Relay For Life - A Personal Experience


Jennifer Rydell, Brian Nelson, Mark Collis & Tom Carolan Team BRC
 at the finish line of the "Relay For Life", June 23, 2001 @ 6:30 AM

About four weeks ago I read that the Hamilton Cancer Society was going to hold their first Relay For Life on Friday, June 22, 2001 at the Dofasco Recreation and Learning Centre. I work for Dofasco and it's a beautiful park that was built for the employees with education and training facilities, two ice pads, two full multi-use basketball courts, seven baseball diamonds, soccer field, track, driving range and tennis courts. The relay is a fundraiser where teams of participants travel around a set path from 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. I thought about it and decided that while I support the work that the cancer society does, there would be too many walkers and that I didn't think that I'd find any other lunatics willing to run the distance as well.

Three weeks ago, a fellow BRC member and Dofasco employee, Brian Nelson phones me up at work. I know it's not for a casual conversation, it's not about work (we work in different departments), and that it's probably something to do with a race of some kind. Brian and I have shared a room in the past for club trips and I thought it might be about the fall marathon. I wasn't too surprised when Brian asks me to be on his team for the Relay for Life thing. I did surprise myself by immediately saying, "Yes!" So, now I ask, "How many do you want on the team?" I figure 12 hours, six members, two hours each. Nope, not our Brian. He wants a challenge. Four members, three hours in one hour shifts. I'm still game, but I know that it's going to hurt. I also know that we'll be helping to raise a few bucks for a good charity, so how can I let the team down? Besides, my father-in-law passed away almost 15 years ago from the disease. It would give me a chance to honour his memory by running in his name.

"So," I ask Brian, "who do you have on our team so far?"

"You and me," he says cheerily. I can just hear the ear to ear grin on his face. By the end of the day, I get an update. He's got his four members, two other club members sign up, Tom and Patricia. Brian divvies up the duties and gear required for an overnighter.

As the emails swirl back and forth, Brian floats a goal distance of 80 miles for the team. Yipes... The first shift should be OK, the second a little tougher, but that last one is going to be a killer. I don't think we can pull it off, knowing the abilities of the team. Seventy for sure, but eighty?

The week before the race Pat has to bow out. The sore leg she's been nursing for weeks turns out to be a 'green stick break'. That's a stress fracture that isn't quite a fracture, but will be if you aren't careful. The doctors (yes, three to be exact, GP, orthopedic surgeon and chiropractor) have read Pat the riot act and the only way they will let her out of the office without a cast is if she lays off the impact sports for six weeks. Pat really wanted this one, a personal grudge against the disease. One of her best friends lost the battle and left behind a hubbie and young kids. She's just a little upset at letting us down but I think she's more upset for the chance to run her guts out for the cause. Oh, did I mention that she also works at the local cancer clinic as a scheduler? This one was real personal.

Well, I get on the old PC at home and fire up a request for a volunteer to fill Pat's shoes and send it out on the BRC list. Not a lot of answers back, a few "No"'s, a couple of "I'd like to help but...", a single "Are you guys really crazy?" and two "Yes"'s.

The first "Yes" in is from a new club member that I've only met once and neither of the other guys had at all. Jennifer said that she'd love to do it and that she warned us that she wasn't fast. "Fast?" I replied, "Heck, this is a three hour relay. If you just finish, you'll be doing great. Speed isn't an issue." Our fourth member still want's in, even when we told her all the details.

When I get to the Rec Park, things are starting to shape up. Flags staked into the ground where the course goes, golf carts whizzing around here and there, tents for registration, volunteers, food and other services. There's a big tent city for the participants growing on the soccer field that sits in the middle of the asphalt track. Lot's of people as well. The first band of the evening was setting up on the stage. Live music to keep us entertained ran through to 5:00 A.M.

I get signed in as a member of Team Burlington Runners and hand over my collection envelope. It's not as much as I'd like but it's all I felt comfortable collecting. An elderly lady at the desk asks me how far we are going to walk tonight. I quickly, but gently correct her, "We're the Burlington Runners, we won't be walking." Secretly, I hope that I can live up to my boast.

I see Brian in the parking lot and we drag our camp gear from both our vehicles and the big race clock out of my truck and lug it all to the places they are supposed to be. I setup the clock at the start/finish line and set it for time of day rather than the usual count up and then help setup the tents. Brian asks me where the BRC banner is... OOPS! I was supposed to bring it?

By this time Tom arrives and we try and figure out how to put up the mansion of a sleeping tent that Brian just bought. The thing is huge, I can stand up in it. WOW. By the time we get the dinning/lounge tent up our final member, Jennifer, arrives and we do the introduction thing.

The gear is pulled out, Thermarests inflated, sleeping bags laid out, Gatorade mixed and then spilled. Finally, after everything else is done, Brian hands out the race numbers, T-shirts and goodie bags from the event organizers and the ugliest, brightest baseball hats you have ever seen. As Brian hands us our hats, he warns us to never let him loose in a dollar store.

Wearing my neon yellow hat, I ask what is the order that we will run. By no process discernible, the order is worked out, Jennifer, myself, Tom and then Team Captain Brian. Last out of the box is the official relay baton. Now, it's serious.

The hour-long pre-relay event is mostly speeches by officials and politicians taking their bows and the credit for the event (some earned, some not). The important part of the pre-event festivities however is the Victory lap by all the Cancer Survivors that are there. Men, women, children, young, old, those that look healthy, those that are obviously not, all line up as their names are called. In a few cases it seemed like the whole family was called. Most walk, a few are driven around in golf carts, all having stared the reaper in the face. We, the healthy participants, stand on the grass and clap as they pass by, very few of us with a dry eye. This is the memory I will take with me of this night.

All the participants are then instructed to move to the Start/Finish banners and on the hour of 8:00 p.m. we all do the first .55 mile lap as a team. During our lap, it's also obvious that we are the only fools that are going to try to run the entire night. I'm so wired by now that I do two laps with Jennifer before I head in to setup the water and get ready for my hour on the track. Brian and Tom are laughing at my usual high-energy antics. I can't sit still and I'm fidgeting like I've been drinking espresso for the last four hours. Pre race jitters.

I'm at the banner right at 9:00 p.m. and take the hand off from Jennifer. She ran her laps smoothly and evenly but looks glad to be done. Her first hour is over, mine just beginning.

I run my laps at a steady 3:50 pace, not too fast, but fast enough that I can stretch out the legs a bit. Initially there were problems trying to negotiate around groups of walkers and people who just stop and chat, but after a few laps, the walkers got used to the idea that we are flying around on the inside lane. A shout of "Track!" or "Passing on your left" is enough to warn them that we are behind and coming up fast. A couple of near misses, but no collisions or serious frights, just steady and smooth running.

About half way through my first hour, it's dark enough that the candles lining the track are lit and the field lights turned out. The glare of the spotlights are replaced by the gentle glow of hundreds, maybe thousands of flames flickering in memory of a dear one who is no longer with us, lost to cancer. On the hill at the end of the second corner of the track the word "Hope" is written in letters fifteen feet high with candles.

On the last lap of my first leg of the relay, I see Tom heading for the hand off point. I pick up the pace and hammer the lap in 3:30. All I can think of as I pass by the candles lining the route is, "In your memory Gordon Brooks, in your memory."

All together Team Burlington Runners managed to clock 150 laps for a grand total of 82.5 miles in eleven hours, all of it running. Brian says he would like to set the bar higher next year, and I'll try to be there with him to try.

By Mark G. Collis

Revised: December 24, 2003.