The Barefoot Running Book - Jason Robillard [59]
Jason drove his Honda Element with me riding shotgun and Rich in the back seat with Shelly. While I pulled out my phone to get directions, Jason fired up his GPS. We later discovered both of us had entered different destinations. Jason followed his GPS directions when, at some point, I realized we were heading in the wrong direction. After much confusion we managed to reach the race site. Luckily, we were still early. Because Michael wouldn’t be arriving for at least another hour, we decided to find a bar, grab a bite to eat and have a few beers.
Eventually we ended up at the Dexter Bar, a small pub in the equally-small town of Dexter. Going on the theory that carb-loading is good and beer has carbs, I drank two tall Killian’s to wash down our order of nachos.
After about an hour or two, Michael showed up. We talked awhile to get acquainted, had another beer, and then headed back to Jason’s house. We hung out there for a little while, got hungry, and then headed to the Fenton House restaurant for pizza and breadsticks with parmesan dip where Mark and Stuart joined us. As we talked about the race logistics it occurred to me we really hadn’t done much planning. Stuart eased the building anxiety by asking Michael for his uneaten pizza crust that was sitting on his plate, thus displaying his easy going personality that would pay dividends later when he took over pacing me at six o’clock Sunday morning.
From the restaurant we walked the two blocks back to Jason’s house, stopping along the way to check out Stuart’s massive RV parked behind the restaurant. I had expected something more modest on the order of a large van. We got back to Jason’s house, had a beer, and then crashed around ten o’clock. Exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately.
Race Morning
Three a.m. came early. I needed time to go through my routine, but it was tough. Pulling on some clothes, I walked around Jason’s yard to loosen up. When I returned to the house, Jason was awake so we headed out to get some coffee. Due to superstitions, Jason wanted McDonald’s while I needed Speedway gas station coffee.
At McDonald’s the coffee machine was broken so we decided to return after getting my coffee from Speedway. Once we had our coffee we headed back to Jason’s house where I ate my requisite cream cheese coffee cake and drank a 24-ounce cappuccino. After jumping in the shower, dressing and strapping on my Vibram KSOs, we packed the car and headed out. I was amazingly calm during the trip to the race considering how much a nervous wreck I was the day before. It was during this ride that Rich threw out his now-famous, “anyone can run fifty miles if they train for it” quote which helped calm my nerves. The rest of the trip was uneventful as Shelly and I reviewed our race and aid station strategy.
Once at the start/finish line, we met up with Michael, Mark, and Stuart. The air was a strange combination of cool and humid as if it were about to rain. I thought my choice of attire was well-planned, however my crew couldn’t resist teasing me about the GAP sweatshirt I was wearing, which was a good-luck charm. Every other runner and most of their pacers and crew were wearing official running attire while my clothes appeared to be pulled from the “lost and found.” Perhaps I’m not the snazziest dresser.
We milled about, talked to a few other runners, and then got the call to line up. Rich and I would be starting together, and decided to start near the back of the pack next to a local guy who regularly trained on the trails. While he gave us some good information about the terrain, in my nervousness I forgot everything within seconds. After a few minutes, and some directions from the race director, we were given the signal to start. We slogged through the timing gate, and then headed out over the damp grass. Let