TCC sent six of its members to Stockbridge, MA on September 12th for the 34th Annual Josh Billings Runaground. The race is the second oldest relay race of its type in the U.S., with an unbroken streak dating back to 1977. The event includes a 25-mile mass start bike race followed by a 5-mile paddle and culminated by a 10K run that finishes on the scenic grounds of the Tanglewood resort.
The seed for the 2010 event was planted in my head several months ago when Dave Jacoboski sought me out to be his cohort on a two-man relay team. Dave’s plan was that he would do the bike leg, then we both would canoe, and then I would run the last 10K. Perfect, I thought - I haven’t run a step in two months and I have not been in a canoe in 10 years – I’ll be well rested for both events. Dave’s chosen name for our team, “No clue what to do”, was reassuring.
Neither of us had a serviceable two-person water-craft, so I sought out a boat from Sue Audette of the Columbia Canoe Club. She had an ancient Jensen racing canoe made of Kevlar (same stuff they use for bullet proof vests). Weighing in at a meager 30 pounds and possessing a set of sensual hydrodynamic curves, this boat was designed for one thing – going really fast in a straight line. All other attributes, such as comfort, maneuverability, and balance come a distant second. Staying upright in such a craft is akin to keeping your feet in your bike pedals when your forward progress halts at a stoplight. I’d done some canoe racing in high school with my father, but that was in the good ‘ol days when we raced the same boats we used for bass fishing.
Dave and I decided we’d better see if we could keep the boat upright prior to race day.
Dave and I decided we’d better see if we could keep the boat upright prior to race day.
We headed out to Mansfield Hollow for a test drive. After paddling around the reservoir more or less successfully for a half hour, we decided we’d try our Le Mans starting technique whereby we would run to our boat parked on the shore, pick it up and sprint to the water’s edge, quickly plant ourselves in the skinny seats, and power onto the course. Before a small army of spectators assembled at the Boat Launch, we zipped into the water and headed out to sea at a smart pace. This all ended abruptly when we got a little wobbly, Dave grabbed the gunwales (a canoeing no-no), and we both took a trip into Willimantic’s drinking water supply. The crowd cheered wildly, we sheepishly swam back to the shore, and declared to all assembled that we were now race-ready. I told Dave not to grab the gunwales again and threatened him bodily harm should he disobey this order.
The week before the race Dave had made a tactical error by sending TCC member Kathy Manizza (a woman he had never met) a picture of his rump adorned with his Expo Wheelman bike shorts and sporting the caption: “this is the last thing you’ll see as we go flashing by you”. Unbeknownst to Dave, Kathy has raced her canoe at the national level, and she and her partner/husband Ken were well positioned to spank Dave’s aforementioned rump.
Dave's Unfortunate Rump Shot, which was included with immature Trash Talk to Kathy Manizza prior to event“The Josh”, as it is affectionately referred to by the participants, is unique for relay races in that it starts with a 400-person mass start bike race. Licensed riders are allowed to start in the front to help sort things out. When the gun sounds, it is a mad sprint right off the line. Speeds approach 30 mph in the first several miles before the course take a turn and heads up a hill at about the two-mile mark. The objective is to position yourself in a pack that is moving as fast as you can manage, and to not get dropped by that pack on the hills. Both Dave J. and Skip Kuzel, who was riding for another team, were victimized early in the bike leg when they got behind others who dropped chains or otherwise slowed down on the first of the big hills and prevented their ability to get into front groups. Both eventually managed to get into reasonably fast packs and headed toward the transition to the canoe.
Meanwhile, back at the transition zone, I had discovered another TCC’er, Amanda Lawrence, who had signed up as the runner for a team of folks she found on the Josh Billings website. Amanda has cycled the race three times and run it three times, making her the TCC veteran of the Josh. As I waited for Dave I saw Kathy Manizza take the handoff from Ken and saw Skip Kuzel make his handoff. Dave’s rump was nowhere in site as Kathy flashed by. Dave came in a few seconds later in about 75th place, and by the time we’d morphed him from a cyclist into a paddler at the transition zone we had probably slipped to 125th. Remembering the previous day’s unfortunate outcome, we placed our boat carefully in the water and started off cautiously. As our confidence grew we got into a rhythm – seven or eight strokes on each side before I yelled “hut” from the stern, the international utterance for “switch sides before we go in a circle”.
The boat course makes two trips around “Stockbridge Bowl” before the transition to the run. Dave and I were pleased with our paddling prowess, weaving our way through 25 or 30 slower boats during the five mile voyage and avoiding (mostly) collisions with our fellow competitors.
On one or two occasions as the boat got wobbly, Dave considered grabbing the gunwales again. As is the custom in canoe racing, Dave got a strong dressing-down from his stern-man to dissuade him from this temptation – KEEP PADDLING, YOU DOG! Kathy was competing in a solo racing kayak, which we had no hope of catching, so although I saw a lot of Dave’s rump from the stern position of the canoe, his promise to show Kathy his back-side was not realized.
As we completed the canoe leg and came into the transition to the run, I hopped out of the boat and grabbed my running shoes and socks, which I had strategically stowed in a large Ziploc bag with a towel to keep dry. As I pulled the bag from the boat I was disheartened to see that the “waterproof" Ziploc bag was half full of water and the contents were no drier than the shoes I’d just waded ashore in. Undaunted, I changed into my sodden New Balance’s, and hit the running course.
Transitioning from the canoe, where your legs are all curled up in the boat, to the run, where they are expected to propel you powerfully over the tarmac, is a cramp-laden challenge that any triathlete can appreciate. With leaden thighs, I trudged onto the course, competing against the three and four-person relay teams that were using fresh runners untainted by having already done the bike or canoe legs. I had aspirations of catching Ken from the Kathy and Ken team (and showing him my rump), but this was not to be as Kathy had kayaked her way to an insurmountable margin. The 10K running route goes around the Stockbridge Bowl on rolling roads and then up a nasty one-mile hill to the finish on the grounds of Tanglewood. I pushed through the run, passing another 10 or 15 people, and turned into finish stretch in time to see 2:59:50 on the finish line clock. Pretending that breaking three hours actually meant something, I sprinted across the line five seconds ahead of that lofty goal and found out to my shock that no one really cared.
The Josh Billings organizers stay up late at night concocting creative racing categories. The result is that the race has an amazing 35 categories, and lots of people walk away winners. Of the TCC members present, Dave and I won the two-person canoe category (out of 13 in our class), Kathy and Ken won the two-person mixed kayak category, Skip won one of the relay categories, and Amanda’s team came away with a second in yet another category. Now that we’ve tasted the sweet nectar of victory, it’s going to be hard for Dave and me to stay away next year. I’ve already suggested to Dave that he not send Kathy any inflammatory e-mails or rump photographs prior to next year’s event.
Dave and John heading into the Berkshire sunset with their victory mugs.
