197 Miles Later

The 2010 Hood to Coast is in the books and Team Amazing Awaits proudly left the beach—some limping, some yawning, most doing both—knowing they set a new team record!  27 hours, 46 minutes, finishing 374th overall.

The picturesque scene at the Timberline Lodge at base of Mount Hood provided a fitting start for the race and it was all downhill from there! While there were 1000 teams—12,000 people—in the race, not all teams start at the same time and so there’s ample room on the mountainside. Start times span across a 12-hour period, beginning at 6:30am; our team’s punishment began at 11. After the traditional team photo with the Mt Hood backdrop, Jeano started things off for Team AA with a 5-mile steep descent, followed by another similar leg ran by Tasha—later dubbed “Puker.”  Puker then handed the wristban off to her boyfriend, Darin—later dubbed “The Puker Cleaner-Upper” who handed off to Chris, who relayed to this writer who gladly passed on to Courtney, a man more manly than his name projects.

Not one mile into my 6.08 mile section I came upon a Canadian woman who looked an awful lot like a random runner I’d met at about mile 5 of last May’s 56-mile Comrades marathon in South Africa. As I passed her and had that thought, she said, “Is that you, Paul? It’s Cathy from Comrades!” The moment “Is” crossed her lips I knew it was her. I ran along side her for a brief spell and made the expected small talk about how cool it was to cross paths on the other side of the planet at another amazing event. She then told me to stop talking and start running…

The finish of my first leg ended with a 1.5 mile uphill push which I truly enjoyed pushing, “killing” as many competitors as I could before handing off to Courtney. Other than the blister on the very bottom of Stumpy that I imagined might suck later in the race, I was happy with the effort which took approximately 43 minutes (the time keeping system lacks exactness) or just over seven-minute miles.

After Courtney’s leg, Van 1’s duties were on hold while the other half dozen team members comprising Van 2 did their thing. Meanwhile, we were treated to showers and a fine dinner at Jeano’s athletic club in downtown Portland (I had the grilled salmon and mud pie/espresso desert!), near the second van transition, pictured here.
The crowd at the van transition erupted as Van 2’s closing runner, above-knee amputee Sandy Dukat, came around the corner.

Sandy handed off to Jeano before that half of the team headed out for food and a rest. Had Jeano had the good fortune of starting ten seconds earlier, two hundred yards later she wouldn’t have been at the front end of 150 other runners awaiting the passing of a boat under a Willamette River drawbridge! The stall lasted six minutes which I’m sure seemed like 30 to those stuck there.  (Jeano second run marked the beginning of darkness and, fittingly, her third and final leg, 12 runners later, marked the dawn of a new day.)

After we all had our second run, Van 2 took over at around 2am and we drove directly to the next van transition at an open field where the organizers had roped off a couple large rectangles for athletes to throw down their sleeping bags. These areas are then awashed in 10,000 mega watt spot lights to add to the sleep challenge—although they say the lights are to save athletes from getting run over by sleepy van drivers as has happened in the past.

I was rudely awakened in my 67th minute of sleep when Van 2’s recon man let it be known they had arrived. Jeano was off and running and we were soon packed up and on the road again.

Perhaps it was the dinner, the stop-n-starting of the van experience, or both, that caused Tasha’s innards to disagree with her, but in any case her anxiety rose as Jeano approached the exchange. She was already having trouble keeping things from exiting both designated in-n-out orifices and I was told later that my comment to her, “If you pass out or puke or crap yourself, just shake it off—or wipe it off,” which I yelled from across the street among many fellow runners, brought her nary an ounce of confidence.  A mile later she earned the Puker moniker. Perhaps we should have been a bit more respectful as the tough young lady didn’t walk a yard of the rest of her alloted mileage before puking again after handing off the wristlet…

Said wristlet was handed off in proper succession before I grabbed it for my final leg which began with a steep three-mile ascent followed by an equally steep three-mile descent. Given a choice, I’ll take an uphill battle any day; for me downhills are stump pounding/soundside quad pounding punishment. Yes, I often run these backward to lessen the discomfort, but since I was looking to go as fast as possible and since it would be over soon, I did my best to let it fly. In doing so, that blister from section #1 opened up and I was soon reduced to walking backward in search of the fastest, most manageable means of covering the next two miles. Thankfully, the final mile was less steep and at the third reboot I thought to move a sweat-loosened preventive-maintenance laden Tegaderm bandage from one area to loosely cover the pink, moist under layer of derm. This made a 12-minute mile shuffle manageable and I reached the transition with minimal misery.

Courtney then ripped into his final leg and soon Van 1 was headed to the finish line at Seaside beach for bratwurst, beers and bragging rights.  A couple hours later we were informed that our teammates in Van 2 were closing in and it would soon be confirmed that Team Amazing Awaits would set a new team record (this was the third year in a row The Hartford has sponsored this team). Sandy Dukat hobbled along the soft sand toward the finish line on her $30,000 above-knee prosthesis made with Ossur parts at A Step Ahead Prosthetics. The crowd cheered, the teammates put up the high-fives and it was confirmed, once again, that some segments of mankind are incomplete without self-induced suffering.

The Hawk has landed!

Hawk Gordon Martin was born on August 9, 2010.

Most readers just went “Wow! Cool name!” The quick-witted readers just went “Wow! 8/9/10…cool birthday!” Others asked, “What’s with the name?”  To the latter, here’s your answer: you might recall from a past posting that I’d lost my wedding ring attempting to surf in Wai’ki’ki last February. A trip to the jeweler where that ring was purchased five years ago introduced me to the man behind the counter by the name of Hawk. I was immediately impressed with the name and, should it be a boy, felt it would be the perfect complement to the pending child’s brothers, Jack and Luke. As with every other idea I’ve shared with Sharon, she agreed without hesitation.

And “Gordon” because that was his maternal grandfather’s middle name; and “Martin” because that’s somewhat traditional.

Hawk entered the world without any problems and both he and Mom left the hospital in fine physical and emotional condition. Yesterday, at his two week, two day check-up, it was confirmed that he’s is not only perfectly healthy, but has already gained one pound, five ounces!  We’re extremely proud and happy parents, as you might expect.

Jack shows great concern and love for his little brother at all times. He is unquestionably the more emotional and caring of the two older brothers and can often be found at the side of the bassinet checking on him. Luke just does what Jack does because Jack’s doing it!

Hood to Coast

I’m sitting on United Airlines flight 369 from Denver to Portland, delayed a mere hour. Tomorrow I’ll be partaking in a phenomenal event known as the Hood to Coast Relay. It’s the first running relay of it’s kind and the largest relay in the world: teams run 197 miles from Mt Hood to a town called Seaside on the coast of Oregon. Teams are comprised of twelve athletes who each run three, 5-7 mile segments. The fast teams run under 20 hours. The cut off is 31.5 hours.

Our team is sponsored by The Hartford but took the name Team Amazing Awaits in honor of the US Paralympics, whom The Hartford supports with unwavering commitment year after year. This is the third year in a row Hartford employees, brokers and Paralympic athletes field a team. Last year they came in just under their goal time of 30 hours, which we hope to repeat again this year.

Myself and the esteemed Sandy Dukat (of US Adaptive Ski Team fame) will be the USP representatives on this otherwise able-bodied team.

There are 1000 teams and nearly all teams require two large passenger vans to ferry the teammates not currently running along the course: one “active van” drops off and picks up runners at the various relay points while the “passive van” attempts to rest, eat and use the toilet. After 30 hours and three rotations of run clothing, the vans stink, runners stink worse and everyone has bonded for life. (I ran the similar, spin-off Colorado Relay twice in the late 90’s where I garnered a housemate, a short-lived romance, a friendship with Erik Weihenmayer, the man who hadn’t-yet-become-the-first-blind-climber-to-summit-Mt-Everest and an ongoing product sponsor, Rudy Project eye glasses and cycling helmets.)

A race blog is sure to follow on Sunday morning’s flight home.

Golf, a kegorator and a surgery

Last Friday another dream came true. My wife bought me a kegorator for my birthday (two months belated but we’re cool) and my mother-in-law bought the first keg!  We invited the neighbors and a few other friends over to celebrate Hawk’s arrival and enjoy Boulder Brewery’s own hop-heavy Hazed and Infused. We even smoked up the neighborhood with some quality cigars and enjoyed some fine brandy before calling it a night at 1AM!

A couple days later, borne from late-night keg beer discussion, a foursome from the ‘hood played a 18 holes at the killer Indian Peaks municipal course not a quarter mile from our homes. It was my first and last outing of the year and, quite honestly, I played one of my best rounds ever. A 103. Sadly, not one part of that is meant as a joke.

It was the first round of the season due to time constraints in the form of welcomed family commitments, training (ran long every Saturday and Sunday through May preparing for Comrades Marathon) and racing (many weekends throughout the summer).

It was the last round because I’ll be undergoing shoulder surgery this coming Tuesday to repair a partially torn rotator cuff that’s been aching for too long now. Minimum six months recovery will probably do the rest of me some good.

Never dull. Never boring. Never ending. Wouldn’t have it any other way!