1998 ARTICLES

WVTC and the 1998 STITCH, by Jack Youngren
Team Ménage à Douze, by Jack Burns

WVTC AND THE 1998 STITCH
by Jack Youngren

This year was supposed to settle it. West Valley's third entry into the Napa to Santa Cruz Relay was supposed to be akin to the third installment of the Star wars Trilogy. "The Revenge of the Dirty Dozen," if you will. The forces of Good, after a minor setback in the second installment, come back to kick some butt. Instead we have a moment that will live in infamy. An incident that will help escalate an uneasy rivalry into a yearly war.

These are, after all, the moments that remain frozen in time for all participants, the images we have seared into our brains whenever we give ourselves so fully to these competitive urges. For fans of the Oakland Raiders it was the Immaculate Reception perpetrated on them by the arch rival Pittsburgh Steelers. For Cal and Stanford, it was The Play, which turned The Big Game on its ear. And now, for every member of West Valley's Relay team that was there to stare in shock, there is The STITCH.

Next year, the 4th version of Ottaway's Dirty Dozen will be assembled by re-telling the tale of The STITCH. "What's that buddy? You don't want to waste your promising cross-country season on running three 10Ks within 12 hours? Tony, you were there. Tell this man about The STITCH." Nervous relay rookies, sitting tight lipped and tense in the rented vans heading toward the start of the '99 edition of Northern California's premier relay event will be fired up by a wild eyed Anthony Davies telling his version of The STITCH. And returning runner Paul Catherwood will revert to his college football days and spend hours at the chalkboard during pre-race meetings at Yancy's, using Xs and Os to diagram how The STITCH became The SWITCH, and drawing up possible defenses should 1999 witness the Son of A STITCH.

And the thing was, the team just wasn't going to get sucked into it this year. Everyone knew that this 196-mile relay for teams of 12 runners serves perfectly well as a personal challenge and an adventure in team spirit. The thrill of putting out your best on three separate races through the day and night, pushing your limits both for yourself and your teammates is the point of The Relay. In the hearts of the Dirty Dozen, they knew this, and they knew that there was no reason to get pulled into a hyper-competitive state with last year's champs, the East Bay Striders. Thus, the three goals for the team had been laid out simply by coach Tony Fong: first, try to take back the title of Relay Champs; second, try to finish under 19 hours; and third, but most important, HAVE FUN!

But there, in the parking lot of the Calistoga Mineral Water Company, it was starting as soon as the van emptied. The EBS team leader descended like a jackal. "So, who you got running? Is that Aaron in the van? Is Todd here? I haven't seen Fernando or Juan. Are they running for you?" It was decided then and there that the only way this would be tolerable was to leave East Bay behind early enough to avoid this crap at every checkpoint. The memory of becoming more and more fixated on "The GAP" last year, whether West Valley was ahead of or behind the Striders, was not pleasant. The sight of their van constantly staying back to check The GAP between their man and the West Valley runner as they pulled away in the last third of the race last year was coming back very clearly already.

The question was, did Ottaway's Dirty Dozen look like a team that could put away East Bay and save itself from this fate? The team had been finalized in the 11th hour. Coach Fong had enlisted two of his top high school runners to round out the team, Alex Mason, who had run for West Valley previously at the Capitol mile, and newcomer Brandon McClintock. Having run only 3 times in the previous 7 weeks, Jack Youngren was bringing little more than his previous Relay experience to the team. Other relay veterans John Heber and Anthony Davies were not in top form, but the rest of the team, returning runners and rookies alike, looked poised to do some serious damage.

But how can you understand the importance of The STITCH until you know about the preceding 180 miles, about the trials of 24 runners bringing a huge range of abilities but the same dedication to this race? You would have to have a sense of how 12 pairs of runners from two opposing teams hammered away at each other throughout the night, sometimes ahead, sometimes behind, but always (damn it!) aware of The GAP.

No, there is no way to understand the utter combustibility of the situation as the race for the championship and course record converged into an area of Santa Cruz Mountain roadway barely the length of a suburban front yard. As West Valley runner Colin Solomon closed on East Bay's Thom Trimble after almost 18 hours of running, as Trimble heard the footsteps of a presumed dead enemy like every bad slasher film ever made, the amount of pressure building on that stretch of blacktop was completely insane. It was as if every inch of Northern California landscape that had been covered by these runners as well as every bit of emotion poured out during the race was being compressed into this scene. No physics equations are necessary to understand the effects of balling up that much matter and energy into this tiny patch of asphalt.

To understand where the power of the situation came from, to understand how 180 miles of head to head racing gave actual matter and gravitational force to the runner's emotions, you would have to ride along with van 1 for at least some of the race. You would have to see Nate Knuth handle the pressure of the leadoff leg with intelligence and composure, and handle the pressure of having to chase down the East Bay runner in each of his last two runs. You would have to see high schooler Alex smoothly pass his Strider counterpart on both his first two legs, both on the rolling Silverado Trail, and in the middle of the night on the backroads of Nicasio. Alex then came up with his strongest run on his third lag as he smoothly turned out 5:30 miles.

Maybe for the full visual representation of what each individual was investing in this effort you would need to watch Tony on his third leg. Running behind for the first time in the race, Tony gave so much in his effort to catch the East Bay runner before the race turned up into the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains that he could only collapse at the exchange, and helped to his feet, could only wretch up whatever was left in his stomach. Or maybe watching the gradual change in Brandon as he went from focusing on destroying the team from his rival high school to understanding the need to finish ahead of the Striders would demonstrate how the fever was inescapable.

Perhaps nothing would help you understand the emotion of the West Valley comeback like being able to read Jack's mind as he struggled up the 10% average grade of Redwood Gulch Rd. Any observer could see the pain in the motion that could only generously be described as running. But what would it add to your understanding of the Relay to feel the despair choking him as he imagined what awaited him at the upcoming exchange? After giving up big minutes to Strider Bruce Goode in each of the first two runs, Jack started out well over 2 minutes behind Goode on this final, brutal leg. As he was cracking badly in the final mile, he could only imagine that he would be greeted with a look in his teammates faces that would reveal the painful truth, that after 155 miles of running the race was, in fact, over, The GAP was finally just too large.

With Aaron, who wears his fierce competitiveness on his sleeve and his face, witnessing the fury with which he caught East Bay's startled John Magasin, a 32 minute 10K runner, on his first leg would show anyone how much desire any runner might bring to this event. But the frustration Aaron showed when he failed to bring back Magasin across the Golden Gate Bridge after taking enormous offense to comments from East Bay runners watching him pass (hanging back to once again put a clock on The GAP) was something else. His anger showed just what was building as these runners took each other on in round after round of battle.

You could watch Paul Catherwood chomping at the bit on his first leg as he took the wristband from Aaron and blasted off on his leg, only to be brought to a dead stop a few feet later by a red light at a murderously busy intersection. Aaron's hard earned lead was quickly erased as Paul found himself toeing the line against East Bay's Steve Ruegg, waiting for the green light like it was a starter's pistol. Then cut to the scene at the summit of Highway 9, where an exhausted Paul (moved up a leg after Aaron was forced to withdraw from the race after his second leg) mulls over the hardest race of his life. His great effort against East Bay's Superman Magasin had still left West Valley seven minutes down as the race headed downhill to the ocean.

Watching van 1 however, only set the stage for the comeback. It was up to van 2 to bring the race back together through the mountains, to get all the players in position and to overload the situation with rebuilt tension. All these elements were necessary for a slight pain in a runner's side to start glowing white hot. The force of every bit of the ridiculously close event was necessary for that small ball of worsening pain to explode in terrible sound and fury.

To get there, to bring all these elements together, Sherman had to do his best impersonation of a visiting Kenyan in the first 10K of his life. He found the steep downhill on the backside of Highway 9 so compatible with his natural speed and quick turnover that he cranked down the 6.2 mile course in 29:23, cutting deeply into the East Bay lead. John Heber then had to be completely oblivious to the extreme danger of cutting every tangent of the serpentine highway as he pushed downhill to his absolute limit. Jake Neibaum had to run his most impressive leg of the race, blistering 5:30 miles along a rolling course with virtually no room to run against the whizzing traffic. So focused was Jake that a mild collision with a female runner he was passing barely registered. Her teammates took quite an interest in the incident, however, but we've got a story to tell here, and were just at the good part. You see, after moving up in the rotation, Jake was finally enjoying the liberty of not going head to head with East Bay's Trimble, and was putting a serious dent into The GAP as he chased down a runner he couldn't yet see. It would be the terrifying Colin who would finally bring East Bay back into sight as he reeled in Trimble at a relentless pace.

The right hand turn from Highway 9 to San Lorenzo Ave occurs 4.3 miles into the 6.2 mile course that is the 34th of 36 legs. It is at this spot that this leg turns ugly, as both runners knew from tackling it the previous year. It was at this spot that vans from both teams sat waiting to cheer their runners on. As Trimble approached the turn he did not look good. And just behind him was Colin, who made the turn about 30 seconds after his prey. There was fear in the eyes of East Bay, as they took after Trimble to find out what the problem was. And for the first time the West Valley runners allowed themselves to imagine the unimaginable. If Colin goes ahead, could it happen? Could Anthony then hold his own against Rob Flatland, a faster 10k runner? And what about the final leg into Santa Cruz? With leg 1 runner Nate back in Palo Alto, would high schooler Alex have to run his 4th leg of the day? No one wanted to even think it, let alone believe in the possibility if it was not to be. Misplaced hope would be too much, too cruel.

But as the road turned dramatically uphill, Colin dug in fiercely for the final two miles that would gain over 500 feet of elevation. Colin took off after him like Trimble was the dingo that had stolen his baby. And that is where it all came together. Three vans packed full of runners rabid with excitement. Colin, moving up and now 15 seconds behind Trimble, dragged hope reluctantly out of some dark corner of his teammate's souls until it exploded into a frenzy of yelling and jumping. Trimble, now grabbing his side after a surge to fight off Colin dissolved into a look of helplessness, was being surrounded by his teammates, whose panic was palpable. The emotional and physical pathos had reached insane proportions, and these forces culled from 180 miles of exhaustive effort were now compressed into a space that surely could not hold them, as Colin was now right on Thom's heels, a few seconds back.

Maybe the first thing to blow really was the pain in Thom's side. Maybe he really couldn't continue the leg. Maybe it had to happen this way.

To the West Valley runners, who had just allowed themselves to reach delirium, who had just realized that the 1.75 miles of tough climbing ahead would leave Colin minutes ahead of Trimble, who began to visualize a GAP that would hold up to a glorious finish in Santa Cruz, it all happened in slow motion. The East Bay Striders swarmed around Thom. The wristband was removed from his arm. Flatland, the next scheduled runner for East Bay, took off to try to shake the stunned Colin and rebuild the lost GAP.

The STITCH then became the spark that blew everything sky high. Runners piled into vans and raced for the next exchange. Tempers flared as accusations and rationalizations flew. The next exchange was barely noticed as East Bay's John Lehman took over for Flatland, who had been able to use his (relatively) fresh legs to put almost a minute on Colin. The rotations now back in synch between the two teams, Anthony took off after a familiar foe that had already disappeared into the dusty climb out of the rock quarry.

The arguments carried over to the final exchange point. Without knowing what the GAP would be when the two runners arrived, the Dirty Dozen could not decide how to answer the move by East Bay, which though technically legal, seemed to run against the spirit of the event. The ability of teams to replace a runner mid-leg due to injury or illness allows a team to continue in the event should misfortune befall one of their ranks. But to SWITCH to preserve a lead, to prevent a runner from being passed, seemed simply wrong. No one seemed robbed more than Colin, who only 30 minutes after finishing a devastatingly hard leg, his third in just over 12 hours, wanted the stick. The New Zealander wanted to run down any Strider who dared try to cheat him out of the win.

The DEAL was brokered to maintain peace, to try to calm down something that the nature of racing head to head for 18 hours had exploded out of control. The teams would finish together. Regardless of the GAP at the final exchange, the two runners would cover the final 4.7 miles together. Twenty four runners would cross the line in the sand together, symbolic of the true spirit of the event. The East Bay runner only had to wait about 20 seconds for Anthony to finish, as the wiry Brit was not cheated out of his chance to lay it all down in a heroic effort. The fierceness of the competition was observable in the confused anger of Lehman who couldn't understand why he had given the wristband to a teammate who merely stood there, staring at the approaching Anthony. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted, "RUN." It took quite a bit of work for his teammates to talk him down.

The DEAL helped salvage the most important goal for the Dirty Dozen. After all, the team was still co-champion, and crossing the line in 18:58:48 ensured that the time goal was reached, but without working out the differences with East Bay, how much fun would anyone have had at the finish. The DEAL allowed the two teams to drink beer and swap stories together at a post race bash. They could interact like runners who had gone through something together, rather than separately and in conflict. And as Coach Tony reflected at the awards ceremony, that after all is really the spirit of the event. Everyone goes through this together. The event is challenging for everyone involved, whether on a record setting team or the last team to reach the beach. That's what makes it so special.

So in the glow of accomplishment, the bad feelings could be put away, for now. But the STITCH will live on. Oh yes it will.


Editor's note, January, 2000: Unfortunately, after months of therapy, the members of Ottaway's Dirty Dozen, after setting course records in the 1996 and 1998 Relays, never recovered from The STITCH. The runners from the West Valley Track Club failed to show for The Relay in 1999 and were never heard from again.

TEAM MÉNAGE À DOUZE
by Jack Burns