Anyone who knows my training regimen knows my headless chicken Saturday morning efforts are the product of relentless daily afternoon slog jogs through the Soda City. I am continually amazed by those of you that throw down tempos and speed sessions during the week, while I’m out there loping along to mid 90s alternarock getting passed by hobby joggers. 

But there’s one exception… Strava segments.

Like little invisible dangling carrots, segments stoke my raging competitive narcissism and I can’t help but throw down every now and then to get on the leaderboard. I too am the author of a few segments, including the infamous MOUNT LYNHAVEN , which gets my vote for worst hill in the Columbia area (with consideration for Henderson St as well). But what about a segment named after me?

A couple of months ago, I was so eager to check out Drew and Tracy’s potential new house on Heyward St that I decided to run over there from the Y and take a look. It was already under contract though they were having work done on it. Somehow that led me to believe that it was unoccupied. I was wrong. A sweaty Sasquatch made his way all the way to the backyard before seeing a car and some kid’s toys. Total panic. My mind immediately filled with images of being the next perp on OPLive, with 250 lb muscle-beast Deputy Garo Brown tackling me in the middle of Shandon for trespassing. I feel like that would be hard to explain to the SC medical board. In any event, Tracy decided to christen the two blocks (0.18 miles) in front of the new house as the “BLUE SHOE CREEPER” segment.

And if you’re going to have a segment named after you, then you should probably be its champion, right? One problem. Strava segment leaderboards automatically populate with previous runs. A certain Eric Westog, who crushed the Run for the Saints 5k in 4:50 something pace, held the Creeper record – an even 1:00. I tried twice to take it down in the late summer heat, after a few miles. No dice. Like 1:03, 1:04. So close,  yet so far away. I made it my mission to take down the record, and the Blue Shoes SUB 1 (minute) project was born.

After a few weeks of my empty promises to race it, Tracy and Drew moved in and agreed to stage an official photodocumented attempt. I would come down there, in my VAPORS, fresh legs, cooler weather, with traffic control (yeah, we’ll get back to that) and of course plenty of pics and a celebratory beer. I guess it was time to get off the pot.

I showed up around 4 and was ridiculously nervous for something that absolutely, positively, had no bearing on anything whatsoever. Somehow I had worked this thing up to be a metaphor of my total value as a runner. Seems logical, right? I warmed up for about 2 miles around Shandon and felt like trash. This was going to suck. 

Finally we set it up. Simple straight route on Heyward from Woodrow to Queen. Tracy at the finish for pics and Drew at King Street to avoid me getting T boned at the intersection. I strolled down to Woodrow, and figured I’d give myself about 10 meters for the Blue shoes bus to get rolling into the start. I waited for the light to turn green and just blasted out of the gate. My first sensation, other than my hat wanting to fly off my head, was that I was most certainly every bit of 47 years old. All achy from my slog jog miles and not used to ever approaching this kind of speed, not even on race day. First block seemed OK. Drew was there filming at King Street and no cars were there. Unfortunately I had a sense I was being tailed by one but I don’t dare look back at sprint speed, since I’d probably end up eating pavement. Second block was another story. First, my legs started bathing in the lactic acid of the first 200 meters. Second, there was a car waiting to pull out of the Heyward St United Methodist church. I have run past that church perhaps hundreds of times in the past decade plus. Number of cars pulling out: ZERO. But this woman picked this particular moment to potentially destroy the dream of the SUB 1. Perhaps it was the car behind me, but more likely the absolutely terrifying scene of a runaway freight train of a man that gave her pause. As I blasted by her, three teens were mocking me on the sidewalk, Drew and Tracy were screaming at me, and there were possibly other cars involved too. It was a complete scene, probably going to end up on the Shandon Nextdoor site. The last ten meters were pretty much torture, the legs turning to stone and my pace plummeting. I crashed through the “finish” as hard as I could and ran over a bit to make sure it captured the segment. Legs and lungs were absolutely on fire. I immediately saved the run and it seemingly took forever to upload to Garmin/Strava. Please…please..please… BEEP . I saw the run pop up with a golden crown and 57 SECONDS. Wooooooooooo! PROJECT SUB 1 COMPLETE.

I was pathetically happy with this. I’m embarrassed to say it made my week. It may be broken by the time you read this, but for now, I am the BLUE SHOE CREEPER CHAMPION. Thanks so much to Tracy and Drew for the support, photodocumentation and of course the celebratory beer.

PHOTOS COURTESY OF JEDI RUNNER PHOTOGRAPHY

The Ray Tanner Home Run 5k/12k has been a staple of the Columbia area racing scene since 2005, initially held at the old Sarge Frye field and later migrating to its current spot at Founders Field. Tanner was the architect of the Gamecocks College World Series championships  in 2010 and 2011, and he now serves as USC’s athletic director.The race goes to fund his foundation, which helps economically and medically disadvantaged kids and their families in Columbia. 

But let’s focus on the real issue here: CRC POINTS. As a diehard CRCer and trophy hunter, I pride myself on using my encyclopedic knowledge of the Columbia road racing scene for the past 15 years to do the mental calculus to maximize my points. This, however, was an epic fail. 

I chose the 5k, as it is definitely the “undercard” and the winning time in the past has been as high as 20 minutes. The 12k has historically been brutally competitive, with elites from all over the state throwing down some blazing times. That’s why we gave the race double points during the McDonald administration. Even with the double pointed 12k, I figured my chances at top 10 were not great. I placed 6th or something last year but I figured it was just the smaller crowds post covid. Sounds logical, right? 

However, I’ve always done the 12k in the past because the course is cool (designed by our own Ken Lowden, also former Ray Tanner race director) , the distance unique,  and it’s one of Columbia’s signature races. So I waited and agonized over the choice, but finally just pulled the trigger on the 5k. Contrary to the tough 12k route, the 5k looked pretty “flat and fast”.  My inside sources told me Dimery and Giovannini were signed up, but hopefully I could finish not too far behind Dr. G. 

I showed up my customary hour early and did my typical nuclear destruction of the parking lot portapotties. I can’t deal with the performance pressure of the more popular inside bathrooms. I didn’t see an official race photographer so I decided to Sweaty Iphone the 12k start. The 12k has a one mile lap at the start so you can see the very beginning and about ¾ of a mile in. I didn’t really notice the field until the second time they came around. Shrum was out in front, and then a whole pack of the top women, and then Roy and Ed. DAMMIT. Not that the Prez and Fast Eddie aren’t fast, but they are mere mortals like myself. No Kenyans, no elites outside of Shrum. So many missed points. Oh well.

Lining up for the 5k got me even more depressed. Regan and Branham were on board and there was even a rare Jeff Brandenburg appearance. I was already catastrophizing about getting beat by all these guys. And these were the known factors. Some super fast looking kid was at the line as well. Also, some team of little kids in neon orange showed up and all of them crowded the start line. Luckily their coach had them step to the side a bit, but between 15 elementary schoolers and Jeff’s dog, this start was going to be nuts. Sure enough, as soon as honorary starter Aliyah Boston said the word, everyone took off like a bat out of hell. I stiff armed some little dude, jumped off to the side and found a seam like Marcus Lattimore circa 2010. 

After blasting out of the start to avoid trampling schoolkids, we settled down as we crossed the Blossom st bridge. At this time you start weaving into the midpack 12k field, so it can get a little dicey. Luckily it was fairly thinned out so not too much dodging. Dimery and the fast kid were already in a different area code. Regan and G were about 10 meters ahead and Branham was riding my shoulder. Crossing the bridge to State Street is the main incline of the 5k course, which is barely a bump compared to the brutal B avenue and overpass climbs of the 12k route. We basically maintained this position through the mile 1 mark, which is just after you turn on State,  6:11 split. State Street features the Inspiration Station, which now honors both Leona Lavallee (a big part of the Columbia running community who passed away in 2009) and the late legendary Patti Lowden. It’s always nice to see the band and cheering at the station, even more when you get to bypass the B avenue mountain!  Chris is still on my back like an oversized monkey at this point, and I can see Regan jabbering away at Giovannini up ahead, exacting his psychological torture. We hit the Gervais st bridge just over the halfway point and now it’s mostly just us and what appears to be Ivanka from the 12k on the course. I’m finally able to drop Branham at this point, though I’m not confident I won’t see him again. And of course I’m deathly afraid of getting Brandenburged. I try and just maintain pace and hit mile 2 at the end of the bridge in a 6:06 split. Mile 3 has the other hill, which essentially is a little bump on Gist street and another rise on Huger. I knew it’s all downhill and flat from there to the finish in the stadium. As I start the Gist hill, I see blood in the water. Regan has started to fade. It’s probably too early to really kick it  but I at least throw down a bit harder on the incline. Sure enough, I manage to pull alongside Regan on Huger and he says he’s gassed. I want to believe him but I’m not sure. As I start the plunge down Huger I can see Dr.G not too far ahead. I try and ramp it up but the Regan pass on the incline has taken its toll. G kicks it in and I can tell I’m not going to catch him. As I blast into the stadium, I can make out mid 18s on the clock. It’s going to be close. One more headless chicken effort to home plate and I don’t even look at the clock, doing a semi HYC style collapse into the artificial turf. I know Strictly tends to round up their times if it’s even a touch over the second recorded, so I have no idea if I got a sub 19. I get my ticket printed out and it’s official: 18:58.98 YESS. 4th overall. So not happy missing out on the 12k pointapalooza, but I am happy with the 5k time and place. 

I should note the 12k was an unexpected trophy hunt for the MEN ONLY. The women’s field was definitely stacked. Sara Ashton took the women’s win in 46:57, followed by Jen Davis and Lauren Strothers. Mike Shrum crushed the field in 44:12 for the overall win followed by Ed Aufuldish and Michael Nance. The YERG Rob Yerger and Ivanka Tolan were masters winners. Mario Alvarez took home grandmasters. Ruth-Marie Embler was the female grandmasters winner, clocking an incredible 57:39/7:44 pace at age 65, a pending state record. 

12k age groupers :Lindsey McIntosh, Sally Davidson and Mara Argyriou were tops in a super competitive 25-29 women’s group. Kara Stevens and Lindsey Hendren were top 2 in the 30-34. Jennifer Lybrand and “nonfacebook” Jenna Teer were 1-2 in the 35-39 women, while Andy Mikula was 2nd among the men. Justin “eyedocrunner” Campbell and Tristan Neville were 1-3 in the 40-44 men and Nikki Barthelemy was tops among the women. Drew Dickerson and Julie McKinnon were champs of the 45-49. Heather Hawn was 2nd in the 50-54. Barbara Brandenburg, Kay Ornelas and Sherry Fadel won the 55-59 women, while Clay Ham, Robert Ornelas and Joe Robinson won among the men. Pete O’Boyle and Carol Wallace both won the 65-69.  Bill Iskrzak was 2nd in the 70-74 men, while Lynn Grimes was the champ among the women with an 8:56 pace!

Other 12k notable finishers: Jim Fadel, Michael Jensen, Patrick Hall, Allison Sweeney, Rebekah Robertson, Nancy Alvarez, Julia Ghering, Kurt Hamm, Gretchen Lambert, Son Nguyen, Jenny Nance, Sheila Bolin, Bridgette Honor, Hou-Yin Chang, and Greta Dobe.

The 5k was won by 19 year old Henry Wood in a blazing 16:11, followed by Dimery with a 16:41 – not too shabby for a 40 year old. David Giovannini was 3rd in 18:43. Gabby Jourdain was tops among the women, followed by a pair of 11 year olds –  Paisley Hinkle and Delilah Williams. “Consolation” masters went to the Albino Sasquatch thanks to Dimery placing in the overall. Coleen Strasburger is too fast for grandmasters and won female masters in 24:26. Jeff Brandenburg and Janine Nimmons were grandmaster champs.

5k age groupers: Quentin and Sabine McGrievy both placed 2nd in the 14-16. Regan Freeman won the 25-29. Chris Branham won the 40-44. Chirs Fawver and Brie McGrievy were the 45-49 champs. Johnathan Kirkwood and Michael Sakara were 2-3 in the 50-54, while Kimberly Holliday won among the women. Mark Bedenbaugh took the 55-59 win. Phil Smith was champ of the 60-64. Marc Embler (1981 Cooper river bridge 10k winner)  and Ron Lipe were 1-2 in the 65-69. Helene Lipe took 3rd among the women. Pete Poore was 3rd and Nonie Hudnall 1st in  the 70-74. Ken Lowden was champ of the 75+.

Other 5k notable finishers include: Melinda Waldrop, Kat Hudgins, Dorothy Collins, Sandra Manning, and racing machine Margie Shelburg, completing race #32 for the year!

What happens when you combine a brutally hot summer with a long run-less vacation in July and a general lack of motivation? A wicked case of the slowsies. I realize slow/fast are relative terms. Hell, OJ Striggles probably does tempo runs at my 5k PR pace. But there’s nothing more alarming for a maniacal competitor such as myself than not racing for a while and laying a couple eggs when fall season starts. I mean, Justin Pepper and Labor Day were epic struggles and a good 30-45 seconds off what I was throwing down in the spring. My training basically depends on regular racing for speed, so I guess the only way is to race myself back into shape. Time to rebuild the machine. 

And I’ve basically always done the Springdale 5k. It started out as an insane super hot evening race in long grass on a horse track, but is now thankfully in the morning on roads. It has been a GRIT/Erin Roof event for the last few years, so nice swag and awards are a given. The horseshoe trophies are an essential part of the feng shui of my narcissistic office shrine. I must have more. Speaking of narcissism, we can’t forget the epic Blue Shoe victory of 2021. Yes, there was a misdirect. Myself, Muscledup, Nance and Eric Masaitis got off track, but luckily I heard the screams from the people behind us first, turned around and hauled ass up the final mile hill,  hell bent on the holy grail of the overall win. I’ll take it. Time to defend my title. 

I knew my chances for the repeat victory would be slim. I mean when a 190 lb 46 year old  albino sasquatch wins a race, it’s pretty much a red flag for trophy hunters all around. I knew Dr. David “don’t call me giovahny” Giovannini would be on hand, so that definitely put a wrench in my plans. We were trading off in the head-to-head last winter but apparently G’s Peloton plan is working like a charm. I haven’t been close to taking him down in months. Plus, I did Tunnel to Towers the night before, so the legs would probably be a little wrecked.

I got there my typical hour early and tried to size up the competition. Drew W was on hand and he has been on a long injury hiatus, so no idea what he might throw down. Nance was nowhere to be seen, and Muscledup continued his MIA status. I warmed up with Jen Davis and David. On the way back we saw Sara Ashton, 6 months post partum and already fresh off a Blue Shoe beat down at Justin Pepper. Ruh roh.Time to get chicked again.

At the start I knew the game plan would essentially be the same as T2T. The course profile is actually pretty similar – screaming fast mile and a half followed by a torture chamber climb back to the start. It sets up well for me since I have a hard time getting started and do well on late hills. But yeah, the last mile of this race is pretty much straight up.

The gun goes off and immediately we are all flying down the opening hill. Some kid takes the lead, presumably XC, though he looks pretty young. I feel like I’m being conservative on the pacing but somehow I’m right behind David, Sara and the kid. Jen is lurking nearby and there is some dude on my shoulder matching me step for step. The course flattens out a bit toward the mile marker and I let the overgrown monkey surge a step or two ahead. Turns out it’s Parker Roof. Dude was a beast in high school and he must be back training again. We hit the mile together in 6:02. This is pretty fast for me but more restarined than the night before when I got carried away chasing Ed , Jen and Chris Branham in a 5:54 opener. Surprisingly I don’t feel like death, which had been the main feeling of the last 3 races I’ve done, all in the past 8 days. Giovannini and Sara have surged ahead by this point. Around 1.5 miles we hit the turn from last year’s misdirect, this time extremely well marked with the incorrect route blocked with a police car. All uphill from here. I power ahead and manage to shake Parker for the first time, and I guess the kid fell off the pace too. Mile 2 is significantly slower in 6:18 but expected with the last half uphill. I do know once you hit the 2 mile mark the hill climbing gets worse. I start charging up Mount Camden as hard as I can go. There’s that death feeling! I’m closing the gap somewhat on Sara and David but it’s just not happening fast enough. At some point I just focus on finishing fast. I’m a little afraid of getting Blue Shoed by Parker, but luckily there’s a lone very vocal woman in a pickleball shirt cheering, and I can hear that Parker, or whoever is behind me, is a ways back. The end of this race has a bunch of gradual turns and every one feels like it’s the last before the finish. Fortunately I warmed up on this hill and marked one of those little free libraries as the last turn. I finally catch sight of it and engage the headless chickenry. Dr. G is not too far ahead but I have no chance to catch him. I crash through  in 19:24, 3rd across the finish line.  I’m still well off my spring times, but moving in the right direction. I’ll take it. 

In the overall, Sara Ashton smoked us all in 19:06 to take her second consecutive win. Jen Davis placed 2nd in her 5th race in 8 days. Kara Stevens rocked a sub 7 pace en route to a 3rd place finish. David Giovannini took home first male , with the Sasquatch and GRIT royal family member Parker Roof second and third. In male masters, Drew Williams, Whitney Keen and Anthony Godfrey took the podium, while Cruz Figeuroa, Sharon Cole and Melody Kreiling won among the women.

Female age groupers: Sarah Hannon won the 30-34. Catherine Sostak took  3rd in the 35-39. Deanna Rennick won her first AG glory ever in taking 2nd in the 45-49 – CONGRATS DEANNA! Wendy Homeyer won 3rd. Clara Beaudet and Gretchen Lambert went 1-2 in the 50-54. Helene Lipe was 3rd in the 65-69. Lynn Grimes won the 70+, 2nd overall by age grade!

Male age groupers: Thomas Crowley won the 35-39 in a shade over 21 minutes. Justin eyedocrunner Campbell took the 40-44. Michael Beaudet was 2nd in the 50-54, while Prez Roy Shelley, Joe Roof and Joey Swearingen provided a CRC sweep in the 55-59. Clay Ham was tops in his new 60-64 age group, crushing another 21 minute 5k, while Dave Hale was 2nd. CRC legends Alex Ponomarev, Leeds Barroll and Pete Poore swept the podium in the 70+.

Other notable finishers included Will Rowan, Phil Smith, Gabby Swearingen, Rusty Painter, Hou-Yin Chang, Nicole Charlton, Ron Lipe, and Maria Pray.

Tragically, my duties as official promotional cosplayer/spokesmodel for GRIT endurance were put on hold earlier this month to attend a friend’s wedding. I was aghast that he had the audacity to plan his nuptials on the same day as my annual run as the world’s largest leprechaun in Camden, leaving me in attention withdrawal for the remainder of the month. But there was always True to the Brew on March 26. Or was there? The Palmetto 200, which I have run since its inception in 2010 was the same weekend. But as it turned out, “El Capitan” Brian Clyburn finally decided to call it a day and put a fork in Van on the Run. I briefly flirted with the idea of joining another team, but sometimes my mind would drift to cold, stiff 3 am 6:50 pace runs in the pitch black dark, and I decided it was ok to let it go.

So, I was in for True to the Brew Run on the Palmetto Trail from Pomaria to Peak, it’s a trail run that’s an easy transition to the dirt for road racers, and serves to promote/support the Palmetto Conservation Foundation. Since it’s built on an old railroad bed, it’s pretty much flat as a pancake and straight as an arrow. It’s got a great finish on the picturesque old Peak railroad bridge and of course, beer at the finish, with a band and post-race food. And as always, great swag from GRIT’s mastermind Erin Roof. No 16-98 age groups here. That being said, I still have trauma from this race, detailed in the Tour de Blue shoes account of “TRUE TO THE POO” a few years ago. The day I prepared for double dipping two races less than a half hour apart, but my colon didn’t get the memo. It’s been three years, but I still wouldn’t go under bridge number 10. The remnants of unspeakable horrors might still be there. 

Despite this race selling out again, I was thinking there might be trophies to be had, as there were some competing races on Tour. Race for the Cure had a 5k on the Cold Winter’s Day course in Forest Acres while the Camden Revolutionary Run had a 5k and half out there. I knew Greer was at Camden, but my other arch nemesis Giovannini would definitely be at TTTB. 

Since this is a point-to-point race, there are some logistical issues with the start and finish. The best way now is just to use the drop bags and shuttles. What were 15 passenger vans are now huge charter buses, so no more waiting in line. But I still like doing the double car thing, so Tracy agreed to meet me in Peak in exchange for a ride from the finish in my old Pilot. The Pilot would definitely hold more people than the fancy Infiniti, though with the price of dealing with decade old goldfish crackers in the creases of the way back. 

We got to the start line with plenty of time to spare. For me to warm up and the injured Jedi to watch Netflix under a warm blanket in her car. We all have our different race prep. I was a little nervous about my choice of wearing the VAPORS to a trail race, but like I said this course is  completely non-technical and more like a straight, flat dirt road. I was of course hypersensitive to the POO situation but managed to skip the portapotty lines for the decidedly less than pristine but zero wait confines of the Wilson grocery bathroom. SHH… don’t tell anyone. 

Walking up to the start there is no Shrum or any other elite-ish looking people, so the trophy forecast looks fairly bright. Do I have a shot at the holy grail? Not likely in a 10k, but the chances weren’t completely zero. Beating David would be the obvious challenge, plus these trail races can bring some out of town superfit granola dads. Also, Parker Roof and his dad Joe were on hand to actually race this year, instead of volunteer. Parker used to kick my arse on the regular when he was at Chapin HS, but he’s not running xc anymore, so maybe he could get a fat old man beatdown.

With the start, I barrel out of the gates pretty hard and I’m leading the race for the first quarter mile. I have a momentary grandiose moment until Giovannini suddenly bursts forth and leaves me in the dust. And keeps on going. Um, ok. There are two other random dudes in my vicinity. One of the guys surges ahead but the other is hanging on my back and side, riding the wake of the 18-wheeler blasting down the highway. The VAPORS seem to be fine, but since it’s soft ground, they aren’t snapping back like they do on the roads. I hit mile 1 in 6:20, so not too shabby. This course is a touch longer than 10k and I’ve never sniffed a sub 42 much less a sub 40, but I’ve been running really well recently, so I decided to trust it and hold the pace. 

But it’s hard. I’ve run the course many times, but I just have trouble making out landmarks for distance. My brain is all about USATF certified course maps and splits, and this scenery and forest is more made for people named Schuster and Stroud. Plus, third place dude has gapped me quite a bit, and I can’t hear anything behind me. I’m out there blasting away for 4th place. David is in another time zone by now and I can barely see him, so that wasn’t happening. But maybe I can catch number 3, and hey, 4th place means masters will definitely be mine. I rattle off a bunch of splits right around 6:30. I’d like to go a little faster, but legs are probably heavy from my constant tennis-ing and recent 20 milers prepping for that race in Hopkinton next month. My main fear is getting Aufuldished or Parkered, but with the silence around me, I’m thinking there’s a decent gap. I don’t dare look back though. Ashley Holman is at the halfway point with her kids and I try to look pretty for her camera, but I’m sure I’ve failed as I always do. Karmic payback for too many sweaty iPhone Facebook dumps. I kind of drift of for a bit, my legs ingrained into this pace I’ve chosen and I’m too afraid to ramp it up this far from the finish. I finally break out of my fog when we hit the underpass, which I know is less than a mile to the bridge. The trail suddenly takes you down and under a road with a few sharp turns, and a nasty tiny incline back on the other side. I’ve managed to close the gap on number 3, but I’m thinking he might have heard the heavy footed sasquatch rumbling on the underpass and ensuing bridge. I try to ramp it up but he’s matching my effort pretty well. I hit mile 6 in 6:33, so not too much hemorrhaging on the underpass segment. With the bridge coming into view ahead of us, I realize I’ve run out of real estate in my attempt to catch this guy. But hopefully I can at least sub 40 it on my Garmin. One last sub 6 pace blast across the bridge and I finish in 40:39. I’m pretty happy with it, as it’s a big PR for me on the course. Garmin distance is 6.33 miles, and the best part, 39:57 for the 10k on the watch. YESSS. 4th overall, 1st masters (and actually legit this time, with no superfit 55 year old kicking my ass).

The afterparty of this race is of course amazing, with Craft and Draft serving up beers and Exec Director Mary Roe from Palmetto Conservation making fresh grilled egg/cheese sandwiches and hot dogs. They had a live band (The Biggest Wave) which awesomely and unironically played Gerry Rafferty’s 1978 classic Baker Street, complete with guitar matching the sax solo note for note. Nice work, gentlemen. Overall awards were nice yeti like drink containers and age groups got a logo beanie. I may be biased, but it was definitely another GRIT success!

In the overall, David “don’t call me geo vanni” Giovanninidestroyed me and the rest of the field en route to a 38:58 victory. Kyle Logue, last year’s winner, took 2nd in 39:19. Third place and blue shoes outkicker was Zack Fuller in 40:03. 

Women’s winner was Shannon Godby, who decided to take 3 years off then take 1st masters and 1st overall in consecutive weeks. Kara Stevens was 2nd and Veronica Watson 3rd. 

Masters winners included the first lady of Van on the Run, Jen Clyburn, in 1st, with her running partner Julie McKinnon 2nd and Ellen Adams third. Male masterswinners included Brendan Holman in 2nd with a big PR and Ed Aufuldish 3rd.

Women’s Age Group Honor Roll: Eva Greenberg was 1st in the 30-34. Stephanie “Stevie Dee” Dukes won the 45-49, with Brie McGrievy 2nd. Joyce Welch is getting back on the race train and took the 50-54 age group.

Men’s Age Group Honor Roll: Parker Roof took the 20-24 age group win and 5th overall. Brian Aplin trampled the weak and hurdled the dead en route to 2nd in the 30-34. Thomas Outlaw was 3rd in the 35-39. Jeff Godby and Rob Yerger were 1-2 in the 45-49. Michael Jensen was 2nd in the 50-54. Roy Shelley, Joe Roof and Frank Seier pulled a CRC sweep in the 55-59. Fellow president emeritus Rick Gibbons won the 60-64. Wade Bauer took the 65-69, while Leeds Barroll won the 70+. 

Other notable finishers (with a great turnout of the RWB group) : Matt Mcgreivy, Rich Welch, Tracy Tisdale, Gretchen Lambert, Sara Wilcox, Teresa Harrington, Sue Porter, Jessalyn Smith, Dianne Steadman, Bertha Woehl, Son Nguyen, Bridgette Honor, Teresa Shelton, Michael and Clara Beaudet, Melinda Waldrop, Mackenzie Wilson, Deanna Rennick, Maria Pray, Harry Strick, Rusty Painter, and Kim La. Nikki Barthelemy and Chris Beattie competed virtually.

At some point in time, many years ago, Erin Roof cajoled me into running as a giant rabbit for the YMCA Bunny Hop 5k. Though I was initially hesitant, apparently my insatiable need for attention overrode any sense of dignity and I ended up loving it. Plus, what is better than blue shoeing people in normal race attire when you can do it as an enormous anthropomorphized animal. Truth be told, the bunny suit is just a giant onesie and I could run fairly freely in it, so I was able to get down to a 19:36 in the suit, a moment of pride for myself and possibly shame for the ones around me. Sadly, my one chance at bringing down Brandenburg as the bunny ended just a few seconds short. I do love the finish pics with me in the background though. Fast forward a few years, and my race cosplay has ranged from Santa, a pharaoh, a viking, a leprechaun, and even a couple of years as the mascot dog for See Spot Run. But by far the least attractive of my suits is the turkey. This monstrosity gives me a faux beer gut, giant wings and tail, and a red skull cap complete with eyes and a gobbler. It is hideous. And awesome. My maiden voyage in the turkey suit was in 2019, where I managed a respectable 20:09 and crushed the poor spirits of Jessa Wigington and Ivanka Tolan. I can only imagine the turkeying helped make them into the sub 19 runners they are today.

Of course COVID canceled the 2020 race but I was back and ready to go for the 2021 Shandon Turkey Trot and Burn 5k. The race, previously known as the Shandon Turkey Trot, has been around for decades. It was on the brink of going defunct when Erin and GRIT picked up the race and revived it. 2019 was a big success with a nice crowd and the return of the awesome turkey trophies of years past. Flat and fast course, plus, free beer at backstreets afterward. What’s not to love?

I got to the race my standard hour early and really struggled with the turkey outfit. Yeah, it was more cumbersome then I remembered. The faux gut is ridiculous and the tail feather had detached so it was falling down. Oh well. At least I could pull up the suit like a dress to make it easier to run and of course, destroy the portapotty as usual. I did a quick warmup with Ed, Christa, Liz Locke and Tracy. Legs felt like absolute death. I guess racing for the 5th time in 7 days will do that to you. Recent blue shoe victims Greer and JB were on hand, but I sure wasn’t going to catch them this time. My goal was to squeak out a sub 20.

I strolled up to the start line and quickly got in a photo portfolio shoot from the race photog and a very enthusiastic B106 DJ. Ms. NC for America has nothing on my pageant poses. B106 girl quickly dropped me when she laid eyes on Muscledup runner, who was apparently more attractive than a 7 foot turkey. Go figure. The start line had a bunch of cross country studs so hopefully they would not let Greer get too many overall points. Rob “THE YERG” Yerger was in full Santa gear as promised in a metaphorical Christmas chasing away of Thanksgiving theme. The start was chaotic as usual with everyone throwing down hard on Woodrow Street. My legs were definitely giving me the WTF feeling. What’s worse was that my SPIbelt wasn’t tight and was bouncing around out of rhythm with my turkey gut. DAMMIT. I finally managed to tighten it while trying to maintain 5k speed. I was already in full debbie downer mode about my ability to run fast, when I heard two dudes say “that turkey isn’t going to last 5 minutes like that” . Oh, it’s on now. I speed up but damned if Silent H isn’t hauling ass with me, along with Seth Lapic. I’m thinking I’m going significantly slower than usual, but my Garmin gives me 6:11 at mile 1 on Heyward St right before Ott.

Mile 2 is pretty much the same terrain but the all out throw down at Sleigh Bell and the 11 miles on Thanksgiving are putting a hurting on my legs. Cardio is good but no spring in my step, even with the VAPORS. I don’t even look at the mile 2 split on Wilmot. As we turn on Shandon on the way back home I finally catch Dr. Lapic and tell him sub 20 is within his reach. Apparently a 19:59 is a rite of passage for all Columbia psychiatrists. Rounding the corner back onto Heyward I surprisingly catch Regan, but he’s feeling the pain of this week’s race schedule too. I’m pretty gassed but even in full turkey regalia, the last mile is my favorite. I’m throwing down hard by the time we hit Woodrow again, and I’m trying my best to catch FAST EDDIE but he’s blasting it out pretty good too. Up ahead I see Greer and JB locked in an absolute shoulder to shoulder sprint. I can’t even tell who won from my vantage point. Finally I see the clock come into view and it’s in the low 19s. One last blast, complete with a few wing flaps at the line, and I cross at 19:30. I’m pretty jacked about the time, and certainly a turkey PR.

Overall: Jack Stacy took the win in 16:41 followed by fellow xc dudes JC Blackwelder and David Wiliams. Christa IRON MAIDEN Collins took the ladies’ win in another impressive 18:52 over Caroline McNeill and Liz Locke. Masters winners were two out of towners in Herbert Krabel and Joel Stacy, while Steve Greer edged out JB for 3rd. Strong work, muscled up, no pun intended. Barbara Brandenburg saved face for the racing power couple with a 3rd place masters win. 

Age Group Honor Roll, women: Sarah Hudgins showed running is in the genes with a first place in the 20-24 with a strong 21:50. Lindsey Hendren may be in LA but can throw down some fast times in SC with a 22:13 and 1st in the 30-34. Lauren Lapic and Kara Stevens completed the podium, with Allison Sweeney 4th. Megan Duffy had a full race schedule this week as well and took 1st in the 35-39. Bridgette MZSWEETIEPIE Honor won the 40-44 in just seconds over 2nd and 3rd,with Jessalyn Smith 4th. Angie Thames was 2nd in the 45-49, while Shenequa Coles took 2nd in the 50-54 and Tracy Tisdale 4th. Carol Wallace, Melody Kreiling, Lisa Smarr and Teresa Harrington rocked a competitive 60-64 group. Lynn Grimes notched a 25:58 at 69 to take the 65-69 group in another 80+ percent AG grade performance. Sharon Sherbourne was champ of the 70+. 

Age group honor roll, men: Regan Freeman got turkeyed but pulled out a nice 19:41 for 1st in 25-29. Ian “don’t call me loff-lyn” Loughlin took 2nd in 23:50. Seth Lapic got his sub 20 with a 19:52 and 2nd in the 30-34. Antjuan Seawright won the 35-39 with a nice sub 22. Yerg edged out Justin Campbell for 2-3 in the 40-44, with Dr. John Baker just behind. At least he had another epic blue shoeing of Lindsey Hendren to make him feel better. I managed a 1st in the 45-49 and the best turkey trophy ever, proudly displayed on my desk. Randy SILENT H Hrechko captured yet another sub 20 and the 50-54 win. I guess body pump and 25 miles per week works. Jeff Brandenburg, Ed Aufuldish and Frank Seier swept the 55-59 podium with Clay Ham just behind. Dave Hale had a winnah winnah chicken dinnah by placing 3rd in the self-proclaimed “geezer jock” division of 60-64. Pete O’Boyle crushed the 65-69 division by 7 minutes, with Leeds coming in 4th just before his 70th birthday. The ageless Alex Ponomarev placed 3rd in the 70+.

Other notable finishers include: Jennifer Tudor, Laura Hudgens, Ron Hagell, Pam Griffin, Paul Laymon, Will Rowan, Greta Dobe, Jessica Weaver, Sue Weaver, Amy Hildrreth, Gretchen Lambert, Chateau Mangaroo, Pete Poore, Phil Smith, Melinda Petruzzi, Bob Petruzzi, Reese Petruzzi, Kat Hudgins, Joey Swearingen, Michael Jensen, Heather Hawn, Jessalyn Smith, Missy Caughman, Wendy Homeyer, Mike Hudgins, Kana Rahman, Gabriella Swearingen, Melinda Waldrop, Kim La, Ken Lowden, Kristen Loughlin and Margie Shelburg. Also great to see CRC legend Birgit Spann at the race, visiting from Germany!

So, a mere 10 hours after Tunnel to Towers, I was up and getting ready to finish off my CRC quadruple challenge with the Springdale 5k. In addition to being GRIT endurance’s unofficial spokesmodel and superfan, Springdale and I go way back to 2009. They used to have it at sunset and on the horse racetrack. All I remember was the grass was crazy long, it was August and 90+ degrees at race time, and I headless chickened Chad Long to a 23 minute finish. But there was beer, so that was cool. Ah the good old days. Erin and GRIT took over the race a few years ago and produced the awesome horseshoe trophies and the legendary post race waffles. I think I’ve done this race almost every year, save for that time I decided to dive on the rocks in Hawaii in 2013. 

Getting to the race an hour early, I am pretty much wrecked. I had another 2 beers post T2T and I’m a combo of sleep deprived, sore as hell and dehydrated. But hey, sounds like a good time to run a hilly 5k! Did I mention hills? There’s basically one. You run down it at the start for a mile and a half, then back up. Pretty simple. If there’s one race you do not want to start too hard in, this is it. That being said, it’s pretty tough not to want to freefall in the first half. 

Showing up I was glad to see Jen Davis avoided the ER the night before, though apparently she thought running another hard 5k would be good recovery for her lungs. I would be critical, but here I was half hungover and sore and asking for more pain. There’s a reason we are in mental health.

I see Michael Nance is making a rare race appearance for this one, as well as Steve “@muscleduprunner” Greer. I’m always afraid he’s going to kick my ass and I’ll end up being mentioned on one of his inspirational insta videos. I do a mile warmup with Jen and get a taste for that finishing climb. News flash: it doesn’t taste good. I chug some water and make use of Springdale’s glam portapotty, complete with sink and flushing toilet. Noice. Apparently, I’m a bit anxious too because Johnny Deal’s photo drone buzzes my tower and I jump like there’s an air raid taking place.

At the start I’m not feeling super confident but, hey, let’s get the pain over with. With the gun, I latch on to muscledup and here we all go flying down the opening hill. Ugh, my legs are not liking this one bit, but I need to at least be in shouting range of the leaders. Turns out it’s basically one dude and Greer initially, then Nance comes by about a half mile in. Some kid is trying to ride the Sasquatch bus, but eventually he can’t handle the pace of a 190 lb bus rolling downhill. The course finally levels out a bit around the mile mark, which comes through in 6:01. Yikes, that’s probably a touch fast. At least it’s not that ridiculous 5:48 from last night. 

We go blasting ahead. Lead guy (Eric Masaitis) has gapped us a bit and it’s me, muscledup and Nance in a pack. Suddenly we approach an intersection. Having done this race so many times, I feel like we need to turn. There’s a cop there but he’s sitting in his car. I go about 10 meters past, when I suddenly realize there are no right turns in sight, and I hear yelling behind me. I stop and see Jen and everyone else making that turn behind me. DAMMIT. I turn around and start trying to rev the engine back up again. I manage to catch the girl who was yelling, who tells me JUST GO STRAIGHT, I LIVE HERE. I’ll take her word for it. I manage to pass Jen , but there’s some dude with an American flag arm tat and lightning shirt up ahead now in first place. I don’t know this guy but he is going pretty hard. Finally we hit mile 2 , 6:27. That’s including a stop and turnaround, so it is what it is. And my oxygen deprived brain isn’t sure how much extra distance was involved in the misdirect. What I do know is that I’ve pulled alongside lightning shirt and pass him just after my Garmin split. I’ve got about a mile to go, all uphill… but it’s probably for all the marbles. And that’s all it takes. The mere whisp of the thought of an overall win enters my brain and I start hauling ass like there’s no tomorrow. But yeah, did I mention it was all uphill? I’m in a world of hurt the whole time, and I am sure at any moment lead guy is going to catch back up. And every turn on this road feels like it should be the finish. But it’s gotten nice and quiet, and mile 3 (6:11) chirps back loudly as I hit one more turn and see the finish clock. One more surge of adrenaline and I blast onto the gravel driveway and hit the tape in 19:22, just absolutely gassed. I’ve tried to avoid the post race flop but I lay out full HYC style for this one. Of course, Erin sends daughter Sarah over to fully photodocument my ugliness. Hopefully those pics never see the light of day, but I feel like they most certainly will at some point.

To add to the Renaissance tragedy scene, lightning shirt finishes just behind Eric Masaitis (leader at the misdirect) and proceeds to puke right next to me. Perfect. Johnny Deal’s finish pic is priceless.

OK , so there’s a little shame in winning a misdirected race, but shame has never prevented me from basking in the glory of an overall win. And hey, somebody has to finish first. I know Eric ran low 18 at one of the Saluda Shoals races so I will assume he would’ve beaten me straight up. It would have been an interesting throwdown with Nance, Greer and me though. 

In the women’s overall, which was unaffected by the misdirect, Jen Davis took the win in 20:24, with Nicole Hill 2nd and Amy Faulkenberry 3rd, all under 21 minutes. Jim Carleton aka lightning shirt was 3rd male in 20:14 

In masters, Whitney Keen, Michael Nance and Steve Greer swept the podium for the guys, with Kerry Dean, Melinda Moon and Shelly Sloan winning among the women.

Age groupers MALE: Antjuan Seawright was 2nd in the 35-39, Pavel Mosneaguta was 3rd in the 40-44. Ivery Baldwin crushed a 21:31 to take the 45-49, while Chad Long was 2nd. Prez Roy Shelley was 1st in the 50-54, with Brent Stogner 2nd. Phil Smith was 2nd in the 55-59. Jim Williams won the 60-64. Peter O’Boyle and Leeds Barroll went 1-2 in the 65-69. Alex Ponomarev and Bill Iskrzak went 1-2 in the 70+

WOMEN: Catherine Sostak won the 35-39. Clara Nance and Gretchen Lambert went 2-3 in the 45-49. Tracy Tisdale edged out Sharon Cole for the 50-54 crown. Heather Herndon was 3rd in the 50-54. Melody Kreiling was 2nd in the 60-64. Lynn Grimes crushed the competition with a 26:07 to take the 65-69 win. Leeds checked the age graded times and her 79.9 percentile was tops among all runners in the race. WAY TO GO LYNN!!

https://runsignup.com/Race/Results/77754#resultSetId-273112;perpage:100

The Sweat it Out 5k has been a regular on the Tour de Blue shoes since its inception in 2015. It was founded by Jamie Duke, whose son Nick suffers from a rare condition, Hypohidrotic Ectodermal Dysplasia, which makes it unable for him to sweat. Proceeds from the race go to benefit the foundation that promotes awareness and research for Nick’s condition and other similar conditions. Shannon Godby helped get the race started and then Erin Roof, aka GRIT endurance, took over a few years back. Other than it being hot (it is in June in SC) there isn’t much bad you can say about the race. A free beer at packet pickup, flat/fast/unique/certified course, original Ernest Lee paintings as awards, Chick fil-a biscuits at the finish, this one checks all the boxes. And I’m not just saying that as the unofficial “elite” GRIT “spokesmodel”. Quotation marks definitely needed.

With the aforementioned free beer at packet pickup at the Hunter Gatherer Hangar, I was of course on board for that. As in keeping with my many alcohol-influenced race decisions, somewhere amid the IPAs I stated the rather lofty goal of trying to track down another 18:59. While I had cracked 19 a few times already this season, those times were aided by it being at least 30 degrees cooler than the projected temps for Saturday morning. Plus, the Sweat it Out course is definitely the full 3.11, judging from my Garmin from previous races. Though I had gone low 19 in last year’s virtual showdown with Sean F@$# Higgins, it was May then and freakishly cool that morning. I’m not sure I had gone below 19:20 officially on the course. But hey, since Columbia has decided to bless us with an early start to its oven-like summer, I was already getting some heat acclimation in. The Yerg invited me to pace his virtual Sweat it Out (he had to work Saturday), so I had gotten a chance to do a race pace workout in the heat. News flash, it still sucks.

I open the door on race morning, and sure enough it’s a freaking steam room. The race always tells you to “sweat for Nick”. Well, 5 minutes outside I was sweating for Nick and about 3 other people. Gotta love our famously hot summer. Silent H and I do a warmup on the course and apparently just a 2-mile slog jog has me completely drenched. I was definitely not feeling it, and I knew all the big dogs would be out at this race. Sure enough, Strictly Running and Team Utopia South seemed to bring out most of their teams. Ediberto “Trackstar Eddie” Crisanto always comes out for this one, so nobody’s going to catch him. Newly minted masters runner Justin Bishop is back racing again and destroying us old dudes. Westley McKinney and Jason Dimery were on hand as well so that pretty much eliminated my podium chances. And all the fast ladies were here. Jen Lybrand and MC from SR as well as Jen Davis, Ivanka, Christa, Ashley and Brittany from TUS. With Higgins off to Germany and Drew saving up for the Cottonmouth Beerlay, I was hoping to claim the masters crown (assuming Bishop gets on the overall podium), with Ed and Randy as my main competition.

After a prayer and the anthem (kudos to the young girl who crushed it a capella) we were suddenly off. I wasn’t quite ready for the confetti and the start, and I felt something fall off me but didn’t know what (turns out it was my sunglasses). But when you’re shooting for 18:59 there’s no room for you to go back and check. Ain’t nobody got time for that. The start feels like a kick in the stomach. Everybody is out there killing it and I can already feel the sauna like air filling up my lungs. Ugh. I essentially divide the SIO course into three loops, Prince Wales, Macon and Saye Cut. There is an ever so slight incline to Prince Wales and honestly I’m feeling like death not even a half mile in. I can see Justin, Eddie separate from the field, with Dimery and Westley just behind. Ivanka is a few paces ahead with some random guy I don’t recognize. There feels like a stampede behind me though. I finish the first loop then get dumped out on to Galway drive where I see Jordan and Shawanna spectating. As I enter the Macon rectangle loop I feel like I’m going too slow and honestly wonder if I should drop out. That’s when my watch bleeps out a 6:01, so that probably explains the pain. When you spend most of your days jogging 9 minute pace, a 6 flat feels like a punch in the face.

OK just hang in there. As per usual, my body tends to chill out in the second mile and recognize the weekly abuse I put it through. It feels a little better to make the turn and finish the second loop. No one’s passed me at least and I’m making up some ground on Ivanka. Saye Cut is an out and back on the same road, so it gives you a sense of where everyone is. Eddie has suddenly dropped Justin and is already heading back just as I enter the last loop. Justin comes cruising by and I can tell he’s enjoying this about as much as I am. Read: not very much. Just before the turnaround I manage to pass Ivanka, with unknown guy just ahead. I make the turn and I’ll be damned if there aren’t a ton of people crushing it out there. Ed , Christa and Jen are just behind me with Jen Lybrand not too far back. MC and H are right behind them. Damn, this is going to be a fast race. Mile 2 is 6:05, so still ever so slightly faster than goal pace. Not much room for error though.

It’s a psychological boost to finish the third loop, but you are most definitely not in the clear. It’s about ¾ of a mile back to the finish with the only real hill on the course at about 2.5 miles in. I’m feeling pretty gassed. Unknown guy, later identified as Stephen Hicks, is holding me off just a few paces ahead. I’m trying to keep up pace but as we hit the hill it both slows us way down. I’m trying to lift my legs and power through, but the 78 degrees and humidity are crushing my soul. Turning back on Olde Knight Parkway towards the home stretch, I start having my typical internal debate whenever I have someone in my radar. Rational Alex says “OK, its fine, no need to kill yourself to take out this guy, he’s probably not even in your age group, why are you so damn competitive”. And then dark passenger comes in “TAKE HIM DOWN HE MUST BE BLUE SHOED DO IT DO IT DO IT”. I’m waging this war in my psyche while gasping air and breathing down poor Stephen’s neck. The dude is going to have some serious nightmares. One last turn to the finish and I can see the clock around 18:40ish. It’s going to be close but, having run just a few 5ks, I can tell the 18:59 is probably not going to happen. But seeing the red clock readout makes the primitive monkey brain take over and I launch into full headless chicken mode, pulling alongslide Mr. Hicks for a second and then blasting the last 20 meters to edge him out. 19:04 officially, 5 th overall. I had been so good about avoiding a finish line collapse recently, but I went down like a sack of potatoes. HYC would be proud. But hey, it was worth it. Sure enough, Hicks is 43 and was competing for my precious masters trophy. And thanks to Erin, and possibly Ron Hagell, judging by the video, for saving my fallen sunglasses from the stampede.

In the overall, Eddie won easily in 17:14. Justin is back in the 17s with a 17:49 for 2nd, edging out Dimery in 17:56 in a reversal of their Foot Pursuit 5k showdown. They ended up doing the awards differently, giving Justin the masters win instead of overall 2 nd , with Westley taking 3 rd overall in 18:04 and Steve Hicks 3 rd masters in 19:06. The women’s overall featured an insane performance by Christa Collins, who had never broken 20 minutes before. She ended up destroying her old PR in 19:18 to take the win. Close behind was Ivanka in 19:30 and Jen Davis in 19:35. Jen Lybrand also crushed her PR en route to her first sub 20 in 19:54. Rounding out the women’s masters podium was MC Cox in 20:14 and Colleen Quarles in 22:15. So cool to see such a fast race by all these ladies.

Age Group Honor Roll:

Women: Ashley Holman and Brittany Jones were 1-2 in the 35-39. Sara Bonner took the 40-44 by a mere 9 minutes. Stephanie “STEVIE DEE” Dukes won the 45-49. Missy Caughman won the 50-54, with Renee McCormick taking the 55-59. Lynn Grimes, Sue Porter and Helene Lipe swept the 65-69.

Men: Regan Freeman was 3^rd in the 20-24, Fellow psychiatrist Seth Lapic rocked a 21:29 to win the 30-34. Silent H Randy Hrechko and Michael Beaudet went 1-2 in the 50-54.Ed Aulfuldish, Lary Jourdain and Eliere Tolan topped a super fast 55-59. Jim Williams and Patrick McCormick were 1-2 in the 60-64.Pete O’ Boyle, Pete Poore and Ron Lipe swept the 65-69 podium. John Houser and birthday boy Ron Hagell took the 70+.

Other familiar finishers in the results include Joey and Gabriella Swearingen, Jessica and Susan Weaver, Rebekah Robertson, Mark Gallagher, Phil Smith, Will Rowan, Gretchen Lambert, Maria Pray, Kat Hudgins, Greta Dobe, Kana Rahman, Kerry Stubbs, Jennifer and Jason Norris and Wendy Homeyer.

Virtual finishers include: Rob Yerger, Charles Seastrunk, Rocky Soderberg, Harry Strick, Melinda Waldrop, and Dianne Steadman. Lynn Grimes and Kerry Stubbs appeared to have double dipped the virtual and the live race!

All the winners went home with Ernest Lee paintings and lots of prizes were given out at the finish, plus Chick Fil-A biscuits. Another great race by Jamie and Erin!

https://runsignup.com/Race/Results/41801#resultSetId-256588;perpage:100

All photos below from Tracy (Jedi Runner Photography)

In 2009, in what seemingly was the prehistoric days of social media, I was a regular on the “SUB 22 minute 5k” message board of Runner’s World magazine. We used to trade race reports back and forth, and for me, that eventually became Tour de Blue Shoes. One of the other regulars, a “MrSig”, started talking about a new relay race in South Carolina, going from Columbia to Folly Beach and wanted to know if anyone was interested. Although the board had people from all over the world, it turns out MrSig and I were actually living in the same city. Fortunately, “Mr Sig” was actually Brian Clyburn and not some crazed Chris Hansen/dateline type creeper, and team Van on the Run was born. 

We started (2010) as a hodge podge group of 12 randoms thrown together. All noobs to running, and definitely to relays. We committed just about all the dumb mistakes you can make in the early years, doing stuff like having a driver (robbing your van of precious space), booking a hotel room (80 bucks out the window and hotel water poisoning), and not eating regular food (hallucinations and the walksies for me at 3 am in Huger, SC).  But by trial and error and Brian’s relentless recruiting, we were honed into a team of relay beasts, culminating in the 2015 and 2016 back-to-back Palmetto 200 overall wins. Since that time, people noticed our trophy hunt and there’s been some teams way faster than us. But we still have our trophies and the legacy of one of the few remaining (maybe only?) teams that have been there every year. Even in the COVID year of 2020, Brian had us go out and run our legs virtually. I’ll never forget my half marathon’s worth of relay legs on the USC track and Shandon. Good times. We did technically get the overall win in that one too.

In 2019, the last time the relay was actually held, I made the egregious mistake of joining the Van on the Run Ultra team, with only 6 people. Somewhere on my 6^th leg, I think I made the vow never to do one of these again . But I signed on again with our full team (12) with the thought that we were fielding another low stress, easygoing version that ran alongside the ultra version in 2019. Yeah, that was a big nope. Brian had reshuffled the deck and produced a lineup of all 40+ age group beasts that was going to go after the masters title. Doh.

As mentioned in previous blog posts, Brian’s P200 spreadsheet is the stuff of legend. It has exact expected paces, time leaving each exchange zone and time coming in to the next one. Previous Blue ridge relay versions even had quotients of difficulty figured in. While an amazing work of art and math, the subtext of this document is definitely: WE WILL KNOW WHEN YOU SUCK i.e not hitting your pace.

And so, on the heels of an epic suckage of a marathon the previous Saturday, Brian let me know that the roughly 18 miles of relay that I would be doing the following Friday would be at 6:50 pace. While most people recommend a few weeks off after a marathon, I was going to be running a 9 , 6 and 3 miler at sub 7 pace in less than 24 hours on virtually no sleep. Again, good times. I half considered bailing, but pulling out of a relay is like jabbing 11 other people in the heart, not to mention raising the ire of our captain. Believe me, I’ve been there. My 2012 Blue Ridge relay recruit bailed at the last second, and I had to do a fourth leg in the mountains of NC with little food and no sleep. I couldn’t do it to these guys.

Due to COVID, they cut down the number of teams this year, and they had to make do with way fewer volunteers. Some of the exchange zones weren’t available, so they modified the course to start at Santee State Park (near Elloree and Santee). Basically we would do a loop up towards Columbia before turning back towards Charleston. 

As mentioned, Brian figured our best chance at trophy hunting was to field an all masters (40+) team. Brian and Joel joined myself as the sole individuals with the poor decision making skills to have run in all 11 previous P200s. Brian’s wife Jen was on board as our only female. She claimed to be off her training, but I witnessed her gut out a sub 8 seven miler after vomiting all night in 2010, so her toughness and speed are not to be questioned. Harbison trail runners Bill Seibers (who suffered along with me in the 2019 ultra debacle) , Dean Schuster (my trail running doppelganger nemesis) and Matt Stanek were on board. In Van 2, the “kids” van:  Darrell THE CODE Brown, prone to erratic van driving, Tourette’s like obscenities and lots of complaining; Dan Carter, master of the four miler and who has yet to ever run a mile over 8 minutes and Rob THE YERG Yerger , whose superpower is sleeping under any conditions. We also had two new recruits, Nate and Paul, guys from the F3 community in Lexington. They were no relay noobs though, having done several P200s between the two of them. Also their assigned 6:40ish pace left no doubt they were some seriously fast guys. My only concern was how they would put up with our increasingly childish behavior as the night wore on. 

We got on site at Santee about 11 am for our noon start time. The P200 has a staggered start with the slowest teams first (5:30 am) and fastest last. You start with other teams of a similar projected pace. From the get-go, we saw that it was us and 2 other teams in the next to last slot, but there was some insanely fast team starting at 3 pm. That basically meant our only overall placement shot was for 2^nd.  Masters appeared to be ours to lose, with the next fastest team starting at 10 am. We were up against two high schoolish teams, ones that seemed to have a mix of cross-country kids and their coaches, one from Augusta and the other from Lexington. Weather was ridiculously cold for this relay, just over 50 degrees and windy. 

We got underway with Joel leading us off. Immediately, Augusta teen dude takes off at like 5:30 pace. Uh, I unless this is just a show, I guess we’re fighting for third. Luckily Lexington had several guys who actually weren’t in high school so maybe we could hang with them. With van 1 off and running, we had about 4 and a half hours to kill. Such is the pain of Van 2. You get all jacked up to sit around and wait. I was in the 12^th slot, so I would be lucky to start before 7 pm. We decided to have a regular sit-down meal at our go-to stop in Santee, the Cracker Barrel, which Code so lovingly refers to as the Crack Whore. I’m all for eating regular food on these relays, so I ended up ordering what I thought was a small pot pie. It turns out the potpies in Santee are as big as your face. I showed my usual self-control and mowed through it like the pie-eating contest in Stand by Me. I’m so ashamed. Afterward we cruised by the Subway to get our fuel for dinner, since trying to find anything in the backwoods of Orangeburg county late at night is next to impossible. Apparently we reached the Subway at the exact worst time, and we had to wait an eternity while getting to observe the most random people gathered at a sub shop ever. Such is a rest stop on 1-95. After waiting 20 minutes, my sandwich artist misinterpreted my no mayo order as LETS DUMP THE ENTIRE BOTTLE ON HIS SANDWICH. At this point, I just went with it.

We made our way to the exchange zone for the start of our van, Jericho Methodist church, just outside of Elloree. With hours to kill, we all set out to try and maybe nap a little. I had my hammock, but had to go traipsing through the woods to find two suitable trees, right next to the adjacent cemetery. I tried to sleep put the cold wind and creepy trees and graves probably didn’t help. The ladies manning this zone were super nice, and perhaps most importantly, let us use the ACTUAL BATHROOMS at the church. When you’re facing the unique olfactory and immunologic terror zone of portapotties for 24 hours, real running water is like a gift from God. We were at a church I guess. I ran into CRC alum Matt Gregory, who had moved to Greenville, but was back to run with the Lexington team “Fast Times at Lexington High”. He said he was off his training due to the new baby but would be doing his best. Good to see a familiar face and that his team was at least half dudes that were actually of legal drinking age. 

Lexington cruised into our zone first. They had a few minutes on us, but Brian had texted that Van 1 was already beating the spreadsheet. Before long Nate took off, followed by Dan. By the time Code was scheduled to leave from the Elloree exchange, our two fastest had made significant gains on the Lexington team. Their next guy was dressed like it was 30 degrees out, so I told Code he was primed to take him down and record our first roadkill. Our next zone was actually back at Santee State Park, having completed the Columbia loop. Awaiting me there was Andy Richards with his ceremonial Blue Shoes toilet paper. He’s been doing it every year since he saved me from a paperless portapotty back in 2016. And I am eternally grateful. 

The Yerg took us to Lone Star BBQ, followed by Paul’s leg back through the home of the Mayonnaise Subway and the Mega pot pie. I was actually very nervous about my leg, an 8.84 miler straight shot down highway 15. Not only was I assigned the 6:50 pace, but I had no idea how I would hold up with my post marathon legs. I even brought out the VAPORS because I was going to need every bit of help I could get. I finally get the baton (slap bracelet) around 7 pm and thankfully it’s still light out. Nothing’s worse than a totally dark straight leg on the side of a 55 mph highway. Of course, I’m not more than a quarter mile from the zone when some young Lexington dude is headed back the other way towards where I just left. Doh. That means I’m maybe a half mile ahead of their team, tops. I try to go as fast as I dare, knowing that this is a beast of a long leg. First mile comes back in 6:55 and everything feels pretty good. I figure this is good enough, especially given that it’s virtually 9 miles. Things loosen up significantly in the next few miles and I actually reel off a few 6:40’s to bring me a touch under pace. Vapors were definitely a good decision. I’m so grateful for the daylight since I actually have something to look at, though it’s mainly just fields. There is one tricky 5 way intersection that I had scoped out the night before. What the map didn’t tell me was the giant Cujo-esque albino pit bull staking out the yard of a huge haunted looking house at that intersection. I definitely picked up the pace as he barked at me like the hound of hell. I looked down and thought I saw 6.66 miles and briefly thought I had entered some portal to Hades before realizing it was only 5.66. The next few miles felt great and I was super happy about my pace, keeping it around 6:50. Super happy, at least, until I start hearing footsteps around mile 7. Surely no one is catching me, surely. It must be my bib or my shoelaces. NOPE. I turn around and there’s Jeremy Lewis, local HS XC coach, dropping low 6 pace. Sonofabitch. He passes me and I figure he is leaving me for dead. I can’t calculate the math at the time , but he must’ve been absolutely crushing it to make up the half mile. And it seems maybe it took a lot out of him, because he only slowly creeps away from me in the final miles. I did throw down a 6:30ish in the last mile just to keep the gap from getting too big. Finished 8.84 miles in a shade under an hour, 59:49 /6:47 pace. I actually felt pretty good, and it was awesome to get half my mileage done early.

With Van 1 now in motion, we made our way to our next start, the Hatchery Waterfowl management boat landing. By this time it was dark, and wow, this boat landing had like zero light. The second we got the landing, the other dudes in the van were immediately ready to sleep. Then I realized the punishment for arriving last to the van that morning. While the other guys had places to crash, I had about 12 inches of space, sharing my seat with our gargantuan cooler that could easily store a dead body. Fortunately, I had brought my sleeping bag and pillow. After finally changing into some clean clothes, my body finally realized it was 9 pm and I hadn’t eaten dinner. I attacked my sub like there was no tomorrow, looking like a total maniac with the EXTRA MAYO everywhere. It was not a glamorous moment. Following my moment of gluttony, I realized it was in the mid 40’s and windy outside. I went into full boy scout camping mode, wrapping up in so many layers like the kid from the Christmas Story. I couldn’t move my arms either. It was insanely dark, but I did make note of a lone picnic table by the water’s edge as we were driving in. That would be my Sealy Posturepedic for the night. I throw down my camping pad and sleeping bag on the table and try to get comfortable. Not exactly the Four Seasons but not too terrible. The only problem is the intermittent splashing I keep hearing that I pray to God are fish. My mind starts thinking I could very well be some enormous homewrecker style burrito for a hungry crocodile from Lake Moultrie. A giant fishing boat comes roaring through and of course there are near constant van lights. I think there is zero chance I’ll get any sleep, but suddenly Code is tapping me on the shoulder and saying we are about 15 minutes from our next start. Somehow I guess I drifted off. Believe me, getting any sleep in the relay is pure, unadulterated gold, so I feel like a million bucks heading back to the van. 

Jacked up on a solid 90 minutes of shuteye, I’m ready to go…and wait another 5 hours. Such is the life of the last runner. I feel like Brian has been underselling his Van 1 speed because these guys are taking down the spreadsheet with a vengeance. We are a good 25 minutes ahead of pace going into round 2, though the upcoming legs at o’ dark thirty always suck. I felt bad for Dan, Nate and the Yerg, because each had a super long leg in the middle of the night. Code was driving and complaining as usual. We had to do a spooky scary search at the Witherbee Ranger Station for the portapotties before Code started. It took several minutes in an unmanned zone, but we finally made out the pale blue rectangles in our Blair Witch Project like lighting. Poor Yerg drew the walksie/hallucination leg from my 2010 debacle. I had chills even driving the route. Although we didn’t make any headway on the spreadsheet, we were still maintaining the pace and, perhaps more importantly, had been holding off Lexington. By the time we arrived for my second leg it was 4:20 in the morning and the rest of my van was already crashing out. I got out and discovered it was freaking freezing, high 30s. I waited in the van until the last possible moment. John Richards was at the zone so it was good to see him volunteering in his second position of the relay. The whole Richards clan volunteers, gave us donuts and some beer (for afterwards) , not to mention my toilet paper. They are amazing.

Paul killed his leg and I wasn’t out in the cold more than 5 minutes before he comes rolling into the zone. I take off like a man possessed, half to go fast and half to get warm. I’m so stiff it feels like I’m running on stilts the first half mile. I finally get into a groove and manage a 6:45 or something. My leg is a straight shot down Hwy 17 with a little turnoff at the end, 5.94 miles. The middle miles actually feel amazing in the cold, and there are a few blinky lights in the distance to chase down, as well as their vans, so it broke up the monotony of a very flat and straight route. I catch up to the other runners pretty fast and get a little afraid since garmin is spitting back 6:30s, which is only about 10 seconds off my 10k PR pace.  The last three miles are sort of a blur, just kept looking for that turnoff road. I memorized it was Darrell Creek, like the Code, so that helped. Luckily the turn was well marked and I blast it out to the finish. Jesse Harmon comes rolling by in his van so I try to look strong and not absolutely gassed like I really am. Finished in 38:18 /6:38 pace so well under the spreadsheet. I was running scared the whole time that Jeremy would catch me again. Char Richards was at the finish, so it seemed the Richards family was singlehandedly supporting this relay. Van 1 was there to see my finish, but where the hell were my guys?? I looked through the entire complex of Carolina Park elementary school until I finally saw what looked like a dead Darrell passed out in the front seat of the last van I checked. Van support is definitely lacking at 5 am, though I’ve been on the other side too and I definitely understand. 

We then rolled on to the start of our third legs, upon which the rest of my van immediately went back to sleep. I was of course still jacked on leg 2 adrenaline and really couldn’t rest. I couldn’t bear to become a human burrito again and head out into the cold, plus I didn’t see any quality picnic furniture to sleep on. Instead, I made sweet sweet love to the gigantic cooler, contorted and twisted in a “head down on the desk at school” sleep mode. It wasn’t pretty but it would have to suffice. It wasn’t long before the sun came up and that made it difficult to really crash out anyway. Except for Rob – the Yerg can sleep like the dead. We were parked directly across from the portapotties and were highly entertained by the fact that two of them were very poorly balanced, creating a violent wobbly effect anytime someone entered. With less than two hours of sleep, this is utterly hilarious. I’m sure the other vans thought we were insane, cheering for someone to pick the rocking toilets. 

Seeing daylight again is always nice, and since Van 1 had all their short legs last, we were back in action super fast.  Poor Dan and Paul had their longest legs last, which is just brutal. Van 1 had technically completed the run to Charleston, with Seibers touching foot on the peninsula after running over the Ravenel bridge. We were now headed to the finish in Awendaw, but not before Nate’s super long leg into Sullivan’s Island over the IOP connector and Dan’s run back the other way. I feel there should be a plaque at the IOP side of the connector, as this was the site of the inaugural Blue Shoes 5k, a 27:05 all out effort in October 2007. All I know is that my body was crashing quickly. I mowed through my running breakfast of choice, Pepperidge Farm cinnamon raisin bread, but then entered into a post meal coma where I just wanted to nap. I can deal with the soreness and fatigue of the running, but I hate the “sleepy tired” feeling of not getting adequate rest from my burrito nap on the gator plate near Lake Moultrie. I made Code make a pit stop at the Circle K and I got a large cup of the heaviest brew they had. I downed it like a maniac and instantly I was jacked up again. But Paul still had his 7 miler to go, so I’d have to stew in my caffeine induced mania for a while. As we pulled out of the “Dollar General field” (a grassy area behind the store), I heard the worst sound. Suddenly the van was spinning tires. OH NO NOT AGAIN. I had images of the 2012 Blue Ridge relay where it took like 12 people pushing and gunning the gas to unstick our van. After a tense couple of minutes and with everyone out and pushing, we finally were finally able to free our vehicle from the muck. WHEW. I was in an all out panic, thinking I might need to call Brian to come get us emergently. 

By the time of my third leg, we knew that we had Lexington beat and the Masters crown should be in the bag. The only variable was if we could break the 24 hour mark. Great, there still has to be pressure. The Circle K brew apparently was spiked with amphetamines because between that and the van/mud debacle I was really revved up. I think I hit the portapotty like 5 times and kept pacing in the cold. The rest of Van 2 was enjoying a beauty nap, I assume. Suddenly Paul comes tearing into the last exchange screaming like a banshee. I wasn’t entirely sure of what time he came in, so I take off like a man possessed. I only had a 5k to go, but I was still afraid of catastrophic walksies or getting lost or something. Legs were like WTF are we doing but I was willing to thrash them into oblivion to throw down a good time. It felt like I was doing a sub 6, but trashed legs gave me a 6:30 for mile 1. Hey, good enough though. Fortunately, my leg was just a simple straight route with one turn at the end into the park for the finish line. I bled a little time in mile 2 to 6:36, but then the adrenaline took over when I could make out the park entrance. I blasted into the park and was praying it wasn’t too far from the finish. Luckily around the first bend you have a long straightaway with the finish arch in sight. I swear it felt like forever, but I finally made it to the home stretch, where the whole team created a little tunnel to go through before hitting the finish. 20:27/6:29 for the 3.15 last leg, and more importantly way under 24 hours as a team, official time of 23 hours and 47 minutes/ 7:02 pace. FIRST MASTERS and actually 3^rd overall too. Finish line area was great with New Belgium brews and Moe’s tacos. Lots of familiar faces at the finish including fellow Skidaway vets / TUS teammates/ CRC members Ashley Holman, Brittany Jones and Christa Collins, whose team won first female. Dan “feeling the streets” Bliesner from our early teams was on hand, along with Simon Froese from the Dam to Dam relay. Julia and Pat Norcia were there to support Kyle and his Clemson team. Darrell has stated he is retired after this year, and I always threaten to as well, but I’ll keep my options open. Just hope I get a better sleep next year, and of course, hold the mayo.