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Once a padawan, now a freaking Jedi. I run really far, I write a bunch, and have super powers that allow me to grow amazing facial hair.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

The Race That Never Was

A few weeks ago when I was fresh off my first finish of the Laurel Ultra I saw Burning River looming in the distance, with a longer gap in my race schedule than I've had all year. I couldn't resist the temptation of a local (and cheap) 50 miler at Caesar's Creek State Park to quench my appetite, so I signed up for the Dawg Gone Long Run that was to take place this morning.

I didn't get off work till 11PM last night and with the race taking place an hour and a half from Columbus, this left me little time to sleep. After getting home and making some chia gel I racked out and set my alarm for 4:30AM. The park was a straight shot down I-71 South and not at all hard to get to. I arrived on sight just before 6AM, with plenty of time to find where we'd be stepping off (or so I thought). I figured I would see signs, ribbons, or something of that nature once I got close, so I played my cards on the fly.

Yeah, some balloons and an arrow
would have been nice.
I followed my GPS directions, which took me to a place that looked like the site where one of the Friday the 13th movies were filmed. It was a single lane dirt road with overgrown trees leading me to a rusty fence that had a bunch of faded warning signs telling me I was trespassing. I wasn't too worried, after all, I still had 30 minutes to spare. Mikayla called me around that time to try to weasel her way out of running the race, which I wasn't going to let her do, but she was also in the area, just as lost as I was. I then looked up the race website for some clarification and used the exact coordinates on the page to plug into my phone. It said that I was only 5-minutes away, not bad, I could find it and then guide Mikayla in once I was there.

I asked one of the locals for directions,
but all this asshole did was stare at me.
The new directions took me to a random spot on the side of the highway, no one in sight, runners or otherwise. I started going down random roads that led to different parts of the park, but to no avail. It became apparent that I wasn't going to make it to the start in time and Mikayla's less than stellar navigational skills weren't serving her any better. Even after the clock struck 6:30AM I spent another 10 minutes searching without any sign of hope. 

Mikayla didn't really want to run in the first place and to be honest, I wasn't overly excited to do it either. This wasn't the Masochist, Laurel, or some other big race... it was just some junk miles to lead into Burning River. We decided we were done searching and went to McDonalds instead. 

I went to the bathroom and came
out to this. Mikayla has a thing
for clowns I guess?