Hatfield and McCoy Marathon
June 9, 2018
Four years ago we ran Hatfield and McCoy as our Kentucky Marathon and never imagined we would run it again as our West Virginia state as well. As I perused the race calendar for doubles to knock out some remaining states~low and behold I find a double in the middle of summer to my husband's
delight~not. He hates running in the heat. After I tell him the crazy driving schedule required to cross off West Virginia and North Carolina he acquiesces even after I tell him the second state is an indoor marathon around a track. One week after I pay the registration fees and book the airline I get an email stating that the air conditioner is broken and will not be fixed before marathon day, but that the marathon will precede. (Let's just say it excites my husband, the idea of running round and round inside a hot steamy building.) Hey, two states closer to the finish line right? Not so fast! Two days later, I get another email about a refund for our registration. Wait, I don't want a refund...I want to run in the hot building, but my protest email results in, "Sorry the race is officially canceled!" Phooey, now we have a four day trip planned for one marathon with a six hour drive to get there since the flight is booked into and out of the second marathon location that no longer exists....Is it deja vu? Four years ago this very race destination involved 2,800 miles
in eleven days to rack up Kentucky, Michigan and Wisconsin before ending back at the Milwaukee airport for the flight home~nine hundred miles per marathon is one epic road trip. When we return the rental car the guy takes a second look at the mileage. Older does not always mean wiser...it appears I messed up another one! Efficiency is obviously not my strong suit. We are not only repeating a marathon, thankfully it counts as a new state, we are driving a total of eighteen hours with ten hours of flight time~plus an extra six hours~for a broken plane, but it would all
be worth it to complete all the southeastern states!! Now, another trip to North Carolina is required to complete our quest! Thank you "Indoor Insanity Marathon" for our insane marathon travel plan that nets one measly state hours and hours away. Thanks to Delta Airlines the insanity only intensifies when we arrive at the wrong terminal even though we are at the right gate according to our boarding passes. We make a mad dash to catch the shuttle bus to the correct terminal only to end up at the international terminal just in time for the bus driver's break. Once the bus is moving again, we make it to the correct terminal in time to board the plane for the short trip to the runway before returning to the gate with a broken plane. After almost two hours they let us off the plane to try and make alternate plans to our destinations. After all passengers stand in line for thirty minutes with two agents to book flights, we are told a new plane is coming, but back at the other terminal. So we shuttle back to Terminal Two just to be told
once we arrive at the gate that we now need to go back to Terminal Three. Once we are finally on the new plane we wait another hour while they find some food for the plane. I am sure every one ate during the six hour delay...lets just go! Needless to say there are a few grumpy passengers...not me of course! I am just dreading the two hour drive to the hotel if we can get to the rental car counter before they close at one am. We truly enjoy driving endlessly long stretches of road in the middle of the night, riding in the car after 20 hours of travel time...is so much fun! Why do we do this again...I question my own sanity! Next time~if there is a next time~we will stick with the cheap flights on the red-eye. Every time we pay more for travel during normal travel times we spend all the extra time at the airport with delays. The other thing that is the same from four years ago is my size...Large. How did that happen? At the beginning of the year my marathon training is the best it has been in years. Running is way too much fun carrying a lighter load, but five difficult months later there is a huge shift~in girth~and an unfortunate negative shift in mindset! My only option is to take out my big girl pants, squeeze into them, and get back to business. As hard as it is my theme song "So Far Away" must begin again if I am ever to accomplish my goal. Time to put down the bread and pick up the pace! Since it took me five months to get to my current situation, it will undoubtedly take a few months to get back to running with ease. For now, I will lug around my
transgressions for all to see. What better place is there to trot along than the hot humid hills of Hardy, Kentucky the birthplace of my grandmother. The course strolls for five miles through the main street of her childhood home~I am sure the roads were just dirt paths eighty years ago when she left at twelve.
IT IS JUST 98 degrees |
Wore out those flip flops...left the sweater at The Habit in Santa Clarita, phone is a goner but everything else lives on... |
be worth it to complete all the southeastern states!! Now, another trip to North Carolina is required to complete our quest! Thank you "Indoor Insanity Marathon" for our insane marathon travel plan that nets one measly state hours and hours away. Thanks to Delta Airlines the insanity only intensifies when we arrive at the wrong terminal even though we are at the right gate according to our boarding passes. We make a mad dash to catch the shuttle bus to the correct terminal only to end up at the international terminal just in time for the bus driver's break. Once the bus is moving again, we make it to the correct terminal in time to board the plane for the short trip to the runway before returning to the gate with a broken plane. After almost two hours they let us off the plane to try and make alternate plans to our destinations. After all passengers stand in line for thirty minutes with two agents to book flights, we are told a new plane is coming, but back at the other terminal. So we shuttle back to Terminal Two just to be told
once we arrive at the gate that we now need to go back to Terminal Three. Once we are finally on the new plane we wait another hour while they find some food for the plane. I am sure every one ate during the six hour delay...lets just go! Needless to say there are a few grumpy passengers...not me of course! I am just dreading the two hour drive to the hotel if we can get to the rental car counter before they close at one am. We truly enjoy driving endlessly long stretches of road in the middle of the night, riding in the car after 20 hours of travel time...is so much fun! Why do we do this again...I question my own sanity! Next time~if there is a next time~we will stick with the cheap flights on the red-eye. Every time we pay more for travel during normal travel times we spend all the extra time at the airport with delays. The other thing that is the same from four years ago is my size...Large. How did that happen? At the beginning of the year my marathon training is the best it has been in years. Running is way too much fun carrying a lighter load, but five difficult months later there is a huge shift~in girth~and an unfortunate negative shift in mindset! My only option is to take out my big girl pants, squeeze into them, and get back to business. As hard as it is my theme song "So Far Away" must begin again if I am ever to accomplish my goal. Time to put down the bread and pick up the pace! Since it took me five months to get to my current situation, it will undoubtedly take a few months to get back to running with ease. For now, I will lug around my
transgressions for all to see. What better place is there to trot along than the hot humid hills of Hardy, Kentucky the birthplace of my grandmother. The course strolls for five miles through the main street of her childhood home~I am sure the roads were just dirt paths eighty years ago when she left at twelve.
My grandmother is neither a Hatfield nor a McCoy...but a Kentucky coal miner's daughter!! |
It may be a bit challenging to get to the race location, but the spirit of the people can't be beat. The day before the marathon a free spaghetti dinner is provided at the high
school with a Hatfield and McCoy skit that explains the feud. It is a great time to chat with fellow runners...runners are never shy in discussing our running resumes. We sit with two Steve's one from Texas the other from Florida. Texas Steve has run over 600 marathons including all the continents while Florida Steve is running his 30th state and 30th marathon. It is fun to chat about all things running. We don't last too long since we are going on day two with very little sleep. We make our way to the hotel that looks from the outside like it belongs in a horror movie, but the inside has the most luxuriously comfortable king sized bed.
On race morning we spring out of bed ready to go. The parking is easy and close to the finish with buses that drive around and pick up runners and deposit us at Food City (the start) where they have food and indoor bathrooms. I snack on some watermelon before the race begins. I think I am the only participant dressed in long sleeves and pants, but I want to eliminate the pain of chaffing on my supersized body. Most of the men end up shirtless. The race begins with the firing of the shotgun and we have a police escort for the first mile. The first half remains pleasantly shaded while the second half is definitely toasty, but there is an abundance of everything a runner may
need at all 25 aid stations (watermelon, grapes, bananas, pickles, water, Gatorade, chews, Vaseline, ice and towels. Each half provides unique hill challenges. Blackberry hill that begins at mile seven is long and steep both up and down. As I run through the town of Matewan just before the halfway point there are people out cheering us on. I am eating a banana and someone says to me, "Are you enjoying your lunch?" A little girl points at me and tells her dad, "She is eating a banana!" The second half has a number of rolling hills some trail sections and a wooden suspension bridge just after the golf course at mile 18. The best group of ladies are there handing out cold wet rags to put around our neck to cool us down...
I keep the rag for the rest of the race and dip it in cold water and dump ice into it at each aid station. It keeps me nice and cool as I slow down not because of the heat, but due to my lack of fitness. Small town southern races provide a burst of down home goodness and runners feel the warmth in every way. This time I get such a positive response every time I say I am from California! It is a special and unique little run in the middle of nowhere. The second half is filled with heat humidity, hills and even a few hillbillies having a real life feud over one lady daring to drive across the others' property. I am glad I get through the disputing neighbors without a shotgun coming into sight. These ladies are in the thick of their argument and I don't think they even see the runners as we run in between them as they scream and holler. Other than the"little" drama, it is a great race. I can't stress enough how welcome they make us feel with amazing support and hospitality.
I chat with numerous runners along the way. One gentleman is running with his daughter and son-in-law. I follow him in the first half listening to all his running stories. He is an eight time Boston Marathoner and ran a 3:02 personal best time. When he stops at the potty I pull ahead. He catches up to me in the last few miles and tells me he has been trying to catch me for the last hour. When we hit the final steep climb at Mile 23 he falls back. He did tell me the last mile goes quick,
I hang on to that tidbit of information hoping the last mile passes quickly and that it is less challenging. I chase the ten minute per mile pacer for the last six miles, but can't catch him and he finishes thirty seconds before me. As I cross the finish line I get a fist pump and a high-five from the Hatfield and McCoy representatives and immediately find the nearest seat in the shade. I don't move for the next thirty minutes as I recover and chat with the nicest ladies taking care of all the finishers as we catch our breath and get our legs back. Once I am up and moving the hunger hits and I find the booth that has pulled pork sandwiches and chips for all the runners. After I get my mason jar and my lid
school with a Hatfield and McCoy skit that explains the feud. It is a great time to chat with fellow runners...runners are never shy in discussing our running resumes. We sit with two Steve's one from Texas the other from Florida. Texas Steve has run over 600 marathons including all the continents while Florida Steve is running his 30th state and 30th marathon. It is fun to chat about all things running. We don't last too long since we are going on day two with very little sleep. We make our way to the hotel that looks from the outside like it belongs in a horror movie, but the inside has the most luxuriously comfortable king sized bed.
On race morning we spring out of bed ready to go. The parking is easy and close to the finish with buses that drive around and pick up runners and deposit us at Food City (the start) where they have food and indoor bathrooms. I snack on some watermelon before the race begins. I think I am the only participant dressed in long sleeves and pants, but I want to eliminate the pain of chaffing on my supersized body. Most of the men end up shirtless. The race begins with the firing of the shotgun and we have a police escort for the first mile. The first half remains pleasantly shaded while the second half is definitely toasty, but there is an abundance of everything a runner may
need at all 25 aid stations (watermelon, grapes, bananas, pickles, water, Gatorade, chews, Vaseline, ice and towels. Each half provides unique hill challenges. Blackberry hill that begins at mile seven is long and steep both up and down. As I run through the town of Matewan just before the halfway point there are people out cheering us on. I am eating a banana and someone says to me, "Are you enjoying your lunch?" A little girl points at me and tells her dad, "She is eating a banana!" The second half has a number of rolling hills some trail sections and a wooden suspension bridge just after the golf course at mile 18. The best group of ladies are there handing out cold wet rags to put around our neck to cool us down...
I keep the rag for the rest of the race and dip it in cold water and dump ice into it at each aid station. It keeps me nice and cool as I slow down not because of the heat, but due to my lack of fitness. Small town southern races provide a burst of down home goodness and runners feel the warmth in every way. This time I get such a positive response every time I say I am from California! It is a special and unique little run in the middle of nowhere. The second half is filled with heat humidity, hills and even a few hillbillies having a real life feud over one lady daring to drive across the others' property. I am glad I get through the disputing neighbors without a shotgun coming into sight. These ladies are in the thick of their argument and I don't think they even see the runners as we run in between them as they scream and holler. Other than the"little" drama, it is a great race. I can't stress enough how welcome they make us feel with amazing support and hospitality.
I chat with numerous runners along the way. One gentleman is running with his daughter and son-in-law. I follow him in the first half listening to all his running stories. He is an eight time Boston Marathoner and ran a 3:02 personal best time. When he stops at the potty I pull ahead. He catches up to me in the last few miles and tells me he has been trying to catch me for the last hour. When we hit the final steep climb at Mile 23 he falls back. He did tell me the last mile goes quick,
I hang on to that tidbit of information hoping the last mile passes quickly and that it is less challenging. I chase the ten minute per mile pacer for the last six miles, but can't catch him and he finishes thirty seconds before me. As I cross the finish line I get a fist pump and a high-five from the Hatfield and McCoy representatives and immediately find the nearest seat in the shade. I don't move for the next thirty minutes as I recover and chat with the nicest ladies taking care of all the finishers as we catch our breath and get our legs back. Once I am up and moving the hunger hits and I find the booth that has pulled pork sandwiches and chips for all the runners. After I get my mason jar and my lid
(first place in my age group) I go back to the car to change. The car is an oven and in the process of changing into shorts I sweat more than I did during the entire race. It is a sauna and I can't get out of the car fast enough. (I did not even think to turn the air conditioner on!) I go back to the finish area to wait for my husband who tiredly crosses the line. Without a race to run the next day we take our time and enjoy the music and camaraderie with other runners. I talk at length with fellow runner~John~from North Dakota who finishes just after me.
A runner's high puts most runners in such a happy state and we talk about lots of our running experiences. He has completed several Ironman races which is beyond impressive to me. I will fondly cherish my memories of my grandma's hometown as the friendliest little town.
Our extra day~supposed to be our North Carolina marathon~turns into white water rafting down the New River in West Virginia. On the last trip we zip lined at Adventures on the Gorge, but the warm weather makes for the perfect day to float down the river for six hours including a delicious lunch on the shore. We delight in an afternoon rain storm, but avoid the lightening. We even jump off a cliff into the water...an absolutely exhilarating experience. I only get trapped under the raft one time when we are allowed to float down one of the rapids~trust me once is enough!!
Just a tad scary as the water pushed me faster than the boat and I drink a gallon of river water before bubbling up the other side of the boat in one piece and still breathing. I have to say rafting the rapids is funner than running. Although we still have to come back to North Carolina, we find the perfect activity to fill our extra time before flying home. We even have time to stop in Andy Griffith's hometown, Mt Airy, the inspiration for the Andy Griffith Show. We take a step back in time to a simpler period in our history before we finally fly home and crawl into our bed at 4:30 am eastern time, but only after they make us wait another hour on the plane for a gate to open up. (The pilot says the good news we landed early the bad news we do not have a gate open to park!) Another state down and only seven more states to go...
That trip was too long...how much longer are you going to keep up the traveling nonsense!! |
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