So, we left Seattle and got to what is called a "major exchange," in Sandy. Meaning, Van 1 met Van 2. Runner number 6 came in and gave off to our van and our runner number 7. We were off. This was all new to to me. The craziness of the vans, all the runners, the exchanges. But I quickly got into the vibe and energy. We were off with our runner, Richard, who is older than me, but oh-so much faster.
We piled into the van and raced to Richard's finish where Joe took over...and on it went to my first run, at 10:30 at night.
I had no idea where I was, but knew I had to run about 6 miles.
Safety vest.
Lights.
Headlamp.
Watch.
In comes Brad, the "baton" is given to me, and off I go down a trail. Me and no one else. Running with the moon, the smell of willows, a few homeless men, and occasionally a volunteer at a road crossing. It was pure magic. I had to convince myself not to run too fast, after all in a few hours I had to run 7 miles, mostly uphill.
Even though no one was around I felt the energy of my team, of the whole experience. Out there in "the world" there were runners pounding the streets, the trails, just like me.
And I came to the finish, handing off the wrist band to Dave, and I was "collected" by one of the guys from the van. Off to another exchange.
And I was "into" Hood to Coast.
Murphy's Day.
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