Last Call at Wakulla

From my experience I’ve known runners to be creatures of habit.  They find a brand of running shoes that provide the comfort and support they need and use them exclusively if not religiously.  They blaze a favorite trail known only to them and run it again and again until they’re able to know what time it is simply by realizing where they are on the route at any given time.  They discover a drink or a snack—sometimes both that has served them well during their runs and refuse to try anything else.  

And if that runner is anything like me, they find a race they really enjoy and die a thousand deaths when that race is no more. 

The first race falling into that category was the Olander Park 24-Hour Run, held on a shaded 1.09-mile asphalt path around a beautiful lake in Sylvania, Ohio.  Race Director Tom Falvey had the unique ability of making everyone feel like a champion: The runner who completed 50 miles in 24 hours was given the same accolades as the winner who ran more than 150.  Over time the number of entrants no longer supported the expenses for conducting the 24-Hour Run, so in 2003 it was turned into a 100-Mile event.  I ran it twice more and then—in the blink of an eye—it was gone.  However, the memories remain. In its 24-hour format, completing one hundred and twenty-nine miles in 2002 which helped me land an invitation to the 2003 Badwater Ultramarathon.  As a 100-mile event, running with my friend Gary Griffin in 2004 and seeing him finish his first 100-miler, and then Gary and I running it again in 2005 where we both saw mutual friend Susan Lance finish her first 100-miler.

The second race that fell by the wayside was the Atlanta Marathon.  Since 1981 I had spent every Thanksgiving morning lining up for ‘the South’s oldest marathon’ until it was taken away—cold turkey, no less—in 2010.  Out of respect I ran the marathon course on Thanksgiving morning for several more years after that until I grew weary of running on a route filled with unchaperoned holiday morning traffic in busy downtown Atlanta.        

Last year I said my goodbyes to the good people at Brooks Elementary School in Brooks, Georgia as their PTO put on the 31^st and final edition of the Brooks Day 10K.  I’ll miss so much about this quaint little race held in conjunction with the Brooks Day Festival on the second Saturday in May: Walking the halls of the school to use the restroom one last time before the race and seeing all the students’ drawings and paintings proudly displayed on the bulletin boards, attending the awards presentation and listening for the names of the runners I ran with every weekend as they were called to the main stage to receive their awards, and heading over to the festivities in the park afterwards to watch the youngsters play T-Ball while enjoying a hot, fresh funnel cake courtesy of one of the local merchants. 

This December I’ll be heading down to the Florida panhandle to run in the Tallahassee Ultra Distance Classic (TUDC).  Next year the race moves to a new venue and I want to enjoy the cozy confines of Wakulla Springs State Park—where it’s been held since I fell in love with it the very first time I ran it back in 1998—one last time.  The quiet seclusion and natural beauty the park offers will take a back seat on the second Saturday in December however, because that’s when the ultrarunning community gathers in Wakulla for its annual family reunion and ‘run through the jungle’ (as the event has been called in recent years) for the last time.

In my 17-year love affair with the TUDC the event has been directed by two husband-and-wife teams whose organization and attention to detail is surpassed only by their commitment to the sport of running and shared passion for making sure each and every runner has the best ultra experience possible.  (On how many race applications have you been asked to name your favorite aid station refreshments?)  I was welcomed to Wakulla by then-Race Directors Fred and Margaret Deckert that first time and when the event was passed along to current Race Directors Gary and Peg Griffin (that would be the same Gary Griffin who ran his first 100-miler with me back in 2004), I’m happy to report nothing was lost in translation.  (Next year when the torch is passed along to Jeff and JoLena Bryan I trust that will be the case as well.)  The TUDC remains a first-class event, but more importantly is continues to be a family affair. 

The host Gulf Winds Track Club always has plenty of members on hand to provide support.  Enthusiastically calling our your name as you finish a *lap and meticulously notating your split time on a clipboard, carefully filling your bottle full of your favorite sports drink or enthusiastically running a lap with you because you need an emotional lift, they do it all.  Hot soup, free massages and awards created by local artists are available after you’ve finished with your 50-kilometers or 50-miles (your choice!).  From my personal experience—10 trips to Wakulla and almost 400 miles of running—I can honestly I’ve never made a request that wasn’t granted (including the year I asked a volunteer to take down my Darkside Running Club banner because I’d just spent more than eight hours running 50-miles in monsoon conditions and 41-degree temperatures).

*Originally one lap was an intimate 2.07-mile route through the park. 

In 2010 it was modified to a 10-kilometer route, much of it outside of the confines of

Wakulla Springs State Park. 

The Tallahassee Ultra Distance Classic has a storied history (do yourself a favor and research it on the internet when you have some time) and is the proud home of numerous record-setting performances and countless first-time ultra finishers.  On a personal level I’ve forged many personal relationships at Wakulla that have stood the test of time as well as the  endless miles we’ve run together over the years.

I have many fond memories of my 10 trips to Wakulla Springs State Park.  When I return to the Wakulla Lodge this year to run the TUDC one last time I have no doubt that each and every one of them will run through my mind at some point during the weekend (I always make the TUDC a weekend adventure, driving down on Friday and driving home on Sunday). 

The memory that stands out most is that second Saturday in December in 2007.  I had just lost both of my parents within a period of six weeks prior to the TUDC and thought--although I wasn’t particularly keen on running 31 miles—that being around some familiar faces would do me good.  Fifteen minutes prior to the start, Race Director Gary gave his usual spirited and motivational pre-race speech and ended it by dedicating the race to the memories of my mom and dad.  Then once the race began I ran the first couple of laps with Amy Costa, who offered me an eight-mile-per-hour shoulder to lean on as she spoke about how much her father meant to her before transitioning to asking me questions about my parents.  I couldn’t have paid for better therapy.

Come to find out I was exactly right: Being around some familiar faces did me good.                       

Especially when the familiar faces are family.