Charley is like a brother and the final 12.5 miles of the marathon were difficult for him as he was plagued with muscle cramps in his calves. I ran and walked—in my basketball sneakers—that final stretch with him, determined to help him finish. And there we were, “the day after.”
“Hey Donny, we should get together and run more before I leave to go home to China,” Charley said.
“You know, there’s this thing called the Green Mountain Relay if you are interested,” Donny responded with a sly chuckle. “It’s a mere 200-mile, 36-leg relay covering the length of Vermont. And by the way, it’s less than four weeks away.” His suggestion, I believe, was meant more as a joke than a real challenge.
But when Charley gets something in his head, he’s like a dog with a bone. He just won’t let it go. He jumped at the opportunity. Despite my reservations—I’ve never been big on the sport of running—I thought that this would be a great send-off for my brother as he was due to return home to China the week after the Relay.
This is the third year of the Green Mountain Relay, and it is operated by a group that sponsors a similar event in Colorado. The relays are fund-raisers with all the teams raising money to benefit area nonprofit organizations. The course stretches from Jeffersonville, a town in Lamoille County about 30 miles to the northeast of Burlington, down the spine of Vermont before racers cross the finish line in Bennington. Runners can compete for prizes in several different categories.
So, Charley and I recruited the runners for the team, none of whom had any formal training, but they were all great friends. Samantha (Sam), Robyn, Jodi and Jasmine (Jaz) were on board and ready.
The recruitment, of course, proved far easier than the Relay itself. I think all of us were thinking, ‘How tough can this be? We run between five and nine miles, sleep for a few hours, and then do it again. . .easy enough!’
We named our relay team “Team Cox” in honor of our trainer, mentor and good friend Donny Wilcox. Donny is a familiar face in Chelsea. He’s the guy you see running through Chelsea and standing upside down on one hand doing pushups—you know who we mean. He looks like a throwback from the 1960s. He’s 62 years old and crazy as ever.
We left it up to Charley to decide what category we should register for—big mistake! He registered Team Cox as the first ever 6x6 Ultra High School Team. Charley knew exactly what he was doing, but for the rest of us ... ignorance was bliss.
While most of the other teams had 12 runners to share the 36 legs, we were just six high school kids, running 200 miles, and we had to run in the same order that we started—there would be no swapping legs if one of our teammates felt that they just couldn’t run their assigned leg.
Donny spent countless hours reviewing the route maps to determine the best possible running order for our ages and varying abilities. Charley, our most seasoned runner, was chosen to be Runner 5 and would endure the most difficult legs. Little did we know that as time passed, those relay legs classified as “easy” were as difficult as those classified as “very hard.”
Fortunately, we had some great resources to aid our training. Robyn works part-time for Dr. Robert Rinaldi, DPM, a board-certified podiatrist and podiatric surgeon as well as a former nationally-ranked long distance runner. Rinaldi spent time with us explaining all of the “what ifs” from the perspective of both a runner and medical professional.
We absorbed pages of information ranging from dehydration to the right foods to eat and when to eat them. We also recruited my parents, Mark and Sherri Richardson. They helped with our fund-raising efforts, purchased the necessary gear and secured relay vans for our transportation. They and Jaz’s mom, Laurie Braman, became our van drivers, nurses, cheerleaders and, of course, nagging parents.
We heard some familiar refrains: “Drink your water with a teaspoon. Don’t eat that now. Eat a banana. You really need to sleep.”
Lastly, we recruited Jaz’s sister, Michelle, to be a running buddy for the girls during the nighttime runs. Both Michelle and Donny proved to be so much more than running buddies—both ran between 40 and 50 miles of the relay just to keep our spirits up and help us to realize our goal.
June 21, the first day of the relay, came more quickly than any of us expected. But we were “ready.” Our starting runner, 13-year-old Jaz, was a ball of nerves. We left our house at 4:30 a.m. to get to Jeffersonville for the 6:30 a.m. start time. We each finished our first legs all smiles and cheers and slightly ahead of our anticipated running times. We felt great!
Our running times became slower as we moved through the course. We all endured physical, mental and emotional obstacles at different points. Jodi twisted her ankle during one of her middle-of-the-night runs. Donny was about to call for a van pickup, but Jodi was adamant, “No, I will finish my leg. We will finish this relay.” And she did. At the end of her leg, Jodi and a couple of other runners were transported by Donny’s son, Russell, to a motel for medical treatment, showers and much needed rest.
Sam and Jaz both ran in torrential downpours. Jaz even made it through golf-ball sized hail. Then thunder clapped and lightning bolts zig-zagged from cloud to ground. My mother insisted that we suspend the race for the safety of us kids . . . nag, nag, nag. We were so angry at her. She just worries too much. In fact, Robyn, normally a very mild-mannered, well-spoken, respectful 16-year-old, had some colorful things to say about the suspension. The Relay was definitely taking its toll.
We had no choice ... mom had the final say on this one. We waited out the storm for about 20 minutes and then continued the course.
By the time we reached our last legs, our bodies were physically wrecked. We each felt so alone. Not even your fellow teammates could help you get through your last leg because they were either prepping for or recovering from their last leg. The only thing we had left was our minds and even they were playing games with us. We pushed forward, however, focusing on the obstacle ahead and overcoming each challenge any way possible.
Despite our fears that this would never end, Team Cox finished the Green Mountain Relay on Sunday, June 22, within the required relay time. Sam, runner 6, took on the final leg. We all stumbled out of the vans two miles before the finish line to help with final push. We ran some and we walked some. We joked and we complained. When we rounded a corner and saw the finish line ahead, Team Cox along with Donny and Michelle, formed a horizontal line, linked arms, and broke through the yellow ribbon together.
We hugged, we laughed and we cried together. We sat on a lawn in Bennington, eating hotdogs and hamburgers and swigging Coke as though we had all just been rescued from having been marooned on an island for the last 15 years. We then piled back into the suddenly very silent vans, in our seas of private thoughts until our tired, lifeless bodies slumped into a deep sleep for the two-hour drive home.
On June 23, the day after, Team Cox and their families gathered at my home for a celebratory pizza party. As we looked at pictures and relived the weekend together, we said “Donny, let’s do it again next year!” Donny scratched his head beneath his well-worn bandana, smoothed his long gray beard and grinned with satisfaction and deep pride.
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