(Side Note: Please read Captain Crunchberry’s awesome postmortem BB, also from Van 1’s perspective. He captured good details about the running experience itself, paces, transitions, trouble spots, etc. Go here: https://f3louisville.com/2023/10/12/2023-bourbon-chase-van-1-backblast/ )
What follows are a few reflections of my overall race experience, and how it furthered my 1stF, 2ndF, and 3rdF journey.
Van 1 PAX (all very much HIM): Husky, Patty (Q), Saul Goodman, Root Canal, Captain Crunchberry, McStuffins, Kitty Litter).
Defining Weekend Quote: “Where do I go?”. This quote happened later in the race, uttered by none other than uber-HIM Husky at 3:00am-ish, after going from sleeping on a grassy knoll to taking the baton at the handoff’s starting line…just 12 minutes after waking up! But the “where do I go” quote was thematically apropos in describing our entire two-day challenge. That was always the pertinent question: Where in BFE-KY do I drive or run to stay on the Ragnar Bourbon Chase course?…or find the next group of runners?, or hookup with Van 2 convergence?…, etc. Logistics and Car Nav skills proved essential.
Each Ragnar Bourbon Chase Relay team consists of twelve men (or women or mixed) plus pacers if desired (we had two) divided between two ubiquitous white creepy vans of 6 or 7 pax per van. Each runner was assigned three separate running legs, varying in distance and difficulty, and going from daytime to nighttime then back to daytime. Our pacers, DeVitto and McStuffins, were rock stars…vital to our team’s success, and essential to our race strategy. Misery loves company.
The first day started on Friday at 0700, when Van 1 Pax showed up at the Middletown WalMart parking lot, stuffed way too much gear & snacks into our Van, and shuffled off towards the Jim Beam Distillery startex.
We checked in at Race HQ, walked around a bit, then hit the ground running. We had an assigned start time (I forget when), but each team’s start time was assigned based on anticipated pace, and coordinated such that the majority of teams would finish somewhat together. More on this later, but we may have underestimated our pace a bit…or just crushed our goals! Either way, the race directors don’t like sandbagging, and we risked a penalty “hold” if we got too far ahead of our scheduled transitions.
Husky took the first leg, handing off to Kitty Litter (YHC) somewhere DR. Our rotation was always Husky, Kitty Litter, Patty, Root Canal, Saul Goodman, Captain Crunchberry + McStuffins (pacer), then handed off the race to Van 2. Van 2’s rotation was always MotorBoat, PK, BigBird, MeterMaid, HoneyDo, AirRaid…plus DeVitto kicking ass alongside several Pax as an alternating pacer. Each Van completes 6 legs before handing off to the other Van. We did this 3 times for a total of 36 race legs, all-in.
The course was hilly, all hills, only hills, some big, some small, some long, some…longer. But hills! We meandered from Bardstown to Lexington, snaking 200 miles through rolling bluegrass, horse farms, bourbon stops, and God’s country. What a blessing to be situated in such a beautiful part of the Commonwealth. As we were driving and running these parts, it’s impossible not to be grateful and humbled by the landscape and terrain. Simply glorious!
Back to the race event. By halfway through the race, we’ve all exceeded our own expectations. We weren’t sandbagging, but rather, we all put in the training work. Our team made a solid plan, did lots of BO runs leading up, and then executed effectively. We all put in the miles leading up to the race, including hillwork, speedwork, and distance volume.
As we progressed throughout the day (Friday), the temperatures went from cool to warm to cool to cold. Hill after hill was on everyone’s menu; very little of the course was flat…so nobody remained cold for long, at least while running.
The mumblechatter was amazing. Picture this: seven pax in each van. Normally, when just two guys travel together for more than an hour, there’s a bond established. Now multiply that by 7×7 potential chatterers. It’s exponential gum-flapping! That’s why the “3” in “F3” is actually written as an exponent…it’s not just three things; it’s cubed! 30+ hours of dudes joking, breaking bread, discussing on-course stories of adventure, learning about each others’ lives, families, jobs, interests, and problems. And suffering together.
We learn to love those we’re with..then we take that spirit back to those we’ve been without. I highly recommend this type of race, not for the 1st F sport of it (although that’s very cool too), but for the 2ndF bonding that proved vital to the weekend’s success. Cherished memories indeed.
After handing off the baton (actually a wrist band with a timing chip) to Van 2 for running duties, our Van 1 enjoyed a pizza together and made our way to the next “major transition”, where we’d have a bit of extra time while Van 2 cycled through their next 6 stages. If all went well, this is where we planned to get a few hours of rack time…zzzz’s. We got about two hours of sleep, or one if you count constantly waking up to the sounds, lights, vans, and other displeasurable ambient noises.
Our sleeping arrangements were austere: a blanket or bag thrown down in the cold wet grass, trying desperately to filter out all that was going on around us…and all that was yet to come in the gloom. Nobody complained.
Soon enough, Van 2 arrived just before Husky had to jump out of the fartsack and make it to the start. “Where do I go?” was uttered then, and countless times before and after. We had the benefit of several smart-ish people in each van, so logistics were somewhat smooth. I imagine other teams weren’t so lucky.
Just point me in the right direction, and move on out. That’s what we all love about running. It’s just so damn simple. Put on shoes and mosey. Unless you’re in first place, you just follow the blinking-light people in front of you, like a lit-up zombie march, trekking to somewhere off ahead. Often when we run, we’re going nowhere, but sometimes to somewhere, and yet usually to where we first began. Talk about completely stupid and utterly pointless! Yet, that’s the point.
Throughout the race, we all played the “Kills” game. It’s basically just keeping track of how many NET runners you overtook during your leg section; that is, the number of runners you passed by, less the number of runners who passed you. And sometimes you play cat & mouse with the same runner, passing him/her, then getting re-passed, then overtaking again, etc. This was easier earlier in the race, but by the end we were too far ahead of schedule and the only “kills” came in the form of the Elite teams finally catching up to us weekend hacks. We became the Kill!
My final run shift started during the wee hours (taking the timing chip from Husky). I was traveling through rolling wooded countryside, approaching Lexington from the West. It was hella dark, but peaceful and beautiful. I turned off my headlamp and just let God do His thing with all the moons and stars and the sounds of the night. It was an amazing “3rd F” experience, somewhat out-of-body. All that existed for the 8-ish miles of the leg were the sounds of my footfalls, the rhythmic heaving of breath, and the cadence of a body in motion. It’s good to be alone with your thoughts, and even better knowing that a team of brothers awaits your arrival.
At one point I was running by a fence line and sensed something “out there”. I was sleep deprived and had run two previous legs, so hallucinations weren’t out of the question. But I sensed movement…something stirring. Dark and shadowy–and huge–figures watching me. Then it hit me! It was a curious group of thoroughbreds just hanging out by the fence line–in the gloomiest of glooms–wondering what this damn fool was doing running down this dark road. I guess we’ve studied them running around in circles long enough for them to return the favor. They probably wagered that I’d “scratch”.
Once our van got back into Lexington, we met Van 2’s last handoff place. This is where Air Raid took the last leg like a champ. But before we got there, we had time for breakfast at First Watch and plenty of time to sit and chat about life and important things and unimportant things. Funny things and real things.
We all met at downtown Lexington’s Finish Line Party and celebrated Air Raid’s triumphant arrival. Most of the pax ran the final 50 meters with him (HIM), all finishing strong, F3 flags waving high and proud. Recovery beers, earned and well deserved.
I’m proud of this team and the memories and connections we built together. I recommend this event to anyone in F3 Louisville who seeks a fun, unique goal to shoot for. It’s well organized and well-supported. We’ll be back. –Kitty Litter–
F3 Louisville 