Legs ran o’er London
Not so fast, though shant complain
Saw sights ‘n Chelsea win 

(Editor:  Umm, what is that?  My race report.  Editor:  It looks sort of like haiku. Well, you told me to keep this one short.  Editor: Yeah, the goal is to tell people about the race in a few paragraphs, keep it light-hearted, and put a few pictures in. Okay, I’ll add some pictures.  Editor:  Wait, haiku is Japanese, but you ran the London Marathon.  Actually, I ran the Virgin London Marathon and since I’d never had the wonderful experience of writing haiku I thought it would be appropriate to do so for this race, thereby losing my haiku writing virginity.  Editor:  Wow.  That’s really a stretch.  Can’t you just write a few paragraphs for us? Sure thing, mate.) 

First Paragraph

Since it promised a fast and flat course and usually good weather, I registered for the London Marathon, sorry, the Virgin London Marathon about eight months ago.  My goal, as always, was to PR and finish under 2:45:53.  Having never been to London, I also had an interest in doing some touristy type stuffo, and hopefully getting a ticket to a Premier League soccer (err, football) match (preferably Chelsea FC, my new fave team). 

First Paragraph: Part B

(Editor:  Nice.  Conveniently insert a “Part B” in there as foreshadowing to the inevitable deluge of continuous stream of consciousness writing that shall be now known as “The Longest Race Report Ever.” Ease up, trust me on this one.)  For those of you who might be interested in running the race, the only way I found to register was through Marathon Tours (www.marathontours.com).  Thus, while not the cheapest way to run a marathon, I found their staff to be competent, the accommodations to be suitable, and all of the logistics to be well taken care of.  The fee you pay covers your race entry, a nice hotel in London for either three or five nights (you choose from three properties), race-day breakfast, and transportation to the race start.  (Editor:  And they get you back to your hotel after the race, right? Ummm, negatory.) 

Second Paragraph

Not sure what these guys were doing in the hotel lobby, but they scared me.

With the Icelandic volcanic ash blown to other areas the day before, I arrived at Heathrow Airport without any problems around noon on Friday.  A quick train ride into London and a 15 minute walk to my hotel meant I was checked into The Cumberland by mid-afternoon.  I had already decided that it would make more sense to get my race number on Friday and avoid the Saturday rush.  The expo at the ExCeL Convention Center wasn’t exactly close to my hotel, but the tube and train ride allowed me to figure out the mass transit system and see a bit of the eastern side of town at the same time. 

Second Paragraph: Part B

(Editor:  Here we go again. Oh please, was that last one that painful?  Editor:  No, but this one could be, get me a Guinness.)  The expo was large with booths from the usual suspects of running shoe and apparel companies, fine purveyors of nutrition and energy bars and gels, and sponsors of other races.  After getting my race number and goodie bag and not seeing the race t-shirt inside I asked a volunteer where I would go to pick that up.  She said, “At the end.”  Since I was standing ten feet from the exit door I started looking around and said, “At the end, where?”  To which she replied, “At the end of the race, after you run it, you know…26 miles?” and she looked at me like I was the dumbest runner at the expo.  (Editor: You probably were.) So, apparently, they do things a bit differently in London Town.  The other thing that was a bit different was that there was actually a can of cold beer (sorry, “ale”) in my race goodie bag and really not much else.  I think it’s one thing to get a beer after a race, but these folks clearly mean beer business or maybe they just know what you’re in for when you run 26.2 miles and they figure, “what the heck, better start having these crazies drink the hard stuff now.”  On my way back to my hotel, I met my new friend found from craigslist.com to purchase my Chelsea ticket, ate some fish & chips, and walked by Buckingham Palace.  (“No, Mom, I didn’t see the Queen.”)  A full day indeed. 

Second Paragraph: Part BAM!

The author not in front of the London Bridge

(Editor: Part BAM!? Yeah, that’s what it felt like to me.)  Having been asleep on Friday night for a few hours, I needed to use the toilet (their word, not mine.  I, personally, am partial to “loo.”  Editor: Yeah, I bet you are.)  Not bothering to turn the lights back on during my return trip to bed, I slammed face first into the corner of a half inch thick glass wall which had somehow magically appeared in the middle of my room.  BAM! was the sound followed by blood trickling down my face.  I was able to get the two-inch cut closed without a trip to the ER and henceforth had an interesting story to explain the weird line right down the middle of my forehead.  For the next few days I thought all the ladies were checking me out, only to remember that what they were really doing was wondering why a degenerate looking hooligan thug was carrying a small digital camera, a Fodor’s London Tourbook, and a wide open, heavily used and abused, map of the London subway system. 

Third Paragraph

This guy looks tough, but he's a real softy when you get to know him.

I spent Saturday morning walking around the Houses of Parliament, touring Westminster Abbey, and getting lunch at an outdoor café in Soho.  (Editor: Oh, very European of you.) I probably took in a little too much of the sights, but I was, after all, in London and I had no idea if I’d ever get back.  I spent late Saturday afternoon watching footy highlights on a show, called, oddly enough, Soccer Saturday and then had a heaping plate of traditional British pasta for dinner.  The one thing I noticed about the few meals I’d had so far is that it took the wait staff f-o-r-e-v-e-r to do anything and everything.  Not that I was an American in a rush, but I was an American in a rush. 

Third Paragraph: Part B

I awoke race-day morning to more than my usual back pain, got dressed in my running kit, and went downstairs for my complimentary buffet.  I heard lots of conversations amongst the other ‘thonners, none of which was in English, American or British or Olde.  The most recent email from the race had indicated, “The best pre-race meal would be a bowl of porridge, ‘a runner’s super food’.” Umm, I’ll stick with a bagel, energy bar, and a banana thanks, lest that porridge is nine days old.  I boarded the Marathon Tours bus at 7:15am and was at the race staging area by 7:45am.  From that point to the start of the race was pretty much like the U.S. marathons I’ve run:  wait, stand in port-a-loo line, rub slimy stuff on various parts unmentionable, wait, stand in port-a-loo line, rinse, repeat as necessary.  It did start to rain hard about 30 minutes before the 9:45am start, which was a nice added London-ish touch.  Of course, at this point I had nothing but shorts and a long-sleeve cotton t-shirt with a picture of Santa Claus on it to keep myself warm and dry; I was left wondering when I was going to get my crumpets and why I didn’t bring my well worn woobie. 

This picture was in the race instructions packet. I understand the importance of this, but is the "wee" image really necessary?

Third Paragraph: Part C

(Editor: Ugh. Shuddup.)  The race started without much fanfare.  Despite being in “pen” one (not named corrals there) of three separate starting areas there was a lot of crowding for the first six or seven miles.  This didn’t slow my pace down considerably, but it did mean I had to work extra hard to find the right path, not step on someone, figure out which aid station to use, etc.  At a time when I was supposed to be relaxing, I was doing a lot more thinking than usual.  The middle of the race went fairly smoothly despite the temps starting to rise to the mid-60s.  All of the fans kept telling us to “Go On!” as if we might just stop right there at mile 11 or something.   I did see Deena Kastor at one point running the opposite direction and she didn’t look fresh at all.  I yelled “Go Deena!” but she didn’t hear me over the din of the spectators who clearly came ready with copious amounts of vim.   I thought a few mini-surges around miles 16-18 would give me a fighting chance to PR and I almost ended up running negative splits because of the early crowding, but it just wasn’t meant to be.  I ran 2:48:19 finishing in 396^th place out of almost 37,000 (splitting 1:23:40 / 1:24:39). 

Third Paragraph: The End

I think one of these people is a real snazzy dresser (you can guess which one)

In summary, (Editor: Finally.) the race itself is very well organized and the crowd support is phenomenal.  The course is indeed flat, though there are a couple of minor hills here and there.  The temperatures were probably a bit warm for a really great effort, but even then mid-60s weren’t too bad and the skies were overcast for much of the race.  I’d say that if you were going to run it as a fun, vacation-oriented, race you’d have a really good time.  Doing so, you’d still be able to take in the sights before and after, enjoy a flat course with great fans, and see some of London’s most famous sights along the race route.  However, I’d think twice if you were going to try to use it as a way to run a really fast time.  It may be fast for the elites, but unless you gain entry to the elite start you are going to be behind LOTS of other runners, even if you are in pen one.  That, combined with the narrow streets in the early part of the race, makes it tough to really relax until you are almost an hour in.  The final consideration for those of you trying to push the pace is the travel.  I arrived Friday afternoon and it just wasn’t enough time to get acclimated to the time change.  Arrive on Wednesday and you stand a much better chance.  You also might be okay if you can run negative splits; I typically can’t. 

Third Paragraph: The Real End

In terms of passion UK fans have nothing on UK fans (huh?)

(Editor: So, you saw the Chelsea vs. Stoke match a few hours after the race.  Did Chelsea win?  Boy, did they, 7-0!  Editor: I guess you went straight back to the hotel after that and slept.  Actually, no, I went straight to a club to hear ex-Depeche Moder Alan Wilder give a “concert” and didn’t get back to my hotel until 11pm.)  Then, on Monday, I took one of those big bus tours and got on and off at various stops around the city; even got a chance to walk around some nooks and crannies of the London streets and still saw some of the obligatory tourist spots.  (Editor:  Sounds like a good trip. Indeed it was and I was able to write it up in only three paragraphs.  Editor:  That was a lot more than three paragraphs.  Get me another pint please.  Hey, don’t blame me, I wanted to submit this missive via haiku.)

The nightmares have subsided.  It took four weeks to the day, but they are gone, out of my system.  I’ve survived and I can only hope that I am a better man for it.  The sleepness nights, waking up with chills, the terror, the difficult breathing, tossing and turning, covers on, covers off…finally I have gotten past it.  The torment is over.  (Editor:  Umm…What are you doing? I’m writing my race report.  Editor:  THAT’S the start of a race report?  Sounds more like the first few lines of a Stephen King novel. Just let me get through it; this was a difficult and trying period in my life.  Editor:  It’s ONLY a race report.  Save the drama for your momma.  Besides, you told me you’d make it shorter than the last one you wrote about the Philly Marathon.  You know, the one that took us an hour and a half to read. Yes, this will be shorter, but it might be written in a slightly different “style.”  Editor:  Meshugana.)

What transpired on that February 6 morning was nothing short of horrific.  Each night thereafter was like a series of SportsCenter “Lowlights,” a never ending onslaught of slivered vignettes of misery, pain, and suffering.  Darting in and out of consciousness, teasing me with the idea that I might still be out there, still fighting, still cold and wet and aching and in desperate need of my well worn woobie.  (Editor: Oh brother.  Seriously?  Could you at least explain what this is about? Please, could you have some compassion, some sympathy?  Surely you know that reliving this is difficult and the process is slow because my fingers and hands are jittery as I try to type).

I decided that I needed to run some long races this winter in preparation for my spring marathon, but that’s easier said than done where we live.  This race seemed worth a trip to Jefferson National Forest in Louisville.  15 miles, good, solid distance, on trails, and who knew Louisville had a forest of national stature?  Maybe I’d see Robin Hood.  The pace wouldn’t be fast but it would be a good workout.  This sounded like fun.  (Editor: Wait.  This was a 15 mile trail race? Yes.  Editor: Had you ever run a trail race before, even a 5k. Um, no.  Editor:  I see.  Okay, did you ask anybody about the race or even how you might approach it? I did, surprisingly, I really did.  One friend said he’d run it a couple of times and that the hills were really steep, so steep he had to walk up them and that the downhills were really vicious if it snows.  Another suggested I might take it easy for my first trail race, see what it was all about, and then maybe go back next year and race hard.  Editor:  Oh good, so you took their advice? Oh no, that’s not my style and that’s the reason it was so awful.  Editor:  Meshugana.)

Brake, brake, brake and ssslllllliiiiidddddeeee.  Whew close one.  I certainly wouldn’t want to skid off the side of a hill on my way to the race.  Sure is a lot of snow out here.  Wow, this really is out and up in the middle of nowhere.  Okay, good, leave my car here, get my number.  All set.  Wait.  My car is in 5 inches of snow in the middle of a grassy field.  How will I ever get out?  Well, no matter now, I’ve got a race to win.

Snow lodge in Vail or race registration area?

The start.  These people have trail shoes on cleats and spikes and such.  My old running shoes don’t look quite as…well, as appropriate.  These people just look a little different with their fancy gear and bandanas and mitten thingys and tights and fuel belts.  Oh come on, it’s a running race.  How different can it be?

And we’re off.  I’ll chase him down, he’s young though and running well.  How can he run so well on the downhills?  Oh, the trail shoes, right.  Chasing him, faster, faster, but I am not gaining, I am losing ground instead.  Ouch, branch to the face; ouch, branch to the thigh.  I am bleeding, not much, but a bit, we are in mile 1.  (Editor:  You wore shorts? Um, yes.  Editor: Wasn’t it about 25 degrees and snowing that day? Yes.  Editor: Meshugana.)

Slosh, squish, snow covered trail, ice.  Jump the small stream.  Jump?  I don’t jump anymore.  Run through it.  Well, ease through it.  Splish, splash, slosh, ohhhh, cold, brrrr.  Two pass me on a downhill and they are talking about how beautiful and awesome this is.  Are you kidding me?  This is awful, I can’t run FAST.  How can they stay on their feet?  Slide, slip.  Oh, they have those trail shoes on with those little nubbies on the bottom.  And up the hills we go; footing is bad, slip a bit.  Finally, a patch of paved road, thank goodness.  I can finally run, feel the wind on my hat covered bald head.  Wait.  Is it?  Oh dear, it is!  A sheet of ice a quarter mile long.  Oh my…oh…slowly, slowly.  Little soft toe tipping ballerina steps and slipping, Bambi-like, and careful, be careful.  Easy there Apollo Ono.  Oh, to get back to the trail.  Never thought I’d say that.  And I make it to the sharp left turn back into the snow covered wilderness.

Dan Wells decided not to run this race and volunteered instead. Enough said.

Hold on now, is that a familiar face?  It is!  Dan Wells is working the race!  Me: “Hey Dan, this is the DUMBEST thing I have ever done!”  Dan:  “Chris, what are YOU doing out here?  You are crazy!”  (Editor: Hold on Sir Edmund Hillary.  Dan Wells didn’t even run this race and he called YOU crazy for doing it? Yeah, I think you are starting to understand why I was having the nightmares.  Editor: Meshugana.)

That water will make your feet really cold. Trust me, I know from experience.

Through another stream and another and another and another.  I thought they said there were only three on the entire course.  I think that was number eight, but I know I’ve lost count.  Trudging and lifting and slipping and sliding.  My face, cold, snow covered.  What’s happened?  Where am I?  Oh, I’ve slipped, fallen, try to get up, slip again.  Face plant, snowcone face without any of the delicious blueberry flavor.  And up we go…and trudge on.  Walk.  Walk? And the hills are indeed really steep and bam, down goes Frazier!  More snow on the face.  Eyelids iced and Kip, can you bring me my Chapstick, my lips hurt real bad!

Wow.  It really is beautiful up here, but who has time for the view, I’ve got to finish this thing, get out of Dodge, and do so uninjured.  Down and down and down we go.  This is for billy goats.  Ohhh…steep, slipping, falling, I am going to kill myself!  Yes, that’s it…run INTO trees!  What a race strategy!  I am brilliant!  I have to do that just to stop myself from falllllll….BAM!  Ugh!..and another.  BAM!  I never had to run INTO trees in a race before…and I don’t really like it.  Hold on, around the curve.  Easy…steady.  Grab the branch and whip it around and slingshot…oofff…into the stream and over the rocks and a twisted ankle, but it doesn’t hurt because I am too numb from the cold.

Oh, you’re from Bowling Green?  Okay, great, we’ll run together.  You in front and me following so I don’t get lost and…oh, what’s that?  Oh, we’re off the trail?  Yes, okay, backtrack a bit.  There we go.  Where are those cute orange wisps of nylon to guide us?  Ah, no worries.  Nothing else going on this weekend.  I just have to get to work in about 48 hours.  Think I can do that?  Can you lead me out of this mess and back to my car by then?

Hello race volunteer wearing a parka, snow boots, and five shirts.  Her: “You are doing great!  You are in 4th place.”  Me: What mile is this?  Her: “Mile 10, only 10 to go!”  Huh?  This is a 15 mile race.  Am I nuts or is she?  And, did she just offer me soup during a race?  Are those people actually stopping for it?  Who eats soup during a race?  What do they know that I don’t?  Hmmm…ohhh, maybe they have oyster crackers too!  Oh goody!  Oh come on, my gosh, get going.  You…must…trudge…onward.

5 miles to go.  Passed by two more.  How can they keep running down the hills?  How do they not slip on the roots, the branches, the snow and ice covered rocks that provide such folly for those who might see this mess?  Ohhhhh…trail shoes with those spiky cleaty things.  Wish I had those.  Wish I hadn’t driven here for this.  I need Starbucks bad.  I am a either a knucklehead or an idiot, maybe both.  (Editor:  Mike Lesshafft just texted and all he said was “both.”)

Two miles to go.  There they are, I caught them, one right after the other.  I’m stronger on the ups and flats, they crush me on the downs.  Ouch, fell again.  Why does that keep happening?  Other leg is bleeding now.  “Oh come on,” the Black Knight says, “Tis’ just a flesh wound.”  And on we go.  I do pass them, I am back to number four, but can I stave off the inevitable?  If it’s a downhill finish I am a dead penguin.  Snow and slosh and slop and ice covered leaves beneath my frozen feet, and up and down we go and at last we are getting close.  I can tell.  How?  Because there’s a man sitting in a folding chair at the bend.  Nobody would sit in a chair in the snow if he wasn’t near the finish or ice fishing.

Pretty? Yes. Easy to run on? No.

Around the turn and there it is.  A winter oasis teasing me?  No, a clock with big red numbers on it and it looks really official and everything!  They won’t catch me, but I will kick it in anyway.  Kick it in?  Who am I kidding?  I will only run fast enough not to fall on my sweet bippy and not pull either or both of my hamstrings.  Provided my hamstrings didn’t fall off at mile 11 and are now being eaten by the Snow Miser.

And that’s it.  The end of the “race.”  Here’s your wooden medal sir (Oxymoron indeed: wooden “metal.”)  (Editor: No oxy, just moron.) Race Director dude: “Fine job, how old are you?”  Me: “I have no idea, but I feel like I am 342.”  Race Director dude:  “Great, there’s chili inside and tell the woman that you were the first Master.”

I walk the 30 feet to the frozen bungalow and tell the kind and dry and very warm looking woman, “Miss, I was first Master.  That mountain man out yonder told me so.”  Her:  “Um, that’s great, but we don’t have any awards for Masters other than in the 50k.  Sorry.”  (Editor:  I thought you said this was a 15-miler? Yeah, well, they held a 50k too.  Editor: Sheesh.  You are griping like THAT and you only had to run half as far as them?! Sure, but only one was ahead of me at the split.  Editor:  Are you kidding?!  Somebody in the 50k finished 15 miles faster than you and you were only running 15 total? Oh, no, the split was at about mile 13 I think, right near that polar bear drinking a Coke.  Editor: Meshugana.)

Picture of the oxymoronic wooden medal

So, no award for me?!   Excellent!  I’ve never been so happy to be a loser!  I am outta here!  Fellow runner approaching bungalow:  “Hey, man, good job out th…”  Me: “Later suckas!  No time for small talk or chili!  I am headin’ to the house!”

Jog to the car, hop in, don’t even change clothes.  I want to drive immediately, find that beautiful ice and slush covered open highway, and get a nice hot cup of Komodo Dragon and a piece of lemon loaf.  Try to untie my shoes, but my laces are frozen in an inch of ice.  Nothing my car’s heater won’t fix in about 30 miles.

The end.

Editor:  Um, do you mind if I summarize this so it’s at least sort of helpful for people? By all means.

Editor:  Okay, here’s a list of the types of people who should consider running this race.  People who…

— Like a challenge

— Own trail shoes and/or spikes and know how to put them on their feet

— Enjoy having snow smushed on their faces at least a few times in a two hour period

— Like to run into trees in order to slow down and avoid falling off of cliffs

— Like to get scratched by branches, making their legs bleed

— Enjoy scenic views and beautiful snow covered trails

— Don’t necessarily feel like they need to run fast even though it is a race

— Like ambling through streams, especially ones with frozen rocks in the middle of them

— Don’t take a lot of pride in saying, “I’ve never had to walk during a race.”

— Are nuttier than Dan Wells

That’s about right.  Great job.  Hey, did you see some of my nightmares on YouTube or something?

Editor:  And here’s a list of the types of people who should not consider running this race.  People who…

— Think you should be able to run as fast as possible if you are in a race

— Don’t own proper footwear to adequately traverse a snow and ice covered trail

— Don’t like chili

— Don’t have anti-lock brakes on their car

— Like mile markers throughout the race even if nobody is calling out times

— Aren’t smart enough to reconsider running when it snows five inches early the morning of the race

— Like running on roads that don’t resemble an ice rink

— Only wear shorts in races

— Hate to be “at one with nature”

— Like snowcones that have actual flavors

— Are smart

That’s about right too.  That last one was a bit much, but, yeah, I don’t see myself doing that race again anytime soon.  I will say, in fairness, it was very well organized, beautifully scenic, and a challenge, but I found that it wasn’t really my style and I have the nightmares to prove it.

August is here, and it has been hot! Please slow down and remember to drink for thirst. Congratulations to those who have been running/walking — just getting out there puts you ahead of the game.

I want to thank the BGR webmasters – Shannan Gabe, Chris Grecco, Matt Reno, & Mike Lesshafft for doing an excellent job of keeping track of membership information, sending out the monthly e-newsletter, uploading pictures to the website, and also keeping us updated on Facebook. Thanks to the four of you of taking this task on. I am still making contact with a hard copy newsletter and by mail/phone when needed.

The new website has helped increase BGR membership and allowed present and past members easier access to renew or re-join the club.

Members, we still need your articles, photos, and race results. If you ran a race that is not on John’s website, please submit your results or send us info about the race.

The Lexington Half Marathon came and went back in March. Thanks to all the volunteers who helped out in various jobs the weekend of March 27 and 28.

I want to thank Debbie Jackson and Melynda Milburn Jamison for becoming part of the social committee with Mary Nagle and Bruce Carey. Thanks to Melynda for organizing a club hike at Red River Gorge in May. Twelve members participated and had a lot of fun!! They walked about 7 miles and enjoyed lunch afterwards at Miguel’s Pizza.  Thanks to Deb for organizing a karaoke social in April, a bowling get-together in June, and socials in June and August downtown at Thursday Night Live.

Thanks to Leo McMillen for putting together the Solstice celebration. We started Monday, June 21st at 6:00 am with a run beginning at the Lexington Public Library in Beaumont Center. We ran for an hour as the sun rose and followed it up with breakfast at the Waffle House. That evening, we celebrated with an ice cream social at Leo & Sue McMillen’s, watching the sunset from their house. Thanks for opening up your house to us. It was a fun way to celebrate the longest day of the year.

Finally I want to thank Mike Lesshafft for all his work chairing the Executive Committee to bring new life to BLUEgrass Runners. Thanks to Leo McMillen, Rana Johnson, Shannan Gabe, Melynda Milburn, Louise Hensley and Deborah Jackson for all their input as committee members. Through these efforts by the committee, we have outlined some specific goals and set up plans to achieve those goals through increased membership, new club runs, more outside social activities and an annual bus trip, organizing more road races, offering incentives for club participation, and implementing a system to provide more support for the local running community.

Soon I will appoint a nominating committee to work on next year’s slate of officers.  I hope when they call upon you that you will be receptive to putting your hat in the ring and running for office.  BGR Officers are President, Vice-President, Secretary, Treasurer, and two directors for a two-year term.

Live on life and helping others.

Martin Bess
859-361-0071
mbessky@aol.com

For those of you that are not familiar with the Goofy Challenge, it consists of running a half marathon on Saturday and a marathon on Sunday.  If both are completed within a certain time limit, then you get a Goofy medal.  Appropriately named, I must add.  Well there were three of us that undertook this adventure.  Dan (the Man) Wells, Brennan (All Out) Donahoe, and myself.  Fortunately we all completed the challenge and lived to talk about it.  Not able to walk very well, but we could talk.  

Both races started at 5:40 AM.  You had to get there early since they started closing some of the park roads at 5:15.  I never thought I would be in a traffic jam at 4:30 AM trying to get into Disney World, but I was.  There were roughly 17,000 runners in the half marathon.  However, Disney is great at moving people.  We easily got to the parking lot on time and had about an hour wait for the start.  Since I was in Florida I thought it appropriate to wear shorts.  You may recall that there was some very cold weather in early January.  We had some snow, but mostly sleet and rain with 27 degree temps at the start.  My attire, although not suited for the current weather conditions, gave me that true macho look.  If you consider goose bumps on top of goose bumps as being macho.  Or shaking uncontrollably.  It was so cold, that people were stealing the plastic trash bags out of the trash cans to wear before the race.  As I mentioned Disney is good at moving people, but not that good at telling us where we are going.  We did not know that the start line was about a mile from the bag drop and “waiting” area.  So we got about half way to the start line when the race started.  Fortunately, Dan and I were not in the first of 6 waves so we were not concerned.  When we completed the half marathon, we immediately went to our cars to get warm.  We were back at the hotel and ready for the day by 10 AM.  Although our plans only consisted of relaxing, touring the expo, and eating carbs.  Early to bed was the key.  However, Dan the Man and his wife went to Magic Kingdom for some excitement.   Crazy. 

Mike and a security guard after a cold race in Florida

Sunday morning was a little colder but no precipitation of any kind.  Again a start at 5:40 AM, so we were up by 3:30 to get there in time.  Same traffic jam (again almost 17,000 runners), same waiting around being cold, although I did wear long pants this time.  Left earlier for the start, now knowing the long walk to the start.  However, I did not leave early enough.  I was almost to my coral when the race started.  I was one coral back from the previous day, so I assumed I was again in the second or third wave to start.  As I walked nonchalantly to the coral area, I waved to those in other corals that were part of the first wave of runners starting the race.  When I got to my coral, it was empty.  Apparently I was part of the first wave as well.  I initially panicked and took off running.  But I quickly remembered I was wearing a chip so my time had not started.  I then walked to the start line, waving to the crowd.  What a way to start a marathon.  The marathon course is much more scenic than the half marathon course.  We went through all the theme parks which was fun.  The half marathon mainly ran to the Magic Kingdom and back.  The course for both is very narrow, except on some of the major roads.  I believe the course is intentionally kept narrow so they do not have bottle necks entering the parks.  The course is really narrow while you are in the parks.  So whatever you do, do not try for a PR during either of these races.  There are way too many people to run around or through.  There were many photo opportunities along the course with the Disney characters and there were a lot of runners that stopped to get their picture taken.  The crowd support is remarkably large, mainly in the parks.  They would be several people deep cheering for the runners.  It was a great boost to your energy level.   

Mike and Brennan Donahoe get all Goofy in Disney World

The cost was $300 for the races themselves.  Airfare was roughly $200 per person.  My wife, Mary, went with me.  I was not going to “sunny, warm” Florida in January without her.  Boy was she surprised at the weather.  Hotel about $300.  Rental car $130.  Meals another $100 or so.  Large Awesome Goofy Medal, PRICELESS.  

This race report should be read with either Elton John’s “Philadelphia Freedom” or the Rocky “Flying Higher” theme song playing in the background; your choice, but “Eye of the Tiger” is not a suitable alternative.  Also, note that while I didn’t see it on this trip, club member Gerald Thompson and his wife, Lisa, saw the Liberty Bell.  Honestly, I had seen it few times before and I don’t think that it’s all it’s cracked up to be (Bada Bing! I’m here all week folks!).  (Editor: Seriously? THAT’S going to be the tone of your race report? What’s next, obscure references to Tony Kornheiser, Les Boulez, and the Bandwagon that absolutely nobody will get?) Sheesh, ease up tough guy, I am channeling my inner-Mike Lesshafft on this one.

This race report will be broken up into one unequal part.

Part One

Despite being raised 20 minutes from Philadelphia I never placed its annual marathon high on my list of running “must-dos.”  Indeed, I completed other eastern marathons in Washington, DC, Boston, New York City, and even Bethesda, MD and Scranton, PA before considering Philly and I actually put shorter races like the Philadelphia Distance Run and the Broad Street Run in higher regard.  With that said, I am at a point in my marathoning “career” where I am seeking “fast and flat” races that are usually run in cool temperatures.  (Editor: Oh? So you only want to run the ones where you stand a decent chance to PR?) Bingo! You got it! Spot on! Sharpest knife in the drawer, that one!  Philly promised that, as well as an opportunity to spend time with my family before the Thanksgiving holiday, so I registered for the race last spring.

Travel to and from the race went relatively smoothly.  I flew up on Friday morning and actually saw Gerald and Lisa at Bluegrass Airport as they were en route to the race as well.  Of course, they begged Delta not to put me on their flight (I even saw Gerald slide Audrey, the Delta ticketing agent, a couple of Ben Franklins to seal the deal).  So, we agreed to meet at the Philly airport after our flights and I’d drive them to the race Expo, their hotel, etc. like a good chauffeur would.  Their flight was conveniently only a little delayed and mine was substantially delayed so they arrived a couple of hours before me and were off the hook to experience my adept inner-city driving.  (Editor: Hey, didn’t you hit a bus with your rental car one time when you and Shannan were in New York City on business? Yeah, so?  Well, that doesn’t sound like adept inner-city driving to me. Oh, it could have been a lot worse.  I only just grazed the bus; I mean, getting out of that jam with a just a wee scratch is the stuff of lore, I tell you.)

Really big metal soft pretzel I saw in Manayunk right after I downed a few beers with the locals at mile 20

Gerald and Lisa agreed to meet me at the Expo and they actually walked around with me for a little while, despite how I was dressed.  While the Expo was not the size of one at a really large marathon, there were a fair number of booths and purveyors of fine running goods, including the shortest shorts I’d ever seen made for a guy and priced at only $45.  And, I am not talking about the ones actually being worn by that one guy picking up his race number at the Expo. (Editor: Come on now, be nice.) There wasn’t much free food given out, other than the Jack Link’s Maple & Brown Sugar Ham Jerky that was being distributed from the back of a huge SUV parked inside the Convention Center. I mean, what says, “marathon,” more than free ham jerky?  (Editor: Oh! Did they have the Jack Link’s Jalapeno Carne Seca Beef Jerky too? Always tasty and reminded me of that basketball coach from St. John’s. Oh, be quiet. Please, I am trying to tell a story here.)

We got our race numbers (they even had our names on them).  The race’s long sleeve technical shirt was well designed. The front has the race’s “Running Means Independence” theme emblazoned on it and the back has an outline of the course map along with the words “Kick Asphalt.”  (Editor: Oh, neat, I always like when race organizers sort of sneakily slide in one of the lower level curse words onto the event apparel.)

Part One

What transpired from the point I left the Expo on Friday night until I left my brother’s house for the race on Sunday morning is pretty much uneventful and doesn’t need to be reported.  (Editor: Wait Are you saying that all of the above DID need to be reported? Wow.) Okay, fine.  I spent a lot of time with my family, met my Dad’s new dog, slept at two different residences, ate a lot of carbs, did some shopping with my Mom at Kohl’s and Shop Rite, screwed the cabinet doors to her bathroom vanity on, took a picture of my friend John’s old home on Elmire Lane, and watched TV.  (Editor: Yeah, you were right. None of that needed to be mentioned.)

I drove to Gerald and Lisa’s hotel early Sunday morning, which happened to only be about seven blocks from the race start/finish area.  I dropped my stuff off in their room, took one last swig of water, and lubed up. (Editor: Umm, that last part also didn’t need to be reported.) Gerald and I walked to the start and jogged a bit when we got there. For a race with almost a combined 15,000 runners (7,485 marathon finishers and 7,196 half marathon finishers) it was surprisingly easy to find places on side streets to jog and also easy to get into the corrals only minutes before the race start.

Things are starting to get a little tough at this point in the race

I found the race itself to be fairly well organized with ample amounts of water, replenishment fluid (not sure what brand), and gels (given out a few times from about mile 16 on).  Each of the miles (other than 26) was well marked. Crowd support is sizable, but if you need a really big crowd to keep you going in the late stages of a marathon, then you might look elsewhere.  You see, there are definitely spectators at numerous places on the course; some are cheering, some are in Manayunk drinking beer at 8am, and some are reading the morning Inquirer and drinking tai chi lattes. (Editor: You mean Chai tea lattes, right? Sure, those.)  However, there just aren’t that many fans from about mile 16 to 24, which is when you are running out and back along Kelly Dr. near the river, kind of out in no man’s land, at which is obviously a pretty difficult part of the race.  I did see Lisa around mile 6 and my high school track coach and his wife at miles 2 and 7.  They all looked as if they were happy that they weren’t actually running the race, but also kind of like they would be even happier if they were still in bed watching Hurricane Schwartz and his bowtie give the weather forecast.  (Editor: Well, who starts a late November marathon at 7am? Hey, the early bird gets the worm; go Eagles, I guess).

Gerald looking strong mid-race

The end of the race could certainly have been better organized. As you get to the end of mile 26 (and I didn’t see a sign to indicate this), you get intertwined both with people who are only approaching the half marathon mark of their marathon and people who are finishing the half marathon.  So, for the last quarter mile there are, in essence, three different races being run and a lot of people all coming together at wide ranging paces (say, 6:20s to 12:00s per mile and at different fatigue levels).  Not good and kind of like the vicious snarl of rush hour traffic.

The finisher medal is nice enough, I suppose.  Big, gray (pewter?), and it has the “Running Means Independence” theme etched on the front.  As always, the mylar blank was shiny and kept me warm like a well worn woobie.  The post-race food baggie was somewhat underwhelming, but they did have soft pretzels available, which was a nice, geographically-appropriate touch.

Part One

Gerald and I found each other immediately after the race and saw Lisa not too long after that.  We walked back to the hotel to clean up before going to lunch.  Well, Gerald and Lisa walked back.  I had the most intense hip flexor pain ever, which forced me into taking about three steps and then hunching over for 30 seconds, three steps, hunch, etc.  Those short seven blocks from the hotel to the start/finish area earlier in the morning seemed like about seven miles afterwards.  I think I saw Lisa on more than one occasion look at Gerald as if to say, “Can we just leave him here? He’s walking really slow, he smells bad, and his hair is all messed up.”  For what it’s worth, when we got back to the hotel, Gerald gave me two little red pills and said, “Take these, they might help.”  I tell you, ALL of the hip flexor pain went away within about ten minutes.  I have no idea what they were, but if you need some good stuff, see Gerald or Red Pill G-Man as he is known at post-marathon parties.

To finish the race portion of the trip, the three of us met up with Danville’s Dave Anderson, who also ran the marathon.  We all had a good lunch at Maggiano’s and I only cramped up once, which is good for me.  I usually cramp up a lot more when eating Chicken & Truffle Tortellacci.

One last push to the finish

To summarize: I’d classify the Philadelphia Marathon as a high quality and well-run event.  If you like big city marathons and/or need Pennsylvania as a 50-stater, it’s an excellent choice.  The course is fair and the temperatures are typically pretty cool.  It’s also a great race to consider if you like spending time with my family and a couple of friends of mine from high school.  There are a few things that could be improved, but none of those would stop me from running it again or recommending it to others.

The end.

 “…Oh Philadelphia freedom, shine on me, I love you.  Shine a light through the eyes of the ones left behind…”

(Editor: Wait! Stop the singing, Elton or Reginald Kenneth or whoever you are!  Tell us, how did you do?!  Did the phairly phast and phlat course translate to a PR?  See how I did that?  Phairly, Phast, and Phlat, like Philadelphia and Phillies. Yeah, I get it. Leave the phunny stuff to me, okay?).

Well, I sort of PR’d. (Editor: Sort of? How do you sort of PR?) I matched my previous PR to the exact second. (Editor: Man, that’s weird, do other people do that?) I don’t know, but I did.  I finished in 2:45:53, 58th overall, 7th among Master’s, and 4th among Males aged 40-44.  It probably can be classified as a potential PR course, but the rough city streets for the first six miles, a few decent sized hills, and lack of crowd support at critical stages make the race fair and fair races aren’t usually guaranteed PRs.  However, I came as close as you can to PRing, Dave Anderson did so at age 45, and Gerald missed his PR by about 45 seconds, so the hit rate among our threesome was pretty good.

Gerald and Chris after a tough race

The real end.

“…Shine a light, won’t you shine a light, Philadelphia freedom, I love you, yes I do.”

I would like to tell you all the great things about this marathon, but there really weren’t any. I must admit that it is partially my fault. This marathon has an early start for speed challenged runners. I fit this elite category and took advantage of the early start. I started at 7:20 AM with about 50 other marathoners. The rest of the 326 marathoners (there were a lot of half marathoners as well) did not start until 8:50 AM. Not a bad head start. But unfortunately the volunteers were all scheduled for the later start. The first water table with any water was at mile 7. However, they did give us a map in case we got lost. Little did I know how important that map would be. I got lost 3 times. That may not surprise you, but the course was supposedly “well marked,” which I found out means little orange arrows tied to sign post at the various turns. Fortunately only one of my miss-directions cost me much time. I went a city block out of the way and back. The other two were minor corrections thanks to some on-lookers. So it affected my overall time by less than 5 minutes.

Since I had the early start there were very few spectators on the course at all and I ran the first 24 miles of the race pretty much by myself. Not a fun run, especially when I am used to talking while I run. However, I was “technically” in 3rd place up to just after mile 18 when I was passed by the lead runners. I kept getting passed the rest of the race. This was disappointing as well. Fortunately, as best as I could tell, only three people that started with me finished before I did.

The course was very pretty but very hilly. Stay with me on this as I explain the course elevations. The course was 60% up hill, 20% flat, and 20% down hill. Now how can that be you ask? Well the up hills were very long and the down hills were very short and very steep. One mile up hill climb was countered with about a 100 yard steep decent. Almost too steep to run.

As for the finish, that too left something to be desired. The medal was well, the smallest medal I have ever seen. I don’t proclaim to have that many medals, but when you need a magnifying glass to read “Finisher” then it is a small medal. Definitely not worth running 26.2 miles for. In addition, when I finished which was only 3 hours and 30 minutes after the official start of the race, they were already out of bagels. There were some rolls and water left. No Gatorade at all. They were giving out some new drink that sounded very promising. Something like miracle milk, not sure of the real name. The label read well, but it tasted like Pepto-Bismol. I had that confirmed by another runner. I did get a nice 15 minute massage after the race. That was probably the highlight of the day. I hate to sound negative but these are the facts as I saw them. Again, as my wife would say, it was my fault. Of course she says that no matter what happens. But I was the one that opted for the early start which led to most of the above issues, except for the cheap little medal, and skimpy food at the finish. I don’t know about you but food at the finish is a key point to any long race.

If you need a New Hampshire race to get 50 states, then this one is for you. Just don’t start early and don’t set your expectations too high.

Deborah Howatt shows off her Nike Women's Marathon "medal," a Tiffany necklace with the "Run Like a Girl" slogan.

Three BLUEgrass Runners took in the sights of the Bay Area as they joined a crowd of more than 20,000 on October 18 for the 6th annual Nike Women’s Marathon, an event designed to celebrate women’s running and raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

Team in Training Coach Martin Bess and a team of ten Lexington area runners celebrate the culmination of months of training and fundraising in San Francisco.

And speaking of Team in Training, BGR President Martin Bess headed up the Lexington TNT team who took part in this year’s San Francisco event.

Martin coached ten local runners across the finish line, helping them all receive the prized Tiffany blue box containing this race’s unique finisher’s medal: a Tiffany necklace.  A nice reward for completing a challenging marathon course and raising thousands of dollars for leukemia research.  The 2009 event raised $14 million overall for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.  Interested in Team in Training?  Contact Martin Bess at mbessky@aol.com or 859-361-0071.

Mary Beth Naumann happily receives the coveted Tiffany blue box from a tuxedo-clad SF fireman just after crossing the finish line.

by Terry Foody

August 2009

Nestled along a beautiful lake in the southwest Corner of New York State resides the The Chautauqua Institution. Initiated over 100 years ago, it has focused on education, religion, the arts and recreation for generations during nine weeks of the summer. The size of a small town, it is a utopia with interesting, uplifting programs, lectures and concerts offered all day long. People get around by bicycle, bus or foot. Gingerbread houses, hotels, condos, and boarding rooms create an immaculate, peaceful setting. This is the second time Rick Detty and I have come here to unwind and be inspired.

A tradition for Chautauqua is to celebrate their heritage one a certain Tuesday they call “Old First Night.”  The Saturday before, they hold the “Old First Night Run”.

The 33rd annual Old First Night Run was held on August 1. On a crisp morning, several hundred lined up to participate in the approximately 2.7 mile (maybe longer) contest. Chautauqua hosts the oldest Boys and Girls Club (summer day camp) in the USA, so many of the race participants have come here as youth and now return as middle-aged adults for this run. There are many hearty elderly at Chautauqua who navigate its steep roads and paths to get to the entertainment /lecture venues every day. As a result, along with the high-energy youth, the race contains several seasoned runners who are surprisingly fast. The route roughly follows the perimeter of the Institution, with residents providing moral support by cheering, chalking their granny’s name on the road, or banging on cooking pots. There’s one huge, long hill in the beginning as you climb from the lake level, then the route just ambles along with some dips and sways. The scenery at times is breath – taking with views of sailboats on the lake, and flowers hanging on fences by the road.

Age groups are10 years and I took third in mine. The first place in my age group had 26:00, and she cried when she won. She said, “I’ve done this race for 11 years and never placed. I turn 60 and I get first !” Ah, the joys of aging. The oldest female runner was 81 and she looked pretty fit and hip to me (her grandkids were so proud). Oldest male runner was in his 90’s. I completed in 29:06, knowing that I had done better on a practice run of the route earlier in the week. Must be all that ice cream after each night’s concert slowing me down. Oh, well.

Rick skipped the race due to a nagging injury. A limber old man set up a massage table near the finish line area. Rick laid down and the man pressed deep into his side. Rick stood up, started running and was cured! Hmm…a touch by the old and wise near the waters of the Chautauqua. Good for what ails ya.

 A race on summer vacation in Chautauqua – a great occasion in any time.

www.ciweb.org

With 194 miles down and only 6 to go, Louise Hensley, Rana Johnson, Mike Lesshafft, Chris Grecco, and Bryan Rowe of Team Healthway are all smiles.

BLUEgrass Runners was well represented in the inaugural Bourbon Chase Relay, October 9 and 10. The 200-mile overnight event included more than 150 teams, each made up of 12 runners who made their way through the Bluegrass along the Bourbon Trail, with exchange points at each distillery along the way. 

Shane Ensminger runs a scenic leg of the inaugural Bourbon Chase while his Badges & Barrels team van passes en route to the next exchange.

Beginning on Friday at the Jim Beam Distillery in Clermont, Kentucky, the course headed south through Bardstown, Lebanon, Perryville, Danville, and Stanford before making its way back north to Harrodsburg, Lawrenceburg, Versailles, and Midway.  The final leg of the race brought each team down Leestown Road and into downtown Lexington for a finish line celebration, complete with Bourbon tasting and live music.

The following Bourbon Chase teams included one or more BLUEgrass Runners:

Mary Stebbins and the Bourbon Stumblers enjoy having those 200 miles behind them.

Bourbon Stumblers – Team Captain and BG Runner Mary Stebbins led her team to a second place award in the Mixed Open division and 7th overall.

Team Healthway – BG Runner Mike Lesshafft commandeered this team sponsored by the Healthway Trail System project, which included club members Mary Beth Naumann, Kevin Compton, Rana Johnson, Louise Hensley, Chris Grecco, and Shannan Gabe.  They finished 5th in the Open Mixed division and 23rd overall.

The Defective Returns, including members Dave Kjelby, Norma Stanford, Don Stanford, John Sensenig, and Dick Jefferies, celebrate 200 miles with a finish line photo.

John’s Run/Walk Shop Defective Returns - Club Members Don Stanford, Norma Stanford, Dave Kjelby, John Sensenig, and Dick Jefferies  teamed up under the sponsorship of Lexington’s  favorite running store and finished 67th overall.

Team White Lightning – BG Runners Sally Statom and Felicia Rouse helped this team to a 92nd place finish.

Sally Statom, Felicia Rouse and their half of Team White Lightning stop for a photo opp along the Bourbon Trail.

Savor Slowly – Club member Analy Scorsone and friends finished in 76th place overall.

Club members enjoy a scenic lunch break while awaiting the replacement bus (Front: Sally Statom, Sarah Hackney, David Kjelby, Tom Hackney, Kim Elkins; Back: Ralph Mullins, Scott Weisenbach, Mike Lesshafft, Mary Lesshafft)

by Mike Lesshafft

May 2009

BLUEgrass Runners’ trip to the Biltmore for the 5K & 15K races seemed to be a chance for a nice quiet weekend with friends.  There were 23 of us on the trip.  Club member Rana Johnson had reserved a bus, made the hotel arrangements, and scheduled two opportunities to tour the Biltmore Estate.  In addition, there was a beautiful course for either a 5K or 15K, your choice.  What more could you want out of a weekend trip?  Well Rana had a few surprises for the group.

When we arrived at the starting point of our journey the bus was ready to go.  It was a small bus but well suited for our needs (at least that is what we thought).  We piled in, got situated, and we were off on our journey.  For the first few hours of our trip it was what you would expect from a runners bus trip.  Lots of talking, Rana had some great games for us to play to pass the time and the usual dialogue on injuries that would keep each of us from performing our best the next day.

Apparently, Rana had decided that this was not enough of a team building experience, so she rigged the bus’ engine to overheat and we had to stop on the side of the interstate, about 100 feet from an exit that had absolutely nothing to offer.  Fortunately, Rana had planned ahead with a cooler of water.  So we waited for the engine to cool down so we could add some water.  Did I mention that this bus did not have a bathroom?  Well it did not.  All this talk of water, and the fact we were all hydrating the day before a big race, all the women had to go to the bathroom (and most of the men).  After a quick lesson on what poison ivy looked like, Rana (again the ever prepared girl scout) pulled out a box of handy wipes and a roll of toilet paper.  So we watched as a  parade of women from our bus hiked up the interstate to the exit ramp in search of  a secluded bush.  By this time, the engine cooled down and water was poured into the radiator and then immediately flowed out the blown hose at the bottom.   The bus driver called ahead for a new bus which could arrive within two hours.  However, we needed to get to the next exit (which was 4 miles away) to meet the new bus.  So we reloaded the bus and chugged along the emergency lane at about 10 miles per hour.  We were very fortunate that the weather was beautiful.  Very comfortable temperatures with sun and no rain.

We had progressed about two miles when the bus stopped again.  This time at a very narrow emergency lane with a guard rail.  Apparently some of us had watched “cops” on TV (plus we had two with us on the trip) and realized we had not stopped at the safest location.  We quickly exited the bus.  It reminded me of the starting line at a race that does not have chip timing.  Everyone was pushing to the front, but still keeping things orderly.  We jumped over the guard rail and realized we were on a steep hillside.  Rana’s plan for team building was working to perfection.  Somehow she must have thrown a pair of men’s boxer shorts next to the guard rail.  Scott (Mary Stebbins’ brother, at least he was before this trip, not sure if he is still claimed) quickly rallied the troops by finding a long stick, placing the pair of underwear on the stick, posting it in the ground, and proclaiming this location as Camp Underwear.  It was a moment from a reality TV show.  All those in attendance (actually there were only 3 of us standing anywhere near Scott) were touched by the moment.  The other 20 were up the road a little bit and completely ignored us.  But we knew deep in their hearts they were impressed.  The bus engine cooled down and we eventually made it to the next exit to await our replacement bus.

Little did we know what Rana had planned for us there.  First, there were actually bathrooms at this exit and a wonderful little restaurant with an outdoor deck that overlooked the rapids of a small stream.  It was shady, cool, and very nice.  We ate there as we watched several rafting groups go by.  It was very enjoyable.  Then our replacement bus arrived right on queue.  Another surprise from Rana.  This was a large touring bus with a bathroom.  And it just so happened the new bus driver was an expert on the Asheville area.  He pointed out various sights as we drove into the city.  He was very informative and a nice touch in Rana’s grand plan.

Although we were running a few hours behind schedule, we got to the Biltmore just before the ticket office closed.  We were able to tour the majestic palace, and it was wonderful.  Rana had reservations at a lovely Italian restaurant.  The food was terrific and very reasonably priced.  Then it was back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.

Club members Marta Roller, Rana Johnson, and Mary Stebbins show off their hard-earned awards after conquering the challenging Biltmore 15K course.

The next morning our original bus was ready to take us to the race.  The radiator hose had been replaced.  We got there in time to get a wonderful parking place near the toilets.  Prime spot for most of us.  The weather was great, overcast and cool.  Very nice for a run.  The race started on schedule.  The course meanders through the estate and is very picturesque.  We learned quickly that when the course is said to be “rolling,” in North Carolina that means you are running either up a mountain or down a mountain.  One uphill section was 1.3 miles long.  But the challenge apparently wasn’t too much for the BLUEgrass Runners, since several of our group brought home medals.

Although the ride back did not take as long as the ride there, it was not as exciting.  Rana had plenty of games for us to play and prizes for the winners.  We also took up a collection to establish a trust fund to maintain Camp Underwear.  Unfortunately most of us must have spent our money on food or memorabilia because we only got energy bar wrappers, some wet wipes, other discarded items, and two pennies.  I guess they were not as impressed by Camp Underwear as I thought.

All in all, it was definitely a trip to remember.  Thanks to Rana for all her hard work and for coming up with all those wonderful surprises.  I can honestly say I had a great time!