By Jason Norton
“Nut jobs! What are these idiots doing?”
It was the early Friday morning of Oct. 18, and as a few dozen runners clad with headlamps, reflective vests and blinking lights greeted the morning sunrise running down Buffalo Road, my co-teacher’s wife was not impressed. The road being two lanes with minimal shoulder room marked the first stretch of what was to be a long and eventful journey for the 60 teams that dared to take on the challenge of this race.
Five months earlier, as I mindlessly wandered the enticing world of Facebook, an advertisement colored in teal caught my eye. It read “200 Mile Running Relay Adventure, Raleigh to Atlantic Beach.” Having recently battled stage 3C melanoma, I had vowed to face new challenges head-on without hesitation. Coupled with the fact that I had discovered a passion for running, I immediately shared this post with three simple words of my own: “Who’s with me?”
It wasn’t a problem getting our first few runners. With my brother Tyler and good friends JT and Matt, we quickly became a committed team of four. However, we had no interest whatsoever in running 50 miles each and labeling ourselves an “ultra” team. After exhausting all of our connections and pulling out all types of persuasion tactics, we finally landed a team of 10. We named ourselves the Scrambled Legs and if you added the 10 of us together, there was exactly no ultra relay experience.
The race director had carefully created a route that would carve its way through low rolling hills, slowly descend to the more leveled roads of the coastal plain and eventually finish on the beaches of Atlantic City. Thirty-six legs, each ranging from 2.6 to 9.3 miles, meant each member of the Scrambled Legs would run right around 20 miles. Easy peasy! However, the countless hours planning for the dozens of details of an unfamiliar race only amplified the giddy anticipation for race day to arrive. And with our team’s projected pace and start time, our heads were so naively big, we could have floated to the start line at world-record pace.
The long-anticipated morning came, and with the exception of a 20-minute wrong-way detour on leg 6, our team surged out of the starting gates blazing, with each runner surpassing his expected pace. We were living on cloud nine, not only because we enjoyed running, but also because being etched in our memories were the people and conversations we were experiencing along the way.
The amount of support that was outwardly shown by every team was something that I had never experienced in any other race. Sure, the streets weren’t lined with family members and spectators holding up signs that joked about chafing and how awesome you were. But every runner made it a point to keep pushing and encouraging other teams along the way. It became a community of runners as well as a competition.
As we slopped through the downpours of the night like carefree children, some caught a few minutes of sleep crammed in our deceptively spacious passenger vans. But most, including myself, couldn’t buy a second of sleep no matter how hard we tried. Flashing lights and groups of runners eased any eerie feelings of isolation and before we knew it we were greeted by the Saturday sunrise and Midway Baptist Church! Sleep-deprived teams walked into that church at leg 30 to warm hospitality and a marvelous pancake breakfast of champions. We walked out with a boost that powered us through the last six legs.
Three and a half hours later, the Scrambled Legs crossed the beach’s finish line together. It took us 28 hours and 30 minutes, which was good enough for 15th place. The feelings of exhilaration and triumph trumped those of exhaustion and relief. We survived 203.75 miles! Now we were going to stuff our faces with great food and beer … and stuff them we did!
The race was easily one of the most enjoyable any of us had ever run. You can bet your bottom nickel, Scrambled Legs Part II will be back in 2014.
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Jason Norton is a fifth-grade teacher in Wake County and a cancer survivor. He is a devout runner who has enjoyed the challenge of training and completing seven half-marathons since his cancer treatments ended in March 2011. He resides in Fuquay Varina, N.C., with his wife, Mary, daughter, Reese, and son, Carter. He can be reached at jnorton@wcpss.net.
