Dudley and I flew into Portland on Saturday and headed up to Tenant's Harbor that afternoon to check-in for the race. The Blueberry Cove 13.1 is a fund-raiser for the Blueberry Cove 4-H Camp, and all of the race activities were based at the camp. The race organizers made things really easy for us in that for a small donation to the camp, you could stay overnight there and also have a home-cooked dinner. Being that I had no clue as to where to stay, I booked a cabin at the camp. That's right - me. Camping. Dudley was kind of surprised by that, as well. But hey - it's way less expensive than a B&B, you get fed (well) AND you wake up at the race start. That's kind of a no-brainer from my perspective.
Use an oar for a sign? Why not?
Sorry for the horrible photo, but it's the only one I have. This is from the dining hall at the camp.
Anyway, we get to camp and look for the race check-in table. Guess what? There wasn't one. The race is capped at 200 racers and the race organizers prefer to go over the details of the race the day of the race. Works for me. We then found Steve, who was the RD and who had also assigned the cabin assignments. Now, contrary to what Dudley might say, I was fully expecting to sleep in a very basic cabin. We were told ahead of time to bring a bed roll and pillow, which we did. So I wasn't at all surprised when Steve lead us to this:
Don't worry - we had sheets AND sleeping bags for the bunks.
I think Dudley thought I was going to play the Princess card and high-tail it to the nearest B&B. But I thought the cabin was great. Granted, electricity would have been nice (that part, I didn't know about), but the cabin itself was fine.
We asked Steve about dinner, and he said it'd be ready in a few minutes, and to listen for the conch shell. What? A Conch shell? Sure enough, about 10 minutes later, you heard the low bellow of a conch shell and dinner was served - Fish chowder, salad, bread, fresh corn and homemade blueberry pie (of course) for dinner. It was great. We met a lot of fun people, too. Many of them were interested in running in Tennessee, because they, like me, want to hit races in all 50 states.
Now some of you might be wondering why the heck I was planning on running a half-marathon when I've pulled out of my past two races due to my ankle. Well, it was something I signed up for a few months ago. And I had planned our lodging around the race - we HAD to go. Was I concerned about injuring my ankle again? Yes. Was I concerned because the longest I'd run since April was eight miles? Yes. Was it a reckless and potentially dangerous idea for me to run? Yes. But I'm very hard-headed and, truthfully, I wanted to cross Maine off of my 50 state list.
However, because I'm not totally stupid, I did have my doubts as to whether or not I should run. So before heading to bed that night, I said a little prayer and asked for a sign that I shouldn't run in the morning. After sleeping hard for a few hours (sleeping in a dark, quiet cabin was awesome), I was suddenly awoken by what sounded like gunshots. Turns out, some of the locals decided to shoot off fireworks at 2:00 AM. Scared to crap out of me at first and it took me a long time for me to fall back asleep. I woke back up at 6:00 and thought about my little prayer. Were the fireworks my sign that I shouldn't run? It's hard to run that far when you're tired. As I debated about this, I stretched my legs and moved to get out of bed...and my right calf cramped up so bad I couldn't move for about five minutes. I'm not kidding. It was so painful that once I was able to straighten out my leg again, and could get out of bed, I couldn't walk on it. It was almost as if God said "Yes, the fireworks were the sign for you to not race, but since you're too stupid to realize it, I'm going to make it so you physically can't walk for the next few hours."
So...I didn't race. I was bummed, but it was the smart thing to do. Dudley and I decided to hang out for the race and cheer on our new friends. Plus, there was supposed to be an amazing blueberry-themed brunch after the race. Can't miss that, right? We walked/limped down to the staging area, where I (again) thought I'd see a check-in table for the racers. Nope. Turns out, there wasn't any official check-in. No bibs either. This race is really different in that 1) they wanted all of the money raised to go to the camp, so no race shirts and no bibs. Everything from the medals to the brunch was donated from local vendors. And 2) they're really trying to be green. No bib - no extra paper.
You might ask, "but Kristine, if there were no bibs, how do you know who won?" You will not believe what they do. The racers actually shout their name as they cross the finish line. Seriously. Is that fantastic, or what? Remember - there are only 200 racers. This is a very manageable system for 200 racers.
Ten minutes before the race officially started, everyone headed down to the starting line, which was about a half-mile away. Once everyone got there, Steve made a few announcements, then the conch shell was blown again and the race was off!
No big, blow-up arch for this race.
No, that's not a random cord going across the street. It's the starting line!!
This was the first time I actually had to hang out and wait for a half-marathon to finish. Fortunately, we were in paradise, so Dudley and I went down to the water and walked around a bit. It was low tide, so we actually got to walk in Blueberry Cove, which was cool.
Unfortunately, I can't tell you a whole lot about the course. I was told it was pretty hilly and very scenic. I do know that they used lobster buoys for mile markers...
And that you had to run around this buoy at Marshall Point Lighthouse. Why is Marshall Point Lighthouse significant to runners? Because it's where Forrest Gump turned around when he was out for his run.
"I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going." Forrest Gump
After about an hour and a half, the runners started coming in. Many of the runners forgot to say their name as they crossed the line, but the organizers had people who would chase after them to find out who they were. Again, with only 200 people, this is very doable. They also had small children who were handing out the medals. Very cute.
The buoys strung across the road was the finish line.
Hand-made "medals" donated by a local artist.
The winners also received pottery, again, donated by a different local artist.
Very cool and unique.
Brunch had already started, so Dudley and I went in to enjoy some of that blueberry goodness.
Blueberry cobbler, blueberry muffins, blueberry pancakes...Heaven.
This was, by far, the most unique and quirky race I've ever seen. I loved it and highly recommend it if anyone is looking for a race in Maine. Everyone was really nice and laid back. There were some serious racers there, as well as a good number of walkers. The race organizer welcomed and encouraged them all. It was great to be at a race that wasn't overly-commercialized. Not something you see often at a half-marathon. I'm very bummed that I didn't actually get to race, even though I do think dropping out was the right thing to do. The only thing good about NOT being about to do the race is that it means that I still need to race in Maine - so I get to go back. YAY!
For info on the race, click here: Blueberry Cove 13.1 They also have a Facebook page. If you are interested in this race, sign up early. It caps at 200 and it will sell out. Click here to learn more about Blueberry Cove 4-H Camp.
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