Know what it’s like to stand in the rain for three hours?
I do.
Know what it’s like to feel cold raindrops down your butt crack, cleavage, in your eardrum, and in your eye?
I do.
Know what it’s like to run in the rain?
I do.
And so is the backbone of my description for Beach to Bay Relay 2010, a run that will go down in epicness for my running memories.
Beach to Bay Relay is is an annual six-person relay running event held in Corpus Christi, Texas on the third Saturday in May (Armed Forces Day). The very first Beach to Bay Relay Marathon was held on Armed Forces Day to honor our nation’s men and women serving in the United States of America’s Military. This tradition was founded by Captain John Butterfield, who today currently resides in the State of Florida. The Beach to Bay Relay Marathon is a complete 26.2 point-to-point relay route, beginning on North Padre Island, winding through Naval Air Station Corpus Christi and ending at Cole Park along Corpus Christi’s scenic downtown. The course is divided into six-legs approximating 4.4 miles. The first leg is run on the beach and the remaining legs are run of pavement.
Now, that being said. I traveled down to Corpus Christi with a bunch of my fellow Aggies and was signed up for a non-competitive girls team. The morning began with members of leg five figuring out our own travel arrangements to get to our running positions; as all the other legs had shuttle service for them. Luckily, Lauren lives down there and knew all the backroads.
We begin our trek towards a park for Lee to drop off his truck at the end of the race, and drive to a shuttle that would take us to our starting point. Our starting point was, I would guess, about a quarter mile of street designated for baton exchange. With about 14,136 participants and 6 legs, that equals out to 2,356 people exchanging batons in this area. Just a guess. The weather might have deterred some teams from actually participating.
Yes, I knew this going in.
We arrive at our bus stop and trot up to hop on the bus. The weather is very, very gloomy. We’re right on the beach, so the wind is also pretty strong. We’re all wondering what we’re in for. The bus takes us to a clearing with a tent (a-hem A SINGULAR TENT) and a row of port-o-johns. Some of our fellow runners immediately take shelter in said port-o-johns.
Two of my fellow Aggie leg five runners. At this point, they’re PRETENDING to be miserable. And when I say pretending, I mean it’s because we’re standing in front of port-o-john’s to shield from the wind and it’s only sprinkling at this point.
We stand there about an hour and some of the first runners come in. Their pace is amazing and inspiring. Time goes on and we don’t see many runners. We do see, however, more and more stormclouds. All of our hands are prunes within the first hour. I have to turn my iPod and my Blackberry holster into the inside of my arm to protect it from the rain. I still have a huge chafe mark from where it was irregularly placed. The rain itself transcends from light sprinkles, to thunder/lightning/ooo frightning to pins and needles – and every shade of drop, speed, texture, and direction in between. The light and the heavy. The straight down and the sideways. We are now experts on all types of rain and lightning pattern that would happen in Corpus Christi.
We stand around for another hour until Lee’s team, the Speedy Johnsons, exchange batons. These batons are pieces of PVC pipe, just FYI. Now look at the picture below. Notice that our clothes are now completely drenched, Lauren swears she has to keep her hand between her legs or else she can’t feel it. She told me later she felt pins and needles all through her fingers and the back of her hand when she started her run. I agree, I had the complete shivers when I stepped up to grab mine.
The whole ordeal could have probably been more organized. Military officers were present to constantly move people off the road who were desperately looking for team members. Busses AND ambulances were also trying to access this two lane road. Puddles were everywhere, beach mud was getting pretty gross. Not to mention the people continuing to seek shelter in the port-0-johns, which I’m really surprised did not result in punches to face. Team numbers were being yelled by an old woman from this blue tent, and she did not sound very happy.
This day was totally extreme in terms of sticking it out. We were jealous of people in trash bags. Now, stay with me here – we were JEALOUS of people wearing TRASH BAGS (see below for trash bag depicting wind speed). Two hours in and my positivity was definitely depleted. I finally decided it was best to start up my iPod and try to warm up, seeing as how we were the complete opposite of warmed up for most of the time.
There was one point where I looked at Lauren, pointed, and laughed “Ha-ha! Your hair is sticking STRAIGHT UP!” She said “Yours is too!” and we both get the look of fear in our faces. The only other time I have seen this is on the third deck of Kyle Field where the possibility of lightning is actually possible. After a little freakout and yet, another, grand glorious burst of lightning across the sky, our hair returns to normal.
After the second hour it was definitely becoming madness. All of those people standing around are people looking for their team members. Some of them signed up online and had never met, only having the numbers safety pinned to them to go by. Some people even walked around for long periods of time looking for their team members; making the entire hand-off area even more insane.
Finally it was my turn to run. I grab the baton, give a “peace out” to my fellow standing-around runners and take off. The run is mostly straight away, which is more intimidating to me than anything. I try to keep positive and look to the sky, where I see clouds and pelicans. I spend the entire first mile in a jog, which is pretty good considering how much I have NOT been running. So many people walked the first mile. I was really, really surprised by that. My strategy this time around was a “slow and steady wins” thought process, whereas if I just jogged instead of run, it’d be better than trying to run and ending up walking off most of my depleted energy. In looking up, I miss the dead cat and dead fishes my friends say they saw. I didn’t bring my Nike + iPod around, because between packing for Missouri and throwing half of those contents into a new bag for this trip, well, I didn’t really know where it was. I have no idea what my time was, but I know I spent a large majority of it jogging and not walking.
The route takes us from a rural beach road over a bridge, down a larger street past the Texas A&M Corpus Christi Campus, splitting a lane with traffic that we’re magically moving faster than, down a neighborhood street, and towards a collection of parks. Not a bad four miles. Didn’t talk to anyone like I did the 5K. I think everyone was so over the rain they were just ready to get it over with.
Also tried the gel-pouch-energy-food things. I think they work, as I totally dominated the last mile. I get to our parking lot and snap the picture below. Just for grins. Oh and to show the rain has stopped now that the race is mostly over.
Our from-the-start non-competitive team placed 1,852 out of 2,356, so yeah, we were in the slower half. I was kind of disappointed in the medal. A square medal?! If it’s square, I feel like it needs to be at least as big as my drivers license. But… Wait. Got my first medal for running 🙂 Not a bad day.
It’s Monday night and my left eye still is all bloodshot from receiving multiple raindrop pelts. Please, please go away before my potential interview.
