All stories have a starting point. This story starts months before the THANG. Patty planted the seed again, and nurtured our little team. Providing training, a little push here and there, and tons logistical planning for good growth. A team of 14, but a group of 7, this is their story.
Leading up to the day, texts started floating around about snacks, drinks, packing, etc. It was probably the hardest part of the whole thing. We finally decided on some water, Gatorade, Propel, Trail Mix, BBQ Snack mix, Swedish Fish, Gummy Bears, and jerky. But of course this was all just to supplement in between actual meals, right?
Van 2 met up at the Walmart in Middletown, and started slinging belongings into the van. Initially the back row was installed, and we couldn’t figure out how to remove it. The parking lot lights weren’t on, and trying to find levers, pins, or whatever was needed to remove the seat were strategically hidden in the darkness. So we sacrificed a seat for the cooler, and pile bag, pillows, sleeping bags, shoes, etc all in any available space, and started off to Jim Beam for the start of the running.
As we pulled into Jim Beam, the fog was majestic. To say it exceeded the majesty of Beckley Creek would be an understatement. Maybe it had a little extra to it, being a distillery. Here is where Saul Goodman and company finally figured out how to remove the back seat. Making room for the cooler, and freeing up a seat which will prove to be crucial later.
We did our check-in, and then Husky lined up. After the MC delayed him for a few minutes, and like a rabbit dog, the beast that is Husky was off for a 7.4 mile first leg.
Here is where the real fun begins. You see, you think this is a running event, but it isn’t. This is a story about all the shenanigans that happen when you cram 6-7 guys into a 15 passenger van. We made our way back to the van, loaded up, and then got a Bourbon 101 lesson from Patty about the Baudoinia Compniacensis aka “Whiskey Mold.” It really set the tone for how entertaining the van rides would be. I mean who doesn’t love a good mold lesson?!
We arrived at the first exchange point with plenty of time to spare. Everyone stretching like it was their turn to run, when in reality it was just Kitty Litter who would carry the torch for us. Husky was actually the second runner from our starting block to make it to the exchange, but I blinked when the first guy came in, and I had already posted to Slack otherwise and didn’t see a reason to rewrite the history books. Kitty Litter took the bracelet and went out on a 2.2 mile sprint. Somewhere about here, there was a reference to a runner’s gait. I missed the initial comment, but it would circle back, over, and over, and over.
When I make a comment about a 2.2 mile sprint, I’m talking about the guys in the van. Kitty Litter’s pace would only allow us guys in the van about 18 minutes to see him off, get to the van, load up, and make it to the next exchange, get our next runner (Patty) out and start stretching.
Kitty Litter made the exchange to Patty like an Olympic relay team. Flawless. Shaving crucial seconds off our soon to be 27+ hour finish time. Patty was off for 5.1 miles of fun. Back to the van we go, and on to the next stop.
Patty strolled into the exchange with Root Canal hardly even huffing and puffing. Root Canal took off to check out the “scenery” that was in front of him, easily handling his first 3.7 miles, and finishing at Heaven Hill. Here some guys got to have a tasting or two, but for me and McStuffins, we had 12.2 miles still looming. Up to this point I don’t remember it being hot. The sun had started peeking through the clouds but the cold front that brought the rain was still present. I’m guessing here, because my memory sucks, and notes were not taken. But I would guess Saul Goodman started his 9.5 mile run with about 55-60 degrees but finished with about 70-75 degrees.
As Saul made his final turn to the exchange, McStuffins and I were ready and waiting. I volunteered/requested this leg of the race. I wanted it. It is the “Ragnar” leg. 12.2 miles of fun. Not that I needed the reassurance, Patty wasn’t wasn’t exactly selling confidence as he commented about how brutal the hills would be. He said that when you think they are over, they just keep going. His description would prove to be fairly accurate. But, we trained for this, right?
We did good through about 10 miles. Averaging about a 9 minute mile, and then there was mile 10. At this point, McStuffins was encouraging me to push through, and like any good friend, I left his ass there, and pushed. What you don’t know is that Big Birds can fly. And I’m convinced he did a fly by on me, and I could hear him saying “Last one, best one.” So I started to push, trying to make the last mile my best. Well, my best mile after running 10+ miles that is. I shaved time back down to about a 9 minute mile pace, and pushed. It’s a pretty cool feeling making that last turn into the park, hearing the crowd. I pushed that last little bit, and handed off to Motor Boat and DeVitto.
We gathered for a team photo (minus Motor Boat and DeVitto.) Exchanged a fist bump or two, and then started toward the vans. Somehow, Van 1 was parked on one side of the park, and Van 2 was on the other side. So we had to rally at the next exchange to hand off some jerky. It was met with some resistance, as Van 1 wanted to keep it all to themselves, but alas, we handed some over.
With about 4 hours to kill, and empty stomachs, we opted to make a short drive over to Maker’s Mark. While we didn’t do a tour or anything special really, it was great to sit on a comfy couch, and take in a full meal (with a Bourbon Slushie.) After wandering the grounds, and being rejected by the tour guide, we made our way back to the van, and onto the next major exchange point.
Or so we thought.
Our fearless navigator might have keyed in the wrong address, taking us to Perryville instead of Danville. Even though we were in the wrong location, the city of Perryville hosts a heck of a party for the Bourbon Chasers. Food trucks, grills, State Fair quality lemonade, etc. But instead, we loaded back up and headed to Danville to wait for Van 2’s arrival.
If you didn’t know, Danville is home to Centre College. Which is practically the Harvard of Central Kentucky. Similar to Perryville, Danville embraces the Bourbon Chase. They shut down the streets downtown, set up tables for dining, and even have a live band.
Departing from Danville, Husky took control, and headed off for his second leg. The sun was beginning to set at this point, and the temperature was dropping fast. Husky handed it over to Kitty Litter, who’s leg took him into downtown Stanford. Stanford is the self proclaimed most hospitable stop on the Chase. They also call themselves Cookie Town. As we walked the streets of Cookie Town, waiting for Kitty Litter’s arrival there was an announcement. The announcement would inform us that Ragnar was holding all runners for 20 minutes. So, Kitty Litter is out, busting his ass, pushing the pace with 7:38 miles, only to arrive and be told we were going to hang out for a while. We ended up waiting 30 minutes at the recommendation of the Ragnar folks. So we hung out in Cookie Town, watching the town have a dance party. Patty finally started out of this second leg, and the rest of us piled into the van.
I don’t remember anything about the next exchange. Patty to Root Canal, and Root Canal to Saul Goodman must have been a boring time, or I was half asleep at this point.
But, then came McStuffin’s and my second leg, which would have us running around the party school, Centre. It was roughly 10 PM, and not a single student was seen. I don’t know if they were all at the library, or showering for the night on the town, but it was silent. I started to fade, so I handed the tracker off to McStuffins and told him to finish it off. He had the fresher legs. He snuck some naps in, while in the van, and I’m now convinced he can sleep anywhere.
By now the temperature had reached a point that everyone was adding a layer. Sweatshirts, pants, etc. We opted for Domino’s pizza for dinner, and then off to Anderson County High School for the next major exchange.
Anderson County High School allows Chasers to use the gym, showers, etc, for a fee. But I think only Kitty Litter made it inside. The rest of us all threw out sleeping bags and laid down in a grassy area and tried to get a little sleep. Sleep was interrupted over, and over, by other vans coming in, honking horns, dropping gear, and other stuff, but my watch still claims I got about an hour and forty five minutes worth of sleep. We set alarms for 3 AM, which was the projected time for Van 2 to arrive, and we would need to get Husky on the course.
PK woke us up, and said AirRaid was only about 15 minutes away. Husky still half asleep, started to walk towards the exchange location. About 100 feet from the van, Saul asked if he had a headlamp (required), reflective vest (required) and blinky tail light (also required). To which he didn’t. Saul ran back to grab those things while the rest of us continued to the exchange location. We hadn’t even made it all the way to the exchange when AirRaid appeared. There were multiple people trying to assist Husky get his gear on. Still half asleep Husky even had to ask which direction he was supposed to be running. He ended up running away in his full sleep gear, which included a toboggan, sweatshirt, and pants. I’m pretty sure he arrived at the next exchange carrying 50% of that gear. But really at this point, everyone was tired, our enthusiasm to meet our fellow runner coming off the course was simply the next runner, and that runner would point in the general direction of the van.
Husky arrived at the van with little fanfare, and we were off to the next exchange.
At this point, long blinks could turn into a head bob if you weren’t careful. But we soldiered on, going through the motions. Runner out, stretch, wait for runner, pick up runner, drive to next exchange, rinse and repeat.
Then came McStuffins and my last run. It was quiet, on the cusp of sunrise, but not quite there yet. It was the shortest leg for us, only about 3.8 miles. But stuck in the middle of that 3.8 miles was 1.5 miles of uphill, with little to no flat recovery spots along the way. We kicked that hill’s ass. We reached the flat spot that would eventually lead to the exchange, and McStuffins found an extra gear. Luckily I had hitched my wagon to him, and he pulled me across the finish line.
This would mark the end of the “race” for our van. From here we would move on to First Watch for a celebratory breakfast. We then made our way to the last exchange for Van 2, and again, threw out some sleeping bags for a little recovery time. Once we cheered on our last runner, we made our way to the actual finish line in downtown Lexington. 27+ hours after we started, and 200(ish) miles later, we were finished.
We relaxed a while at the finish line, then packed up and headed home.
So many moments to try to cram into a backblast. So many things I likely left out of this backblast, that tomorrow I will wish I had included.
Did it hurt? Sure. Was I tired? Sure. Did I laugh my ass off at stupid one line jokes? Yup. Was it fun? You betcha.
To feed a little off MeterMaid’s backblast for this same event, these are items that I don’t know where to put in this backblast, but I feel need to be preserved for all time on the internet.
- It is spelled Versailles, but pronounced Ver-sales. Not Ver-seye.
- Husky will do some pretty crazy stuff to save a few bucks to watch a Jets football game.
- Even locals have no clue Aristides is a horse name.
- That runner sure has a nice looking gait.
- Pari-mutuel betting vs fixed odds
- If you place a bet that is +175, you have to wager $100 to make back $175.
- Patty is way too confident in UK football.
- If I’m ever home alone on a Saturday evening, I’m headed to Ballard Glen and just looking for the open garage doors with a TV.
- 10 lbs precooked weight isn’t enough jerky for 12 guys.
F3 Louisville 
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