The Bourbon Chase

Before I even start this race report let me just say that this is the most fun you will ever have during a race experience. I mean, races are fun, but they're usually over after just a few hours. Imagine spending up to 36 hours in and out of a van with the same seven people while preparing for, or recovering from, three separate legs of a race - it's phenomenal. You really get to know your van-mates (for better or worse) and you get to experience many ranges of emotion throughout this day that add up to one exciting finish at the end. Last year was my first Bourbon Chase and when it was all said and done, I told my team to anticipate me being with them again this year because of the fun I had. After my stellar performance at the 10k last weekend, I had no doubt that I could finish my 4.9, 3.5 and 4.6 mile legs in record time (well.... record time for me at least. I didn't train much at all last year and my finishing times were not great, to say the least). So when I packed up my belongings, met the team out at V02, and saw other van-mates ready to go I started to get pretty pumped up myself. That is, until the news came down from Cap'n Jeff that Budget Car Rentals screwed up our reservation and revealed they had no vans for us. You see, typically when you enter The Bourbon Chase you go ahead and reserve two 14-passenger vans WAY in advance. Like, in March. When Jeff and the two van drivers went to pick them up at 9:00 that morning however, Budget said that they didn't have possession of said vans and basically didn't apologize for not holding up their end of the bargain. Long story short, we were able to at least get one mini-van at that point so that our Van 1 folks could head to the start (I believe they had MAYBE 10-20 minutes to spare after getting signed in), and the search continued for a van for the remainder of us. Alas, a drive to the airport was necessary to pick up the second vehicle, and after a final meet-up at V02, loading up our goodies, and getting as comfortable as we all could in such tight quarters, we headed to Clermont to meet up with our final runner before heading out on the course. I was runner #7 in Van 2, which means that I am the first runner to go off in our van after we meet up at the major exchange points with our other teammates in Van 1 - whom we hardly ever see. After a quick lunch, my van made our way to Maker's Mark Distillery and waited around a bit for runner #6 (Justin) to finish his first leg of the three-leg race. The weather was decent at this point - not too cool and the rain had moved out for a while so I didn't anticipate being hampered by mother nature during my 4.9 mile course. Not long after waiting at the exchange chute, Justin came up the road and I felt myself getting pumped up to go out for this run. After slapping on the bracelet, I hit my "start" button on the Garmin and off I went at approximately 3:40 p.m. Friday afternoon. It took me a while to settle into a good groove, but after a mile or so into the race my body still felt a bit heavy so I took a short walk break around the one-mile mark. I was able to run through mile 2, but just ahead by a quarter of a mile was an excruciatingly painful hill that, although short in distance, was the most steep I have seen in a while. I knew I'd have to walk some, so I went ahead and gave in to the pain - leaning forward a bit to keep my momentum going. My quads were getting sore, and my breathing was labored, but looking around to see that all the other runners around me had also slowed to a walk was validation that I wasn't merely being a wimp - this was one tough cookie. I finally crested Mount Suck and was relieved to see a straight and flat run up ahead. A van from another team pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted some water. The air was humid, I was sweating through my tech-shirt, and I hadn't anticipated needing a fuel belt considering the cooler temperatures, so the offer of liquid refreshment was nothing to pass up. They handed me a liter of Evian and off they drove. Now... I'm not one to complain about free water from kind strangers, but with 2 1/2 more miles to go, I was not looking forward to lugging this liter of water around until the finish. The situation being what it was however, I tucked it under my right arm like a football and off I went, ready to finish this leg once and for all. With less than two miles to go I had already passed up two runners and was feeling pretty proud of myself. My team's Van 1 slowly passed by and I frantically waved my arms like a burn victim trying to put out the flames to get their attention so that they could take the water bottle from me. The gesture seemed to be lost in translation however, as all they did was offer me a shot of whiskey while I forcibly shoved the plastic container into Kevin Byrne's waiting hands. (The shots of whiskey should tell you where the priorities lie in this race, by the way). Off I went with my arms free, and the lack of weight now made me feel that I could run for days (or at least, until the end of this leg). I saw the finishing chute up ahead and began looking around for the next team-mate to take the exchange bracelet off my hands - literally. Imagine my surprise when there was no one around to greet me. Other runners made comments such as, "you don't know where your team is?" "No," I replied, sounding like a kid who had just been abandoned at Kroger. Elise Watkins was across the street and called my name. Ah, finally - a friendly face. She asked who my next runner was and I told her I wasn't sure since my van never discussed it, but none of the faces in the crowd seemed to be my van-mates. After a long five minutes I heard Lori call my name, and she quickly snatched the bracelet from me and took off, pointing me in the direction of our van that had taken a wrong turn and gotten off course. After taking advantage of a little guilt-tripping towards the guys, the van took off again as we headed to meet Lori at the next exchange. A quick baby-wipe-bath in the back of the van, along with some fresh clothes got me feeling nice and refreshed for the 10-hour wait before my next run. Split times for this leg were: 10:05, 10:14, 12:05 (darn hill), 10:48 and unfortunately I will never accurately know what my last .9 was, as I was too worried about finding my van-mates to bother hitting the "stop" button on my watch. The next 4-5 hours consisted of rotating between riding in the van, walking to exchange points, hitting the porta-pots, munching on junk-food, and lots of hilarity going on inside the van with some very interesting discussions. At one point, we met up with Van 1 for the exchange into the start of the second legs of the race, which meant that we now had another 3-4 hours of free time to do what we wanted. By this time it was nearing 9:30 p.m. so we opted for some dinner before heading off to Danville High School for some shut-eye. Given our mini-van situation, Scott, Patrick and Nick opted to sleep inside the school on their sleeping bags as Lori, Kevin, Jeff and I stayed inside the van to get as comfortable as possible. Between the sounds of vans coming and going from the parking lot, snoring and rustling inside the van, as well as conversations taking place outside by various teams, I was happy to have remembered my ipod. And although the sounds of songs ringing softly in my ears wasn't exactly soothing, it was enough of a distraction from the outside noise to at least get SOME sleep during that short period of time. A 1:00 a.m. wake-up call came much too quickly and we were on the road. The rain had moved in again, and it had gotten a tad cooler than it had previously been. This, coupled with an anticipated second-leg start time of 2:00 a.m. in the pitch black did nothing for my motivation. I tried to resign my position as runner #7 while we were still parked at the school, but my van-mates wouldn't allow it - bastards. All was well as I made my way to the start-line however, and again I took off after being handed the elusive bracelet. Heading into the dark night wasn't nearly as creep-tastic as I had remembered the year prior. And with a runner or two just ahead of me, at least I had something to focus on as I made a straight shot to the end, just 3.5 miles ahead. It was hard to see the Garmin with the lack of light, so I was never able to exactly tell how fast or slow I was going at any given time. I anticipated doing my one-mile-run, one-minute-walk intervals, but after the first mile I was feeling so great both mentally and physically that it wasn't long before I passed the runner that I had started out following. A few hills here and there meant that there was SOME walking when I got a bit fatigued, but overall there were a lot of down-hill as well, and with the "One More Mile To Go" sign past me, I was determined to finish strong. Split times for leg #2: 9:10, 10:00, 10:15 and 9:22 for the last .5 mile. (Side note: I do believe the 9:10 mile is my fastest ever, and now that I know that I am capable of these faster times, I'm questioning if and how the Garmin is affecting my pace). The next 10 hours is a bit of a blur. After getting back into the van, I slept off and on for a long-while, and was too exhausted or cold to get out much and cheer on my van-mates who were running through the night. At some point our van finished their second legs and we all decided on Cracker Barrel for breakfast. I don't feel like I engaged much with my teammates during this time as I truly was utterly tired. We made our way back to the van and ended up at the final exchange point before our final legs. We had at least 2-3 hours to kill, so despite the daylight we all settled in for a little nap. Imagine our surprise and frustration however, when two vans decorated like cows pulled up on either side of us blaring their 80's music and chanting in unison, "free sliders!" Damnit - we already have belly's full of grub, we don't want any free sliders, we just want to sleep for the love of God! They weren't going away however, so we all decided to succumb to the unwelcomed audio assault bestowed upon our ears and get up for the remainder of the day. If there is any one thing I would have to complain about this year, it would be this exchange point. For a major exchange point such as this, where the expectation is you will have up to 800 vehicles coming and going throughout the day, not one porta-pot was to be found. Not. One. How in the heck do you expect 4,800 runners to go to the John with no porta-pots around? Alas, the team made our way back into the van to drive a mile and a half up the road to a gas station for a potty break before I was to be seen off on my third and final leg - a 4.6 miler. We made our way back to the exchange point, but took a short detour to the left into a business parking lot rather than make our way back up to the cluster of vans parked 1/2 mile away (another small complaint). Hyped up on Red Bull, a slight chilly wind blowing in, I was more than ready to get this last leg out of the way. It seemed to take Justin a bit longer than expected to make his way to the exchange, but once I saw his lovely moustached face headed my way, I was prepared for my final run. Heading out at 12:40 p.m. I could definitely feel the effects of the prior 24 hours on my body. I was tired. A few small hills came up during that first mile, but I was determined not to walk this early in the race no matter how worn out my body felt. I crossed over a main road and onto a long stretch of back country asphalt that was beautiful to say the least. I ended up passing one slower runner while offering some words of encouragement when my van-mates crept up behind me in the Chrysler, offering their own brand of support through our affectionately-named megaphone, "Mr. Motivation." Mr. Motivation asked me to "moon" him, while simultaneously asking if I needed anything - such as water or Gatorade. The differences in these two requests had me confused, so I just yelled back, "No, I'm good," hoping that would suffice as an answer to both inquiries. It must have because, soon after, my lovely van 2 patrons scurried along to meet me at the finish. Although I was more tired than I'd been all day at this point, I fell into a zone and the miles seemed to tick away. There were a few small hills here and there, and I passed a few folks within the last half of the run, giving me encouragement to keep going strong. Rounding the last turn I could hear the finish line up ahead and I looked forward to not only the end, but also to the fact that I would not have to run anymore for the rest of the day. This was it, my third and final leg: 10:05, 9:51, 10:41, 9:48 and 10:26 for the last .6 mile. I was so pumped to have achieved this great task that I stayed up and alert the remainder of the day, cheering on my van-mates as they went off and then ran in again on their final legs. The air seemed to be getting a bit chillier as the day went on, and I found myself wrapped up in my fleece blanket as our last two runners went out. Jeff was our #12 runner with a little over 4 miles to go on his final leg, which meant the team had little time to make our way to the finish area, find a place to park, and walk near the finish line in time to all run in together. In the meantime, we had received word that Larry Holt, a runner in Van 1, had become ill sometime after their last legs were ran and they had decided to head back to Louisville to turn in their van and call it a day. This meant that just the seven of us in Van 2 would be crossing the official finish line. We waited around a bit longer than expected before spotting Jeff rounding his last corner towards the home stretch. I can only imagine what a sight we were - seven completely exhausted runners decked out in our own brand of comfort clothing (I was still wrapped in the fleece and was sporting a sweet pair of brown crocs at this point), stumbling across the finish to claim our sub-thirty-hour victory. Overall I had a great time. Not only with my van-mates, but also during the legs of my particular runs. I was definitely faster and feeling better both mentally and physically this year than I had last year. My body is definitely tired today, but I'm not nearly as sore as what I had anticipated. It was great running into other athletes who were on opposing teams throughout the day/night, and sharing a lot of laughs as well as frustrations with my own team. We anticipate The Bourbon Chase being two weeks after the Louisville Ironman next year, and if that is the case, I am hoping to sign up once again and make this an annual tradition. As I said, this is the most fun that I have ever had during a racing event, and it would be nice to keep that up for years to come. Next up: Urban Bourbon half-marathon in 2 weeks!