Race Disorganizers

Throughout the night, there were rumblings that a plan of action was being formulated by the race organizers to ensure that the teams who were far behind projections would finish before the 4:00 PM course cut-off.  At over four hours behind, we were undoubtedly amongst this group.  Speaking to other teams, it was mildly comforting to know that we didn't appear to be in the minority.

One solution we heard being bandied about was having teams send out runners on different loops simultaneously.  Another was extending the cut-off time to 8:00 PM that night.

The rumor picking up the most steam was that the race organizers were going to make teams double up their runners, meaning teams would eschew the designated running order and have teammates  run together on whatever loops they had remaining out of sequence.  This was by far the worst option for our team.  Since we were missing two teammates, the extra legs we had left to do were the exact same ones the runners who offered to pick them up were already assigned.  In other words, in order for us to get all twenty-four legs in, runners would have to essentially “double up” with themselves.  Since this is a physically impossible feat for anyone other than Schrödinger’s cat, we were quite concerned and started trying to figure out an alternative strategy.

Speculation was at a near frenzy as the sun started to rise, but it was impossible to get concrete information from anyone in charge.  Our team figured out an ad-hoc way to get all the legs covered, but it meant that we needed to send out two people on the very next leg.  Therefore, we felt pressured to get the okay from the race organizers before our teammate currently on course came back in.

I tried talking to an official-looking duo sitting in front of laptops in the transition tent.  I was both trying to find out the specifics of doubling up (Do the runners have to stay together?  If not, does the faster runner wear the team bib which is imbedded with the timing chip?  How does the second runner’s time get recorded?), as well as trying to get the official okay for the plan our team came up with.  The man ignored me completely as he huffed exasperatedly at his computer screen.  The young Russian girl sitting next to him somehow acknowledged me while never looking up from her computer screen, which I didn’t mind because her brusqueness implied a measure of authority.  Although I was well-prepared with a visual aid to illustrate our plan of action, she didn’t bother glancing at my spreadsheet nor even let me finish my question.

“Just double up.  Go ahead, do it.  Do it now.”  Spoken like a true Proletariat.

Meanwhile, A and M were talking to a woman who was sitting a few hundred yards away at what yesterday was the registration desk.  She was armed with a walkie-talkie and thereby had a direct line to the race director, a wild-eyed man who looked more like Where's Waldo than a trail runner.  While she tried to be helpful, she was simultaneously dealing with an emergency on the course that involved a runner who required medical attention.  After waiting for his condition to stabilize, she finally told us that no, we cannot double up until the official announcement was made at 9:00 AM.   Even though that was only a twenty minutes away, our runner was coming in and we had to make a choice.  If we didn’t send two runners out on the next leg, our plan would not work.

The team camping next to us already took it upon themselves to double up around midnight without the race organizers' consent.  Like us, they couldn't find anyone to give them a straight answer, but they were so far behind they knew they would not finish until late Saturday night and they had "other things to do" that weekend.  So they went ahead and doubled up, keeping their own time records in order to plead their case. The fear was they risked not being granted medals and having their official results listed as the dreaded DNF, Did Not Finish.

So we sat and waited for 9:00 AM or for our runner to come in, whichever came first. It was nearly time and our runner still wasn’t back.  The organizers gathered whoever was around the transition tent and someone shouted over a bullhorn that teams needed to start doubling up if the runner for your sixteenth leg hadn’t gone out yet.  Sixteen was the very leg we were waiting to be completed.  Because we just made their cut-off, the race organizers wouldn’t let us execute our plan.

The runner of our sixteenth leg came in at 9:02 AM.  Unable to argue with the race organizers and in a frenzy to keep our relay moving, we had no choice but to send our next runner, A, out alone.  Our hopes of doubling up and finishing before 4:00 PM were dashed.  At that moment, I knew it would be a long day.