rest period as the only van parked next to a grain elevator and woke a bit later to bright spotlights and the first runners passing through. This was before midnight when we once again became the active team of runners.
By the middle of Saturday afternoon we had begun to settle into a pace. Each team van stopped in Moulton for sandwiches at my sister Kay's house. (Thank you, Kay.) Alarm began to creep in when Jonathon started complaining of sharp pains in his knee. At this point, he had only run the first of his 4 legs. We began to make contingency plans. Thankfully, Jon bounced back each time he was called on and he ran his heart out.
Meanwhile, Brenda was sitting at home in Garland waiting for progress reports. I knew she wouldn't resist analyzing data as it was reported to her and comparing it to last year. After all, she would say, "I AM an analyst!" Early reports were that we were slightly behind our 2008 pace. No need for alarm, I thought. Let's run a strategic race, something which had been on my mind when I worked out the leg assignments. I plotted for maximizing the strengths of each runner. A few hours later, Brenda reported we were 23 minutes ahead of 2008. We all smiled. Later Brenda called and said her calculation had been wrong, that we were actually still running behind last year's pace. We still smiled. Analytical minds began to calculate and everyone had a different idea of what the ultimate result might be. Of course, Jon was still nursing a painful knee. I was battling a persistent cold. The team was a mixture of runners who had trained and those who had trained harder.
At leg 35 the strategy of leg assignments began to come into full play. I was determined I would run the 35th leg better than I had the year before (when I meandered off course for about 10 minutes). Also, the benefit of requiring only three legs from certain runners was paying off. We were fading less than last year. Yet the last 4 legs were for the strongest runners on the team and each of them would be on a 4th leg. Would they fade? And would the heat of the afternoon play a role? Maeve (remember her?) had linked up with van 2 late Saturday night in time to run 3 legs, beginning with 20. Her leg assignments were compressed. I hoped this wouldn't diminish her performance too dramatically. The heat, it turned out, beat her up on leg 36, but I don't think anyone else on the team could have run it with her speed and determination. She handed off to Dorian. Like her husband Fred, Dorian is a triathlete. Need I say more about her ability to deliver the goods, and deliver she did, handing off under a sun drenched sky to Alan.
We all know Alan as an excellent runner. He also did a great job, along with his wife Marie, of driving van 2 throughout the race.
Every time I saw him, he always had the van 2 notebook under his arm and a pen ready to record a runner's finishing time. This time, it was just Alan, his cap worn with the bill to the back, as is his custom, and a bunch of bottled up competiveness. This was a challenging leg, over 6 miles long, but made for Alan and his strength of competitive pace. None of us who saw the end of Alan's leg 38 will forget the sprint as he turned into the final 40 yards. He had been running stride for stride with a runner from another team. As they approached the end they asked the question of each other: "What'cha got left?" The competitive sprint was absolutely spine-tingling.
Liz gave her all to leg 39, as I knew she would, for she is as determined a runner as any I know. Liz handed off to Jon and the anchor leg was in motion. The buzz at this handoff point was that Governor Rick Perry was only minutes behind. No time to tarry, and not really much interest on our part in lingering around to see Perry come in. We knew Jonathon would give his all and it would be everything we could manage to get to the finish line ahead of him. The traffic was backed up as we all leaned forward to try to push along the momentum of the runners and tourists driving onto the grounds of the San Jacinto Monument. We were all on the edge of exhaustion, but the finish line kept us alert to the reality that all our work and planning had paid off. We would shatter last year's finish of 31 hours 19 minutes.
Jonathon crossed the finish line at 30 hours 40 minutes and a few seconds. Van 1 was barely there in time to greet him. Triumphantly, our proud team of 12 ran the final epilogue of about a third of a mile to our reward of showy finisher medals and pizza. And there we were met by Holly's husband Ed, who graciously agreed to take a series of team pictures. Once again, we wore with pride our new team shirts, proclaiming Mid-Texas Symphony. In designing the front of the shirt I had written last year's finish time as a reminder of what we needed to beat. AND WE DID IT! Already there's talk of breaking 30 hours next year. Now let's see.....train, train, train.
Best moments for me this year: In the middle of the night, running out leg 25, a car approached me, slowed, and someone leaned out the window asking "What race is this?" I replied "Texas Independence Relay" but was determined to keep my pace, keep running. The Brazos River bridge loomed ahead. The carload of driver and 3 passengers began backing up, becoming somewhat beligerant about wanting to know about the race. I refused to stop to talk to them. At that time, a support van for another team came along. "Is that car with you?" they asked, sensing my dilemna. "No," I replied. Thanks to the members of that team, who intervened on my behalf and disarmed what might have been an unpleasant experience.
Being welcomed to Borden, population 22, by one of those 22 residents. Their hospitality was as real as it gets.
The energy of the race, which is a product of the organization and the spirit of those who are running, cheering and supporting the efforts of teammates and other teams. This is truly a remarkable experience.
Finally, the message I got from Holly after the race, telling me of her year battling thyroid cancer. She had just gotten back from the doctor, who told her she was cancer-free. Now that one made me cry with joy.
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