Keys to Success

As with most everything in life, it is important to stay within the moment. That certainly applies to running and also to the weekend of extreme racing accomplished this past weekend by the running team which represented the Mid-Texas Symphony (MTS) at the Texas Independence Relay (TIR). This is a race which is ever in motion. Once the starting cannon is fired (it is a jolt!), feet are on the ground and moving forward until the finish line, over 203 miles away, is reached. There's no point in reflecting back, not can a runner look any further ahead than the next step, the next few feet ahead. Be here now could well have been coined for just such situations. Contrary to the notion often expressed by those who detest running, every step is not an endless repetition of the previous. The course ebbs and flows in what runners call rollers. And then there are other runners, strung out for seemingly endless miles. Now and then there are encounters and a race might occur within the race. I am infinitely satisfied by these competitive bursts and must fight back emotions when I see the runners congratulate each other at the ends of these footraces. "Great running," they will say to each other. The sportsmanship is incredible.

Running is largely a solitary activity, at least for many runners. Yes, I encounter quite a few runners who have running partners and there are even instances of running groups which go out together once a week on the "long run" which is part of every distance runners regimen. Nevertheless, the concept of running as a team, especially within a relay structure, is quite different than an individual runner competing against a marathon, or half, or a 10K. Admittedly, when I first formed the Mid-Texas Symphony running team I thought it might be a one event experiment. First, someone has to take the proverbial bull by the horns and organize the darned thing. That first team of 6 runners came together as an easily built team of 5. Getting the 6th runner was a challenge. In the end we fielded 6 runners, but only 5 bonded into a team. It's an experiment in evolution and chemistry. Three years ago, when we were challenged to expand the team to 10 for our first TIR, we were plagued by recruitment problems which almost doomed us from the start. A scant week and a half before the race I had only 7 confirmed runners. Others had said maybe, but had then dissolved into the ether. If not for miraculous intervention, I would have pulled our Mid-Texas Symphony team out of the inaugural TIR. That miracle came in the form of a couple of runners from Houston signing with the team and then another last minute email from a runner in Caldwell. Bingo - 10 runners. But of the 10, only 4 of us had ever run together. How much trust could one put in strangers known only via email?

We gathered part of our ragged team at a motel in Seguin the night before the first race. Holly, from Caldwell, was a band mom and a devoted, if sporadic, distance runner. Marie and Alan, from Houston, were chemists who liked to run and welcomed the adventure of an ultra relay. Liz, one of our original MTS runners, myself, and my sister Brenda (brought on as the designated Wrunner Wrangler) met Holly, Marie and Alan for the first time over dinner. Ready or not, we were about to be thrust into a weekend of running which would require not only endurance but also a great deal of trust. It seemed like it would work, but only the rigorous days ahead would truly prove whether we had a team, or not. We met our other runners the morning of the first race. Brian and his wife Denise were new and unknown to me. I knew their cousin Maeve only by reputation as a fine runner and the daughter of the Mid-Texas Symphony's librarian Ethne. Rounding out the team were Steve and his son Jonathan. They were part of the original MTS racing team. So.....here's what we had: 5 old friends (including Brenda the Wrangler) and 6 perfect strangers. We would get acquainted over the next 32 hours and see if we had a real team when we crossed the finish line at the historic San Jacinto Monument.

Anyone who has ever been part of team knows there are a lot more things which can go wrong than can go right. Thankfully, we got it mostly right that first year. By the end of the race, we were 12 friends, 10 runners, one wrangler and one other driver, Dorian, whom we knew as one of our original MTS runners. "Was the chemistry right?" I asked of Alan and Marie. "He's making a joke," said Marie and we all laughed while pledging to be back the following year to renew our newly made friendships.

In 2009 I added 2 more runners to bring us up to the maximum size of a 12 runner team. The "new" runners were Dorian and Fred, the husband and wife who were already part of the core MTS running team. Once again, the chemistry was great. Although we hadn't been together as a complete group since the year before, it was like a reunion of old friends. We laughed together and cried joyful tears together when Holly revealed at the end of the weekend that she had just beat an horrific brush with cancer. Let's do this again in 2010! It was unanimous.

The 2010 team had to be revamped slightly when Denise and Brian moved to Germany. Like the first year, finalizing the new team came to the last minute. I called on Arturo, whom I knew only through mutual friends and from talking to him on the phone about classical music, which he loves so deeply. David, a bassoonist who has played in the past with the Mid-Texas Symphony, finally became the 12th runner on the new team. Again, we had a group which was untested as a team. Would it work? We had set for ourselves a goal of breaking 30 hours in the 2010 race. On paper, it looked possible, but as every General Manager will tell you, the proof is in the pudding (strange phrase, isn't it, said to have been stated long ago in Cervante's Don Quixote as "the proof of the pudding is the eating"). Amazingly, we navigated around a couple of speed bumps and complications as the team gelled. The rookies quickly took to the challenge and in the end we achieved our goal of a sub 30 hours race. Our official finish time was 29 hours, 42 minutes, 48 seconds. "Shall we do this again next year?" I polled our ecstatic if weary team at the finish line. "Count on me!" came the unanimous response. It's times like this you are glad to be the captain.

So.....embedded in this narrative are a few keys to success, not only in building on fitness goals and achievements, but also in cementing friendships which will last long after the lactic acid has settled out and the muscles are no longer sore. What we do in keeping ourselves fit should be part of a whole life process, and that includes friendship, trust and respect annealed by the fire of accomplishment.