GORUCK Challenge - 9/11 Tribute

This one was my own fault. I mean, I volunteered to fly up to New York City mere days after climbing mountains in Colorado. I could have stayed home and enjoyed the first weekend of the NFL. I had tickets to an FSU game that would have been fun. It's my own fault. But, when a pretty girl tells me she has a place to stay in Hell's Kitchen only a few minutes' walk from Times Square... and it's $60 a night... I can't rightly say 'no,' can I?

Not when it's the GORUCK Challenge 9/11 memorial ruck, I can't.

View from the apartment

I've been to NYC several times, but experiencing the city (a city I LOVE, by the way) during 9/11 tribute time is something special. I landed on Friday afternoon and did what GRTs (Goruck alumni, for you lay-people) are wont to do. I met up with others to drink. This would be something oft-repeated over the course of the long weekend.

Eight of us (I think...? Was it more? Seeing double makes it hard to count.) joined forces to rent an apartment on the 44th floor of a nice complex, and it worked out great. We drank. We ate. We napped (some of us). And, then we met up near the NY Stock Exchange with three full classes of ruckers intent on showing their respect to those that perished 11 years earlier in the only way we knew how: We would punish ourselves for no reason whatsoever.

Oh, it made sense. Don't look at me like that.

About 90 ruckers stepped off at Wall Street (mere feet from where George Washington took the first presidential oath of office) and headed toward the East River. There, on the side of the syringe-laden waters, we did PT for about an hour. Bear crawls. Push-ups. Inchworms. Squats. 403.... 403... 403.

Welcome party along the East River

403. Four-hundred and three. That's the number of first responders that entered the twin towers that day and never made it out. As we held that push-up position, and GRC cadre barked out abstract terms like respect, honor, and commitment, I thought about those 403 and what they were thinking as they ran inside.

Push-ups are nothing.

We were sticky, sweaty, and emotionally drained... perfect time for some water PT. In the East River. This was healthy. We also found a log that NYC bums appeared to use as a toilet. Also... very healthy. This log was then lugged all over lower Manhattan.

Seriously, stop looking at me like that. It totally makes sense.

For 8 hours, we fought the night, our cadre (Chris), that log, and drunken New Yorkers. Then, the rains hit and hit hard. We handed off the log to another class and took their coupons (sand and plywood) in exchange. Good riddance to the craplog...

We jumped in the Hudson River. We buddy carried through a neighborhood comprised largely of people with chauffeurs and expense accounts. We played the most insane, sadistic version of Duck, Duck, Goose around the Washington Park fountain that I have ever seen. We blindly ignored the "Don't Get in Fountain" signs as we bobbed up and down reciting the Spongebob Squarepants theme song (okay, you know what? Fine.. it doesn't make sense.) It was exhausting and inspiring. We fought our way back to Ground Zero only to be detoured by Chris after he found a flooded and muddy baseball field.

The 9/11 patch

We split into teams and crawled, crab-walked, and bear-crawled around the bases. It pays to be a winner. It also pays to cheat... which means it devolved into a disastrous, disgusting mud fight on the banks of the lower East Side. To think, if Chris had been arrested earlier that night (a distinct possibility given the night's events and the cops' warnings), we would have missed out on that lovely event.

We had time hacks to the end point. Casualties mounted as we neared... Chris wasn't happy with our pace even though we were moving faster than we had in the past 12 hours. We had all of our coupons and six casualties to carry as we made the final push.

We survived. Chris, a sadistic bastard that I had met over beers after the July 4th ruck in DC and who had led our climbs out in Colorado, handed out patches to some desperately thankful new GRTs and alumni alike. The special 9/11 patch we received will always remind me of the 403...

Class 238 - Hoorah

The 9/11 ruck wasn't more difficult or crazier than the others I've done, but it meant something different. That's for sure. Several of us went down to Ground Zero on 9/11 to 'feel' the atmosphere. Not knowing what to expect, I braced myself for a solemn morning.

O'Hara's Bar at the foot of the Towers on 9/11/12

Instead, we found laughter and friendship. Firefighters from all over the country converged on local bars amid the bonds of brotherhood. They'd never met each other, but they shared something... much like GRTs that have never met. Having someone stop me because I am in a GORUCK shirt and talk to me like an old friend is oddly calming. And, this is coming from someone that hates talking to other people more than he hates eating green peas. [Note: I really hate green peas.]

On 9/11, there are cops everywhere. Ostensibly, it's to secure the area and prevent anything dangerous from happening while keeping the thousands of on-lookers at bay. But, I talked to several of these guys and saw it in their faces. They weren't there because they were working. They were there because they wanted to be. They were making pilgrimages of their own, even if it was on the clock.

New York is a great city. The traffic is horrible. The people are aloof and largely dispassionate to those around them. But, that's because they have to be. There are just too many of them walking around. I ran around Central Park in the days following the ruck and had a great time. People were everywhere, but I might as well have been by myself (or, at most, with my running buddy, Cary). It's amazing to be surrounded by people and feel so independent.

Some people hate the big city... if my job allowed me to live there, I would in a heartbeat....

It's worth noting that I deleted about 1500 words from the end of this blog that went into some detail as to how the rest of the long weekend panned out. As I reread it, the stories of friends ripping off their pants in bars, getting roofied and wandering the streets until 8AM, and passing out face-first on an Ottoman didn't come across as 'high culture.' Plus, I would have felt bad identifying them (especially the one that decided to sleep walk and urinate all over the apartment).

But, they know who they are...

It's worth noting that we DID go see Phantom of the Opera. Yea, that's right. It wasn't all about the drinking.

I'd seen the play before, but it was quite good.

Then, we went drinking.

Lower Manhattan from the deck of the Empire Sate Building

Race Report: Finish on the Fifty Half Marathon [New York: State #7]

This is going to be short and sweet... mostly because there is little good I can say about my experience with the Rapid Running Buffalo Half Marathon.

"But, wait, Russ. This says you ran the Finish on the Fifty Half Marathon."

Exactly.

I registered for the June 30 race about two months prior to the date, willing to pay the high entry fee ($85) since I happened to be in the area during my road trip. Since the time of my arrival in the city was questionable, I opted to pay an additional $20 (seriously?) for race-morning pick-up. Total rip off.

Well, on June 21st - the day before I left on my drive and only 9 days before the race - Rapid Running sent out an email postponing the race to an unspecified fall date. I was miffed because there was no way I'd make it up there in the fall. They offered to transfer registrations to another RR event, but none fit my schedule or were anywhere near me. I emailed asking (politely) for a refund knowing it was a lost cause. I've come to find out thousands of others did the same (some not so politely). Apparently, RR's excuse was that they hadn't prepared for so many entrants. Well, how about you cap the entry number then, geniuses? STOP TAKING ENTRIES.

Rumors swirled that they didn't have a sponsor and that was the problem. Regardless, I was annoyed with the lack of customer support (a constant diatribe I have about America in all industries). So, I was prepared to adjust my drive accordingly when visitbuffalo.com went WAY out of their way to put on a comparable event.

Visit Buffalo recognized the smear that RR placed on the city and in 8 DAYS got sponsors, community approval (including cops), and Buffalo Bills front office concurrence to run the race. In 8 days. Now, it wasn't perfect, but I give them total credit for pulling this off.

About 500 people showed up to race. Where were these thousands that RR claimed? Admittedly, the experience left bitter tastes in the mouths of many, but only 500? Visit Buffalo was able to get t-shirts for us (sweet!) but no medals (a disappointment to many... especially those that had signed up with RR for this event as their FIRST race).

We met early in the morning at the Bills clubhouse for packet picket. The indoor practice facility was impressive, but I've seen much better facilities on college campuses. Oh, and the Bills play in Orchard Park, NY. It's a nice area with rolling hills and... cows. But there is absolutely nothing out there but the stadium. Why Buffalo chose to build their stadium in BFE is beyond me. Why a professional football player would choose to play for Buffalo is similarly confusing.

The bare-bones organization made for a hectic start, but we were quickly off and running through the pastures of eastern New York. it was actually a nice run but not at all what I expected. The field was minimal, so long stretches would go by where I would be near no one. A few overpasses and culverts produced hills, and it began to rival those I saw in Tennessee. I started fast (something unusual for me), and I felt it as I toured the marshes and cattle fields of miles 10 and 11. But, I fought forward because of what was coming.

RR had promised a finish on the 50 yard line of Ralph Wilson stadium, and Visit Buffalo had matached the promise. We turned into the tunnels and emerged under the goalposts for a mad dash through the dozens of spectators to the 50 yard line. It wasn't as grandiose as I had imagined weeks earlier, but it was certainly a memorable experience. Even better? I set another PR (my second for the trip) in 1:54:17.

Rapid Running's complete disregard for its customers made a large hill for Visit Buffalo to climb, but they did it well considering their resources. And, the Finish on the Fifty was certainly one I will remember.

I can't post a picture of a non-existent medal, and my distance from Buffalo makes it unlikely I'll run another race there. So, I can't recommend this race. But, given what they pulled off, I'm sure that next year (Visit Buffalo enjoyed the 8 days of confusion and was considering making it an annual, better-organized-with-more-time event) it will be an improvement.

However, I won't be running another Rapid Running race (they aren't a fly-by-night operation... they have a somewhat large presence in racing) again.