Gore-Tex Transrockies Stage 1 Buena Vista

The race director apologized that the stage had to be modified and rather than trail, the first stage of the Transrockies would be run on 13 miles of dirt road paralleling the Arkansas River. Some of the entrants complained, but I looked at it as an opportunity to adapt to the altitude without having to climb a mountain.

The previous nights BBQ had been interrupted by a heavy downpour and thunder but the morning sky was clear and the feared inclement weather failed to materialize. The air was filled with electricity but not of the kind supplied by Mother Nature. It was the electricity generated by 160 human bodies anxious for the report of the starter’s gun. I maintained my pre-race aloofness, as if I wasn’t churning inside, but Annie knew better even if the other competitors didn’t.

Doug and I moved back in the starters chute to a place we suspected we wouldn’t be trampled. After all, our agreed upon goal was to not be last. The race started and as expected all but a trekker from the South Bronx and his partner pulled away. I don’t know about Doug but I remembered a time when I would have been near the front. I felt somewhat embarrassed to be one of the “old guys’ in the race.

A hundred yards down the road I felt my chest tighten and I realized a good portion of the day would be spent walking. Doug reported his pulse was over 140. Good, I thought - an opportunity to walk. I slowed down to a fast walk but Doug was still having a hard time keeping up. It dawned on me that Doug and I had never trained as a team; otherwise we would have understood each others strengths and weaknesses. Doug couldn’t power walk (he got better). He segued between a fast walk and a slow jog, but insisted I maintain the pace. I asked what his pulse rate was… when he jogged it climbed up into the 130’s but was in the 120’s when he walked. We discussed our ‘new and improved’ strategy. Run according to Doug’s pulse.

We began passing other teams – and had I not had a bout of Buena Vista BBQ bowels would have passed more. When we arrived at the aid station there were several teams hovering around. I grabbed Doug and pulled him away from the buffet table. Wow, he remarked we must have passed five teams at the station… Uh huh, I replied and explained that getting in and out of a station fast was one of the secrets to race success… even if the difference was between finishing last or fifth from last. Doug was a quick study - he only lingered in a station once or twice for the remainder of the stages. He remarked that I’d be his mentor during the rest of the race… it was then that I realized Doug had never competed in an event longer than a marathon… he had a lot of ‘on the run’ training in store.

A camera man appeared on the road, and we picked up the pace. When near the camera we shouted our race mantra “We’re the old goats. We look bad. We smell bad. We are baaaad!” Doug added a statement to the effect the two young girls in front of us had very attractive glutes (not exactly those words but you get the idea). We passed the two sisters from Nebraska and Doug apologized in advance for his somewhat rude remark, just in case the video was shown later – which it was! For all to see at http://www.transrockies.com/ Stage one video.

Annie met us with a mile to go, and jogged ahead to take pictures of the finish… Our main rivals (the Knuckleheads) a team of 54 year olds out of New Jersey beat us by ten minutes, but we actually finished ahead of nine other teams and neither Doug nor I were worse for the wear. After the stage was completed, even the complaining front runners appeared to enjoy the run, particularly the opportunity to laze in the icy waters of the Arkansas before being shuttled back to tent city.

For those unfamiliar with the routine of the Transrockies, suffice it to say that breakfasts and dinners are catered, accommodations are rustic. Breakfast was served at six and resembled the grand slam menu at Denny’s. Eggs, bacon, sausage, oatmeal, bagels, with all the fixings… Dinner was a combination of meats, pasta, rice, and sometimes potatoes. One night it was steak, chicken, portabella mushrooms, and a baked potato bar. We slept in a tent city that was erected and disassembled and moved by the transRockies staff. I am not a camper but had no trouble falling asleep each night – even if middle of the night peeing posed a problem.

After the first nights dinner they held the awards ceremony for the front runners and then showed slides and a video of the days run. Doug and I appeared in several shots, including Doug’s remark about the girls posteriors and my “BAAAAAD”. In fact, our “Baaaaa’s” became our calling card. I can’t recall the number of times “You Old Goat” was shouted from a passing vehicle, spectator, or fellow competitor... By the middle of the race the Finish Line announcer stopped calling out our names and just said “The Goats are in the House”.