KC Road Trip: Personal Recollections of a Runner’s Edge of the Rockies First Road Trip
And My 2nd Marathon
Getting There:
Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About What Happened On the Bus
From Denver to Rim Rock Farm
Come on! Where is Holly Robinson! She called to say she was stuck in traffic? At 6:30 in the morning? All 27 of us had arrived at the Sam’s Club parking lot on the morning of October 18th to board the pink and purple pimped out charter bus called Barney. But a plain white bus awaited us. JW, our driver explained about his injured clutch leg and how he had to drive an automatic shift bus instead. If JW weren’t such a down home, friendly, folksy and ultra-competent driver, I’d be a bit put off. Besides, he says he ran a marathon in his younger days. That there is worth something!
I had arrived early, chose a seat next to Laura Hollenbaugh, veteran of about 14 marathons, reformed scantily-clad skydiver of over 1200 jumps, sub-four pace group leader, and mentor of many a first time marathoner “virgin.” (Like me, last May.) I threw my blankie and breakfast brown bag on the seat and ran over to a nearby coffee shop with Rose Nelson, just about the most pleasant running companion you can find. We hit the rest rooms there, avoiding the bus bathroom till absolutely necessary and hurried back to our bus.
Holly’s smiling face arrived to our applause and we were on the road only about 10 minutes off schedule. We were the guinea pigs of the very first Runner’s Edge of the Rockies charter bus trip to a marathon. Destination: the Hyatt Regency and Westin Hotel Crown Center Complex, just two blocks from the start line of the Waddell & Reed Kansas City Marathon.
Our bus had overhead compartments just like an airplane, but much better legroom. The windows were high and wide, offering those early morning, bleary-eyed runners who were willing to peak over their blankies, unobstructed views of the sun rising over the prairie.
Merrill Loomis, a veteran half marathoner, leaned over the seat in front of Laura’s and chatted with us about running shoes. Laura offered her experience on what to wear under various weather conditions, referencing her recent marathon under near-worst conditions in Boston. Laura also talked about a concept that would soon prove indispensable to me in the last 10K of the KC race. It was about “running in the moment.” Being aware of your body moment-by-moment, not wasting energy with anxiety about the coming miles. (More about this in Part Three of this account.)
So began the sharing that became the signature characteristic of this adventure: it seemed that we had all the time in the world to share who we were and what we knew with each other, about running and about life.
After giving us time to settle in, Coach David Manthey, who risked great credit card exposure chartering this bus, trusting that we wouldn’t fink out on this trip, stood in the aisle to make announcements: We would run Rim Rock Farm outside Lawrence Kansas. This was the site of the ’98 NCAA cross-country championships, where Adam Goucher ran for CU. David also had Scott explain the somewhat dubious tradition that was being inaugurated called the Pink Hat Challenge. So the story goes, Scott Hild and Kent Kerchoff admired a pink cowboy hat featured in an Idaho Springs shop after the half-marathon in August. A-ha, a fitting award for whoever came closest to achieving their “A” goal in running the KC Marathon. Now this might be OK for a female recipient, but could be downright embarrassing for a male winner. The hat was passed around with cheers and jeers.
Icebreakers, mc’d by David, followed. Each of us was asked to state when we joined the group, if were we running the full or the half marathon and what was our most embarrassing running moment. For most this moment involved stories of pooping or peeing while in the most cramped, uncomfortable, unclean conditions with the least amount of time possible. For a few, it involved puking or making goofy falls while racing.
For me it meant making a public confession that the squeaky-shoe sound heard by those following me after each aid station stop was “mis-heard.” It was coming from an area about two and one-half feet higher up. Be forewarned! Amazing how this exercise in self-revelation quickly gave us common ground.
“Indian names”, icebreaker followed. If runners did not have an Indian name, then they were promptly assigned one by the group. Laura was “Buff Diver,” having confessed a wild side of her skydiving past life. Coach David, with surprisingly little embarrassment, revealed the origins of his Indian name, “Bobby Poops Twice.” When it came my turn I suddenly remembered a name my brother Bob called me when I was a child, “Michael Go-Go.” I never knew what it meant then, but it all came clear to me now: he had unwittingly looked forward in time to my present passion for running. (Anyone else wanting their Indian names to be included for the record, please let me know!)
Finally, David started an on-going game that lasted for hours while movies were played. Name a celebrity with an animal name, like Tiger Woods. Just how many zillion times did someone say, “Robin Williams?”
Movie time. While Napoleon Dynamite was being played, I walked back to the rear of the bus by the on-board restroom, where Holly and Nason enjoyed a three seat spread. The three of us were joined by Jim Turosak, Scott, Rose and Jim Lynch for a high level race strategy planning summit. Jim Lynch, the experienced maverick, expressed disdain for following a pace group leader, wanting to follow his own racing intuition. And why not? Jim had just run the Denver Marathon in nasty weather last Sunday! This was his “recovery marathon.” Scott voiced disinterest in taking the bus tour of the marathon route, wanting to enjoy the novelty of seeing it fresh while running. I brought out my maps of the route, with hill sections highlighted in yellow. An elevation chart was also passed around.
When asked what pace leader I was going to follow, I launched forward on what must have been a tedious rumination of countless reasons to vacillate between a 3:40 and a 3:50 pace. My previous race predictors landed me squarely at a 3:45 pace. (A lot more on this in Part Three.)
A very laid-back but inspiring movie, Endurance, was voted on to be played next. It followed the early years of Haile Gebrselassie, named the greatest distance runner in the world by Runners World. Haile struggles through a physically challenging environment in rural Ethiopia, takes great personal risks in leaving his father and the family farm, and finds a training group in the capitol city and eventually wins gold in the 10K competition in the ’96 Atlanta Olympics.
When confronted with the obstacles that beset my own progress every day, I have used Haile’s story to bolster my resolve to meet my goals. The old saw, “If he can do it, then certainly I can too,” was never more appropriate here.
The loud, trendy movie, Snowriders, followed as I was trying to catch up on some sleep. Oh well, so this 61 year old has tastes that “diss” the younger pop-sports culture!
At 12:30 PM, outside Salida, Kansas, our driver stopped for a half-hour refueling and lunch stop at the Flying J Travel Plaza (a fancy name for a truck stop.) Before tumbling off the bus, JW forewarned us not to get in the way of any rigs coming in or out, characterizing other truckers as being ornery and impatient at best. As all 28 of us trooped in the combination restaurant, convenience store, I saw the lady behind the pizza warming table pick up the mike while eyeing the length of our line and call out, “We have a Code 10.” We were classified as a Code 10! Imagine that.
After lunch and back on the road we were treated to a most unusual movie, Running on the Sun, The Badwater 135. It had lots of shock and awe value, like the shock of bloody socks being peeled off blistered feet, and the awe of runners, reduced to shufflers, puking off the side of the road and worse. I come away from this exercise in self-destruction with one memorable quote, “You see, it’s mind over matter: you don’t mind, and it don’t matter.” Strike the Badwater off my to-do list!
And My 2nd Marathon
Getting There:
Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About What Happened On the Bus
From Denver to Rim Rock Farm
Come on! Where is Holly Robinson! She called to say she was stuck in traffic? At 6:30 in the morning? All 27 of us had arrived at the Sam’s Club parking lot on the morning of October 18th to board the pink and purple pimped out charter bus called Barney. But a plain white bus awaited us. JW, our driver explained about his injured clutch leg and how he had to drive an automatic shift bus instead. If JW weren’t such a down home, friendly, folksy and ultra-competent driver, I’d be a bit put off. Besides, he says he ran a marathon in his younger days. That there is worth something!
I had arrived early, chose a seat next to Laura Hollenbaugh, veteran of about 14 marathons, reformed scantily-clad skydiver of over 1200 jumps, sub-four pace group leader, and mentor of many a first time marathoner “virgin.” (Like me, last May.) I threw my blankie and breakfast brown bag on the seat and ran over to a nearby coffee shop with Rose Nelson, just about the most pleasant running companion you can find. We hit the rest rooms there, avoiding the bus bathroom till absolutely necessary and hurried back to our bus.
Holly’s smiling face arrived to our applause and we were on the road only about 10 minutes off schedule. We were the guinea pigs of the very first Runner’s Edge of the Rockies charter bus trip to a marathon. Destination: the Hyatt Regency and Westin Hotel Crown Center Complex, just two blocks from the start line of the Waddell & Reed Kansas City Marathon.
Our bus had overhead compartments just like an airplane, but much better legroom. The windows were high and wide, offering those early morning, bleary-eyed runners who were willing to peak over their blankies, unobstructed views of the sun rising over the prairie.
Merrill Loomis, a veteran half marathoner, leaned over the seat in front of Laura’s and chatted with us about running shoes. Laura offered her experience on what to wear under various weather conditions, referencing her recent marathon under near-worst conditions in Boston. Laura also talked about a concept that would soon prove indispensable to me in the last 10K of the KC race. It was about “running in the moment.” Being aware of your body moment-by-moment, not wasting energy with anxiety about the coming miles. (More about this in Part Three of this account.)
So began the sharing that became the signature characteristic of this adventure: it seemed that we had all the time in the world to share who we were and what we knew with each other, about running and about life.
After giving us time to settle in, Coach David Manthey, who risked great credit card exposure chartering this bus, trusting that we wouldn’t fink out on this trip, stood in the aisle to make announcements: We would run Rim Rock Farm outside Lawrence Kansas. This was the site of the ’98 NCAA cross-country championships, where Adam Goucher ran for CU. David also had Scott explain the somewhat dubious tradition that was being inaugurated called the Pink Hat Challenge. So the story goes, Scott Hild and Kent Kerchoff admired a pink cowboy hat featured in an Idaho Springs shop after the half-marathon in August. A-ha, a fitting award for whoever came closest to achieving their “A” goal in running the KC Marathon. Now this might be OK for a female recipient, but could be downright embarrassing for a male winner. The hat was passed around with cheers and jeers.
Icebreakers, mc’d by David, followed. Each of us was asked to state when we joined the group, if were we running the full or the half marathon and what was our most embarrassing running moment. For most this moment involved stories of pooping or peeing while in the most cramped, uncomfortable, unclean conditions with the least amount of time possible. For a few, it involved puking or making goofy falls while racing.
For me it meant making a public confession that the squeaky-shoe sound heard by those following me after each aid station stop was “mis-heard.” It was coming from an area about two and one-half feet higher up. Be forewarned! Amazing how this exercise in self-revelation quickly gave us common ground.
“Indian names”, icebreaker followed. If runners did not have an Indian name, then they were promptly assigned one by the group. Laura was “Buff Diver,” having confessed a wild side of her skydiving past life. Coach David, with surprisingly little embarrassment, revealed the origins of his Indian name, “Bobby Poops Twice.” When it came my turn I suddenly remembered a name my brother Bob called me when I was a child, “Michael Go-Go.” I never knew what it meant then, but it all came clear to me now: he had unwittingly looked forward in time to my present passion for running. (Anyone else wanting their Indian names to be included for the record, please let me know!)
Finally, David started an on-going game that lasted for hours while movies were played. Name a celebrity with an animal name, like Tiger Woods. Just how many zillion times did someone say, “Robin Williams?”
Movie time. While Napoleon Dynamite was being played, I walked back to the rear of the bus by the on-board restroom, where Holly and Nason enjoyed a three seat spread. The three of us were joined by Jim Turosak, Scott, Rose and Jim Lynch for a high level race strategy planning summit. Jim Lynch, the experienced maverick, expressed disdain for following a pace group leader, wanting to follow his own racing intuition. And why not? Jim had just run the Denver Marathon in nasty weather last Sunday! This was his “recovery marathon.” Scott voiced disinterest in taking the bus tour of the marathon route, wanting to enjoy the novelty of seeing it fresh while running. I brought out my maps of the route, with hill sections highlighted in yellow. An elevation chart was also passed around.
When asked what pace leader I was going to follow, I launched forward on what must have been a tedious rumination of countless reasons to vacillate between a 3:40 and a 3:50 pace. My previous race predictors landed me squarely at a 3:45 pace. (A lot more on this in Part Three.)
A very laid-back but inspiring movie, Endurance, was voted on to be played next. It followed the early years of Haile Gebrselassie, named the greatest distance runner in the world by Runners World. Haile struggles through a physically challenging environment in rural Ethiopia, takes great personal risks in leaving his father and the family farm, and finds a training group in the capitol city and eventually wins gold in the 10K competition in the ’96 Atlanta Olympics.
When confronted with the obstacles that beset my own progress every day, I have used Haile’s story to bolster my resolve to meet my goals. The old saw, “If he can do it, then certainly I can too,” was never more appropriate here.
The loud, trendy movie, Snowriders, followed as I was trying to catch up on some sleep. Oh well, so this 61 year old has tastes that “diss” the younger pop-sports culture!
At 12:30 PM, outside Salida, Kansas, our driver stopped for a half-hour refueling and lunch stop at the Flying J Travel Plaza (a fancy name for a truck stop.) Before tumbling off the bus, JW forewarned us not to get in the way of any rigs coming in or out, characterizing other truckers as being ornery and impatient at best. As all 28 of us trooped in the combination restaurant, convenience store, I saw the lady behind the pizza warming table pick up the mike while eyeing the length of our line and call out, “We have a Code 10.” We were classified as a Code 10! Imagine that.
After lunch and back on the road we were treated to a most unusual movie, Running on the Sun, The Badwater 135. It had lots of shock and awe value, like the shock of bloody socks being peeled off blistered feet, and the awe of runners, reduced to shufflers, puking off the side of the road and worse. I come away from this exercise in self-destruction with one memorable quote, “You see, it’s mind over matter: you don’t mind, and it don’t matter.” Strike the Badwater off my to-do list!
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