On the Run: Magic Mike, Pappy D, and the Mud Dogs

Our unlikely troop of runners gathered at the Upland Brewery on West 11th Street in Bloomington late yesterday afternoon, ready tackle the annual Red Eye Relay. This event features 104 miles of running, broken into almost two dozen stages shared by up to nine runners in the open division. Our official members were WinD (team captain), Miller, Wes, Rachel, Jessie, Jimmy, and IronBill. Bo and Scott were designated floaters, covering for those unable to complete their segments of the relay.

With two vehicles in SAG, we were able to adequately cover the needs of all our runners. Rules stated we needed to have a trailing vehicle on our runners at all times, and believe me, when it got dark, you needed it. This race winds out of Monroe County into Morgan County, turning south only after reaching as far north as Martinsville. It passes through Brown County State Park, and I don't think I have to tell you what that means - hills!

Jessie and Scott started us out. Scott, the resident elite ultramarathoner he is, was going to run several of the legs with the runners so folks wouldn't have to run alone. This was awfully nice. Wes also contributed several extra legs, though he would later pay a price for it.

Jimmy, Jessie, and I had the most to worry about. Jessie hasn't run much at all this summer, practically nothing in fact. I haven't been much better, and Jimmy no more than me. My weekly mileage is 20-25 miles, purposely limited to allow my hips and calves to heal properly. While it's been an effective way to recover, it is a poor way to train for an all-night relay where you run multiple times with a short time span.

Jessie had no trouble. Jimmy had some hamstring trouble coming in, and aggravated it on his first leg, casting his further participation into doubt. This spelled disaster, because we had a time limit to finish, and WinD's original schedule had been quite aggressive. Under the best of conditions we would be pressed to meet the times. It was far from likely we would meet it now.

We were a little behind when I took the arm band for my first run, but decided, "What the heck!", and set out to make back some time. The segment was short, relatively flat with one longish hill. Scott and Bo were alongside, and with the conversation rolling freely, we flew through it. When we were done, we'd done a great deal to bring the schedule back.

Everyone zipped through their first segments, save Miller, who wouldn't get to run until past midnight, after my second run. We had picked up steam, and we were actually creeping ahead of schedule. Scott had run every leg so far, but when it came time for Miller to run, he took a break.

It was simple; Miller is a killer. He was going to tear it up, and everyone knew it. Muncie had not been the race he wanted. He'd been sick. He was due for a hard effort, and he didn't disappoint. He lit the road with burning heels, kicking up sparks with each powerful stride. And it was a tough one too. Some of the roughest hills of the course were on Miller's path, and he didn't blink.

One by one we started on our next segments, fatigue setting in a bit more with each journey. Good fortune did shine on us in a major way - the temperatures dropped into the lower 60's, making running much easier. That isn't to say we didn't sweat - ask anyone who wore a vest or headlamp after me! But it was manageable.

Staying up all night, driving down gravel roads, eating a variety of snack, exercise, and junk food, listening to the car radio, the snores of sleeping runners in the back seat... it's an experience. Things went surprisingly well, for the most part. We never had anyone lost, thanks to the experienced team members. Still, when sleep runs short and so many people are crammed together in tight spaces, there will always be moments of friction. They came, they passed, and we laughed about them later. Who am I kidding? I'm still laughing about them.

We didn't win, I'm sad to report. We didn't even podium. Who cares? This is an experience race, much the way Boston was this year. It's something any endurance athlete ought to experience once in their careers. I don't know that I will ever do it again (getting too old to stay up all night!), but I'm glad I did it. WinD did a great job organizing us (for all the grief we gave her over the schedule, she actually called it pretty close).

Runner of the night? Had to be Scott. Sixty-two miles run, all at a metronomic rhythm defying logic, machine-like. Runner-up was Miller. He took an impromptu change to schedule and was "gifted" with a hellish 2.5 mile category 1 climb late into the relay. Scott knew the course, and recommended walking. (Word to the wise: if an ultra runner with the pedigree of Scott says walk, walk) Miller ran it, all the way to the thin-air top. Never mind a swarm of bees attacked him on his first run, and he was anesthized with Benedryl, he did it anyway. Lesser humans might have begged off, but not Miller.