Special Edition: Rocky Raccoon Pacer's Report

As many of you know, Team K recently headed down to Hunstville to crew and pace for some of our friends at the Rocky Raccoon 50/100 Mile Trail Run. There are so many moving and inspirational stories from that weekend. Erik was fortunate enough to crew for our friend Greg and I wanted to make sure that he had a proper place to tell his story....so I suggest that he appear here as a "guest blogger." So without further adieu....I give you Erik and his Rocky Raccoon Pacer's Report. Enjoy!

I’ve never had so much respect for a starting line in my life. It was cold, dark, raining, and the 100 miles ahead was daunting, even to a bystander. The starting “portal” was posted “Runners Only, No Crews.” It had the air of a serious space, hallowed ground. Runners entered with pride, hopes, goals, and fears but most of all with bravery. It was awe inspiring to watch these runners take off into the cold, wet darkness.
Over the hours runners would reemerge in various states of distress, hope, and determination. Greg always came out of the madness calm, strong, and unscathed. It wasn’t until after 60 miles of terrain that I would realize this wasn’t just a brave front but a constant state of being.
After standing, sitting, pacing, gearing up, rechecking gear, wringing hands, sitting, standing, and more pacing around Greg appeared….60 miles on his feet….looking….fresh…..I was amped….I was nervous…I was guilty of the sin of extreme Pride. I was about to pass through the portal and get a glimpse of a hard fought, hard wrought world. On my own I didn’t have the right to step foot on the trail, but I was part of a crew, I was pacing a 100 miler! Proud! When Greg was ready it was all I could do not to sprint. When we entered the course he gently mentioned that we wouldn’t be going quite that fast….I have no idea how quickly I started, I was running on pure adrenaline. The course started out dark and got darker and more narrow. Greg said he felt strong and suggested I fall back and follow, chat and keep him company. When the course widened we’d run side by side. We wound our way through the damp darkness, skipping over tree roots and rocks, navigating twists, turns, and bridges all the while engaging other runners. We kept our feet dry as long as possible but eventually ended up in the bottoms with deep, wide mud flats…all the while Greg advising the best path when there was one, trudging straight through when there was not. We would pass other runners coming and going, their faces holding varying looks of pain, panic, and confusion. There were some, who like Greg, looked strong, many however, looked beaten and empty. They would be on the trail’s edge clutching a tree, slowly putting weight on a suspect foot to see if it could support it. Greg would call out “good job” and I could tell they heard him but didn’t process his words. I felt bad for them, I hurt for them but I was empowered by MY runner. Greg had run the same miles, trudged through the same mud and had been drenched by the same cold rain but remained strong, even smooth and focused. The man possessed GRACE! After all those miles not only was he physically intact, he was upbeat, positive, charming, and genuinely concerned about his fellow runners. While other people’s eyes had gone dim and hazed over he retained his twinkle. Unfucking believable…..again I was in awe…


Matt with pacer Jon, Drum, Greg, and Erik

We’d come to an aid station and he’d say he was going to sit for a bit then he would power on. “We’ll just grab something and eat while we walk.” He’d advise me “it’s 6 miles to the next station, make sure you stock up.” He was looking out for me….70 miles on his feet and he is still concerned about others, about me. Amazing in general, but not surprising considering-after all this is Greg. We trudged on, at times maintaining quite a quick pace even up steep terrain. A big, bright moon shining down on us through the tall, tall pines...at times running with Matt and Beth, playing leap frog over long stretches…other times totally by ourselves. We’d pass pockets of other runners and exchange encouraging words and nods. We’d trot the Jeep trails and mountain goat the steep, rooty paths…Greg maintaining his smooth, constant, forward form. I’d stumble from kicking a rock or a tree root and Greg would make sure I was ok. He is 75 miles in and he’s still dodging obstacles with high knees and perfect form—always positive, encouraging those we’d pass. GRACE!
He let me lead the last 2 miles. He didn’t need to be pulled along, he was still plenty strong, he just knew I wanted to. As we neared the end he gave me a few directives as to what he’d need after he refueled at the main tent…that and he thanked me….after taking me on the run of my life, giving me a glimpse into an elite world and showing me the fight, spirit and grace of a champion, he thanked me….
What an eye opening experience…I’m not sure who shed the first tear when Drum brought him across after the 100 mile mark. It may well have been a 3-way tie….


Erik, Greg, and Drum at the finish line

And for the "rest of the story" don't miss Drum's blog as she tells her side of miles 80-100. It is a MUST READ!

(Thanks to Sarah Florence and Fiona Lu for the pictures!)