In the mid 80’s when I started cycling, I had a client and friend who had a summer home on a mountain near the scenic Route 100 area. Bob Glickman and his brother Joel, ran a family plastics business, Rodon Products. A few years later Joel invented K’nex and the family business exploded, but Bob was always down to earth. He was an experienced cyclist and invited me to bring my bike up for a few days of cycling. I was living in New Jersey at the time and New Jersey is flat. Vermont is not.

The first morning of cycling we started down Route 100 which flows gracefully alongside Amherst Lake. We took a left turn and the road went straight up. I did my best, but about halfway up I was beat, got off the bike and just laid down on the road to catch my breath. I eventually made it up the hill and then completed the balance of the ride. I was given the appropriate treatment over dinner.

The following year we returned, but I had worked hard. Perhaps my competitive streak was showing. I challenged Bob to do the hill again and he laughed. He wasn’t laughing as I spun up the hill with him struggling to keep up. It was my turn over dinner to return the treatment.

I haven’t spent much time in Vermont in many years and when I decided to extend the tour through the ITU Championships, I considered adding the Green Mountain Relay as one of the events. I could share this event with some of my friends. It didn’t take too long to get four others to join the team but it took a while to find our sixth man. The race director had an area on the website for team matching. Fortunately, for us, we connected with an experienced runner, Shaun, who fit right in.

There are many long distance relays, the most famous is the Hood-to-Coast race. That race has a thousand teams and would have been interesting but much more difficult to get organized. The Green Mountain Relay could be driven to with an easy day’s ride and the costs were not prohibitive.  In most relays of this sort, teams of twelve, supported by two vans cover the approximately 200 miles to be run in twenty-four to thirty hours. Each runner runs three legs of about five to six miles each, with about seven to eight hours between legs. For this race, they offered a number of ultra-marathon options. The 6x6 option fit my plans and those of my teammates. In this format, each of the six runners runs six legs with about three to four hours between legs. Because of the way the course lays out, a runner could do between twenty-eight and forty miles. Some of the legs were easy and some were hard. Of course “easy” and “hard” are relative and not too many folks would think that any of this was “easy”. It shouldn’t be too difficult to realize that in this mode there wouldn’t be much opportunity for sleep. During the weeks before the race we exchanged e-mail messages to determine the running order. After negotiating (and a little bit of Captain’s prerogative)  we settled on our order:

1. 1.Brian Kunz (50’s, endodontist, dragon boat captain),  28.9 miles, 4,065’ of climbing and descending, responsible for van and medical kit.
   

2. 2.Shaun Dean (50’s, business consultant, former triathlon promoter and impersonator), 32.1 miles, 4,113’ of climbing and descending, responsible for fruits (that did turn out very appropriate).
   

3. 3.Dan East (40’s, computer geek, former Southern Baptist and one time Ironman), 35.6 miles, 5,420’ of climbing and descending, responsible for paper and cleaning products.
   

4. 4.Tom O’Donnell, Sr. [T1] (50’s, lawyer, Galloway coach), 31.8 miles, 4,657’ of climbing and descending, responsible for food, drinks and a cooler.
   

5. 5.Tom O’Donnell, Jr. [T2] (30’s, lawyer, Blackberry enthusiast and willing hill climber), 40.4 miles, 7,330’ of climbing and descending, responsible for communications with the outside world and the midnight refueling.
   

6. 6.Ira Yermish [IraMan] (60’s, professional bum, Captain of this motley crew), 29.8 miles, 5,208’ of climbing and descending, responsible for everything else and providing the statistical “plan”.

   

   
   

Now you have met the Valley Forge Ultra Nuts, it is time to start the race.

The balance of the team packed into Brian’s overstuffed minivan to begin what would be a remarkable adventure. For the next twenty-nine hours the van was home with shifting bags, shifting personnel and wafting odors. Now if you think I’m going to describe every one of the thirty-six legs, you can breath a sigh of relief. I’m too old to remember them.

Brian was concerned about a recurring hamstring issue and with our “permission” took it easy and got us four minutes behind schedule when he arrived at the first exchange area. Not to worry, Shaun would recover them easily in the second leg. It was amazing how quickly the team latched on to my leg “projections” as a point of competition. It was very difficult to figure out where we stood, so this band of Type A’s competed against my plan. Along the way it provided a good point of focus to keep the mind from thinking about how long this damn race was.

The team hopped to the second exchange and waited patiently for Shaun. When he was five minutes late we began to worry. Sure enough he missed a turn and instead of catching up to the plan we lost another ten minutes. After that, everyone on the team was careful to check their route BEFORE heading out on their leg.

Most of the participants in this race were young people out for an “adventure”. It seemed that there were more women than men participants and they were all young enough to be our children. Of course, a car-load of dirty-old-men have that kind of selective focus. We remarked how great it was to see young folks out running as if it mattered. It does. We were treated to a number of great sights, especially from a particular member of the Disco Express Team. She provided more than enough opportunities for inappropriate remarks.

As one can see from the course profile at the top of this posting, the course got harder and harder as it progressed. The race laid out into three phases: the first day, overnight and the second day. We had magnificent weather for the first twelve legs. Each of us enjoyed the scenery, be it mountains or other runners. Each of us ran to the best of his abilities with little or no pain during this first segment. Leg 12 was my second leg and the first to really start the second phase as darkness approached. For some of us, this was the first real opportunity to run at night with lights on unknown roads. There were concerns but the first few legs went well.

As we moved through legs 15 and 16 we climbed more hills and found that the cooler was empty. T2 was having trouble with the communicator and we weren’t sure about the rendezvous with the resupply team. Finally, word got through and just before I was to start my third leg down a long dark road, they arrived with the fluids and the pasta and one other “treat”. Earlier, I had requested that they boil up some potatoes with a little butter and salt. I think most of the team thought I was a little nuts, but they learned. Each of us had settled into a cycle of running our leg, eating right after the leg, trying to get rest between legs and little sugar before the next leg. We consumed our fruit, bagels, PB&J, pretzels, chips, Balance Bars, energy drinks and whatever. But this kind of effort really can’t be planned. We’ve all experienced bouts of stomach upset in marathons. It looked like Shaun was suffering the most. Brian had some of the meds to help, but the real cure came from my suggestion. You should have seen the relieved expression on Shaun’s face as the potatoes did their thing, though it would take a while for him to be completely “cured”.

The night passed slowly. This was a tough part of the race as we tired and couldn’t see where we were. When possible we attempted to catch a nap. For me, trying to keep everything in order and timed, this wasn’t possible. I didn’t get a minute’s sleep during the race, though I was able to find some moments to de-stress. From my Ironman experiences I knew that sleep in this kind of event isn’t all that important as long as there were enough sleep in the days before the race. There would be more than enough time to recover those lost hours of sleep.

After one of my nighttime legs I almost lost it when one of my teammates hit the wrong button on the stopwatch and we lost the total time. It took me a little time to realize that it really didn’t matter. Since everything was timed from the 10:00 AM start, it was easy to back in the missing numbers. Dan almost lost it when he couldn’t find his blue shorts and then just before he was about to run realized that he didn’t have his race number. “It doesn’t matter,” I yelled and off he went into the dark, clouding up night.

Finally, just before my fourth leg, the end of the second phase of the race, the sky lightened and we could put away the lights, vests and blinkers. After I completed my leg we were two-thirds of the way through the race. The light at the end of the tunnel was approaching. We hoped it wasn’t an oncoming train. Actually, it was oncoming rain. But before that, Brian sprinted through a short but tricky leg. Elvis joined the team for a “cameo” leg. Dan signaled his appreciation of an oncoming hill which was harder than expected with a friendly gesture as we passed him. T1 just kept running his Galloway with perfect serenity and some well-earned inspiration as he passed a couple of young people. And T2 kept climbing those hills with a smile on his face. Ah, to be young and strong.

We had been very lucky with the weather but the forecast had scattered thunderstorms. The pattern was a southerly wind with lots of humidity which clashes with cool winds aloft as they run up and down mountains to generate the popcorn storms. The fifth set of legs went smoothly as each of the runners did his best to keep us close to schedule, within a few minutes of the plan. It really was quite amazing that after twenty-four hours of running we were within two minutes of my projection.

As I was ready to start my fifth leg Sunday morning, there were hints of sunlight, so I sprayed on some suntan lotion and donned the shades. Right. After taking the wristband from T2 after his great hill climb, I ran for 100 yards before it started drizzling. It was warm and the rain felt good. On this leg I had about a mile of rolling hills before a major climb followed by a steep descent. As I hit the base of the long climb the clouds opened up. Of course the wind and rain were directly in my face and the water flowing down the road made sloshing up the hill all the more difficult. At least that’s the excuse I gave for not making my leg projection. Fortunately, there were more dry socks and shoes in my gear bag.

Over the next few legs, Brian let loose with a fantastic run along a busy highway and a lightning-filled downpour. Shaun continued in the storm and refused to take the umbrella from Dan at the next exchange as the lightning continued to crack. With Dan out on the course and the van filled with all kinds of great smells from wet clothes and such, the sun finally broke which meant that it was going to be warm and humid. At least the rain had stopped. T1 and T2 ran well but the times were down as the bodies tired. As each man finished his final legs the sighs of completion were evident. I had the last leg as Captain and it was listed as “Hard”. Just what a tired body needs. In the sun and humidity I started up the last 1.7 mile hill. I kept my heart-rate pace vowing to let it all go once I got over the top. About halfway up the hill the team passed me in the van and said something that I couldn’t comprehend in my depleted state. When I got to the top of the hill, my Garmin said I was doing 12 minute miles. Yuck. That was far too slow. I got over the peak, took a drink and took off down the long descent to the finish.

I grabbed a drink and lay on the ground as we discovered that there was some mixup in the scoring and we would be deprived of our medals, at least for the day. No matter. We completed the adventure with an average pace of 8:46/mile. Our target was 8:42. Not bad. As it turned out we finished second of the four 6x6 relay teams.

It was time to get a little food in me and then we regrouped as a team for the last time for the weekend, dispensing t-shirts, emptying the van, dumping ice and exchanging good wishes. The O’Donnells would be going off in their direction with family. Dan, Brian and I would be staying at a local motel for the evening. Shaun came back to our motel for a while for a great conversation by the pool as he waited for his wife to arrive from upstate Vermont. The shower felt good and we even persuaded Brian to join us for a steak and beer in downtown Bennington.

Monday morning, we awoke to the standard low-level motel “free” breakfast and then hopped in the van for the easy drive home and a really good night’s sleep.

When I got home there was an e-mail message from my brother Neal. He wrote, “Besides the race itself, from my experience with sharing vans with people for an extended period of time, you are either on your way with five ‘for life’ friends or the next time you speak to any of them will be too soon.” I’m already starting to plan for the Wild West Relay in August 2009.  I know who will be on the contact list.

This was a special event, one of the great highlights of the “Tour”. I couldn’t have done it (duh) without my teammates.

Thanks Brian, for the use of the van, your medical support and wisdom, great stories and for keeping that hamstring in order for 29 miles.

Thanks Shaun, for connecting with us, providing some great competitive spark, and getting Elvis to join the team.

Thanks Dan, for bringing those paper towels and toilet paper, those great moments of panic as the outfits didn’t coordinate in the dark and for being my best running buddy.

Thanks Tom, Sr., for always wandering around so that we had to track you down before heading on the next leg and for always having a positive and calming approach.

And Thanks, Tom, Jr., for coordinating the refreshments and keeping the communications channels open to the rest of the world, and of course, climbing all of those damn hills with a smile on your face.

Thanks to all of my teammates for making this possible and putting up with all of my nonsense.

I’ve invited my teammates to post comments at the end of this blog entry. All I ask is they keep it reasonably civil. Not likely.