Guest Fits: What It’s Like to Run Hood to Coast…While Living in the Cayman Islands!

Phil is originally from England but has lived in the Cayman Islands (lucky!) since 1995 with his wife Claire and their dog Sydney. Phil ran his first (and what was supposed to be only) marathon in 2007, the fateful Chicago race that was closed down {I ran this race too- it was terrible!} Phil only signed up to run Chicago as a bucket list item upon turning 40. But now Phil has run TWELVE marathons, including a marathon on all seven continents.  <– So impressive!

Prior to running his first marathon at age 40, Phil claims that he was not a runner of any description whatsoever.  Now he has accomplished so much (all seven continents is quite a feat!). Next, he is working on completing the World Marathon Majors, with Berlin this fall (Phil- don’t forget to read my recap HERE for some tips!) and then Tokyo and, hopefully, Boston in 2015.

Okay, that was a lengthy introduction, but Phil is an accomplished man who deserves a long intro!

He could probably do all kinds of guest posts about running a marathon in places like Antactica, but today he’s guest blogging for you about his experience running the Hood To Coast relay.

From Phil:
A couple of years ago I was invited to run Hood To Coast in a team with some running friends.  I signed up without really knowing what it was all about. Having failed to get a spot for the 2013 race, we got lucky for the following year.  So, fast forward to August 2014 and I now realise that Hood To Coast is a big deal.  A very big deal.

For those that are not familiar with the race, it markets itself as the Mother of All Relays:  a 197 mile, 36 leg, relay race in Oregon from Mount Hood to Seaside on the Pacific Coast.   Whilst there are related races for walkers and high school students, the relay proper has some 1,000+ teams, each with 8-12 runners, and assisted by hundreds of marshals along the way.

Living overseas (in the Cayman Islands), my role in planning and organization was limited to booking flights and sending money when asked. But for the team captain, it appeared to be a mammoth task involving booking hotels, sourcing minivans, stocking up on water, snacks, tents, lights, maps, chairs, sleeping bags and a host of other things.  Minivans seem to be a major issue:  pretty much every van in the Portland area gets rented for the weekend.

Whilst there are various strategies for those teams looking to win their categories, the more social teams adopt a standard approach of 2 vans, 6 runners per van.  Some teams switch around the driving between the runners, but we had an additional driver in each van.

The relay kicked off Friday morning, and waves of runners left for the next 12 hours:  our slot was 8.30am, and so Van #1 headed off to Timberline Lodge (used for outside hotel shots in The Shining, for the movie geeks) and, as Van #2, we headed off to the first exchange point:  Runners in Van #1 do legs 1-6, exchange to Van #2, who then do legs 7-12, back to Van #1 and so on.

Arriving at the end of leg 6 we encountered for the 1^st time something we would become familiar with for the next 30 hours:  traffic jams.  Minivans of all shapes and sizes, and hundreds of runners, filled up every patch of ground, and it was quickly obvious that most teams view the race as a social and fun event, not a serious time challenge.  Jams were the norm for the rest of the race, including the Mother of All Jams leading into exchange 24-25, where even the marshals confessed that they had not seen it as bad before.

Living in Grand Cayman, and thus running at sea level and with minimal elevation, I was given legs 9, 21 and 33:  not much in the way of climbs, albeit the 2^ndlongest distance of any set.  Other legs involved either a) steep descents (legs 1 and 2 being down the side of Mount Hood from ~5,600 feet above sea level) or b) lung-busting climbs.  A few runners were unlucky enough to get c) all of the above!

Suffice to say it was not the best 2 hours sleep of our lives.   Still, at 1am our team-mate arrived, we sent off our runner and headed off into the night, with my own leg kicking off around 3am, being 5miles downhill all the way.

We picked up our 3^rd set of legs mid-afternoon in the Oregon countryside, and mine was 7.7 miles of rolling hills in the sunshine:  with hills rather than heat being the source of misery for me.

The race finishes on the beach at Seaside, Oregon (home to a Lewis and Clark monument for the history geeks):  the population of the town is less than 7,000, and so you can imagine how overrun the place gets as thousands upon thousands of runners, friends and crew converge for the day.   Each team is allowed to finish as a group, held in corrals until being called forward one at a time:  it makes the finish feel a little forced, but ensures good and obvious photo-opportunities.  And, if nothing else, getting out of the van for a shower was a welcome change….

All in all, Hood To Coast was a great experience:  thoroughly glad I got to take part, and if you ever get a chance to run, grab it.