Ultra teammate Amber Christofferson looking fresh and carefree as she sets off on the Relays first leg

from Cannon Mountain.

Photo by Joe Shanahan

A Relay, Really
by Caitlin Hurley

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and there I was waiting in the wings to join anyone who would have me. And so I became a very undertrained member of a rather motley Ultra relay crew. I would be running over 35 miles of the race, my average weekly mileage this summer, in three heartbreaking legs. One of them in the dead of night. With possible bear or moose or other antlered animals lurking around those unseen corners. As race day approached my doubts grew exponentially, especially as team emails ping-ponged back and forth about physical therapy appointments, sore ligaments, busted ankles, and questions as to the vans handicap accessibility. What had I gotten myself into? The RTB course is broken up into 36 legs, and runners participate as teams of 4-12, typically rotating through the team 3-6 times to cover the course. This year, 490 teams (over 5,750 runners) completed the race in 20-36 hours. Each team has a van (or two), which becomes their functional, foul-smelling home during the race. And to answer the question I have been asked again and again, no, the van doesnt putt along at 7-miles-an-hour at the pace of its runner. Generally, the van stops at the next transition area or an agreed-upon mile to offer encouragement, water, Gu, whatever is needed.

Second leg, 14 miles around 12:15-2:00 am:

Its 1:00 am and I am running up an unseen hill. Im focused only on the five feet in front of me illuminated by my weak headlamp, mesmerized by the soft glow of pale light. It is so pitch black on this backcountry New Hampshire road that the only way I can tell if the relentless hills are up or down, if my next turn is left or right, is by the swaying light of a runner ahead of me or the occasional van headlights making the world bright for a few glorious moments. But I find its ok not to know. You have to run it anyway, so why do you have to see every bump and turn ahead, wheres the fun in that? Ill admit it, I was skeptical. I thought my relay running days were behind me, along with feathered hair, leg warmers and dancing to Ice Ice Baby. But I caved. When asked to fill in last minute for an Ultra team in the 15th annual New Balance New Hampshire Reach the Beach (RTB) Relay, my interest was piqued. At first I was flattered, but then I realized that it was kind of like being the last kid left teamless in elementary school P.E.no one wanted me enough to choose me first,

First leg, 2:30 pm, pouring rain:

My first leg (Legs 7 and 8 of the race; as an Ultra team we ran two legs in a row) went from Attitash through Echo Lake and into Conway. As I waited for my teammate Jane Mellors to hand me the slap bracelet baton in the drenching rain, my mind was abuzz with nervous anticipation. I was so used to pushing my limits in races that having to rein it in, knowing that I wasnt fully trained and had indeed never run close to 37 miles in a 24-hour period, made me uneasy. Would I be able to run this like a typical long run, as my teammate Chris LaPorte had suggested? Its more about survival than a race, hed counseled in a pre-race email. But it was hard to wrap my head around the challenge of running three long legs (13.8, 14, 9) on an increasingly shattered body. My best shot was to do the least damage possible early on. My legs felt so fresh at the outset that I savored the moment knowing it was the last time Id have a spring in my step for a while. What I didnt know yet was that part of the fun of the relay is the kill countcounting how many

e r e Wh Were At
November
November 2 Run for All Ages 5K, Wakefield, MA November 9 Edaville Rail Run, Carver, MA November 17 Myles Standish Marathon/Relay, Plymouth, MA 36
New England Runner, November/Decembver 2013

New England Runner rambles all over the New England States and beyond, so this is Where Were At over the next few months. Well have our lenses poised and pens ready!

December
December 6 Winter Lights 5K, Plymouth, MA December 8 Winter Classic 5K, Cambridge, MA

Ultra teammate Emily Wood Mitchell starting her first leg at the quaint and welcoming Brass Heart Inn in Chocorua, NH.

The cold waters of White Lake State Park in Tamworth, NH, supplied welcome therapy for Relay enthusiasts.
Photo by Caitlin Hurley

people you pass and how many pass you. This was familiar territory for me, since my parents have a house in the area. Passing by Dianas Bath, bucolic West Side Road and quaint Conway center, my first leg finished in Ham Ice Arena. Entering the ice-cold skating rink in soaking wet clothing to change was almost as challenging as the race itself. My second leg, as I mentioned, began after midnight. It was lonely but serene, dreamlike to the point that I felt like I was running in my sleep. Oh yeah, and it was around Gunstock Mountain. I made the mistake of looking at my route on the drive up and saw a tiny picture of a skier on the map where I had to traverse. To add excitement to the race (as if there wasnt enough already), the RTB organizers threw in some Wildcard transition areas, meaning that you had about three miles to hand the bracelet off to the teams next runner. Thus I had no idea where my team was or when I would see them, but I had faith, though dwindling. After about 14 nearly-blind miles I heard my name being called by my teammate, Joe Shanahan. I handed Joe the bracelet and waited for the van to pick me upwhere was the van? I checked my phone, no service of course. I had a few moments of helpless terror but slowly our van pulled around the corner and I flashed my phone and headlamp wildly at them lest they pass me by. This race messes with your mind I tell you.

you on as they pass by in their van, knowing that theyll be waiting at the transition area, that they are relying on you. Sure, some of them were training for marathons, others for ultras, others were just hoping not to get more injured, but being able to run a relay with people of all different abilities, people who may not be training partners in life because our pace and goals are so different, was what made this race so special. Id highly recommend running a race like this, but do yourself NR a favor and book that handicap van.

Third leg, Saturday around 1:00 pm:

My legs were shredded from the roller coaster hills Id climbed and descended (almost as bad) feeling in one moment itd been a week ago and in another about 30 minutes ago. My body had no problems remembering the damage Id done and I now understood the calls for a handicap van. A quick pre-leg jog to the port-a-potty did nothing to alleviate my fear: I could hardly move, let alone run. This was not going to be pretty. But when my teammate handed me the wand, a surge of adrenalin hit and I knew that while I still had nine long miles left, I had already run almost 28 and I could do it. In truth it was van time that was the most surprising aspect of the race. Going in, I only knew one of my teammates. We were all connected in a six-degrees-of-separation way, our only true commonality being the simple fact that we liked to run and were slightly crazy on some level to want to do this. By the end of the race, just over 24 hours after I met most of my teammates, they were like family. They had seen me at my weakest, most exposed, and I them, and they helped me out of those dark corners with their cheers and water offerings in unexpected places, their unwavering support and encouragement, their laughter. Running is usually such a lonely sport, and while I love that aspect of it, there is something so heartening about having a team cheering

Hartford Marathon HOLE TK

New England Runner, MNovember/December 2013

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