The First & the Last Race for "The Undecideds"

I'm the one with the wimpy mustache.

Let me offer the following advice.

Savor those moments that may not seem all that special at the time because you may never experience them again.

What do I mean by that? Back in May 1983, I got together with four other guys - two of whom were very close friends - to participate in the Roseburg To Coos Bay Relay. Although we would never have imagined it at the time, that race was the only time the three of us were together on a team. But that one race was indeed memorable.

Meet “The Undecideds”

We called ourselves "The Undecideds" simply because we were so late putting our team together that we didn't have time to figure out a cool name. If you look at that faded picture, I'm the guy with glasses and facial hair. The tall dark-haired guy to my left is Jim Ray and to my left is Mark Summers. Poor Mike Powell was a casual runner Mark conned into doing this grueling race. Not pictured was Paul Villagran, a high school junior who went on that next spring to lead his high school to the state championship in Track. I’d just returned home from a tough year in college, unsure about my major and future. Unlike Mark and Jim, I had no job or girlfriend. At least I was in shape for what awaited us.

What Is the Roseburg to Coos Bay Relay?

Not sure what I was supposed to do with this patch. But for whatever reason, I've hung onto it for all these years.

It's a five person 67-mile relay race that starts on east side of the Coast Range mountains and ends on the Oregon Coast. Much of the course follows an old military road which itself is a combination of what used to be Native American trails and wagon roads. Collectively, they form a wicked mixture of steep hills, sharp drops and narrow corners. Each runner participated in five 2.7-mile legs guaranteed to provide both gorgeous scenery and demanding physical challenges.

An Easy Start

"Be sure to pace yourselves" I needlessly advised my teammates as those first few legs took us on a narrow, but paved road through beautiful pastureland, close to the Umpqua River. Being a college runner, I took it upon myself to offer what I'd hoped were pearls of wisdom. Besides, my very bad advice would come later.

Rolling hills quickly became the norm. A short climb typically rewarded us with a nice decline afterwards. But those downhills became shorter and shorter with the climbs growing longer and steeper. A glance to the west where we had to crank our necks to see the sky told us that the fun was just starting.

My Very Bad Advice

My clearest memory of this race took place at the bottom of an early mountain with another awaiting us. We were parked off a gravel logging road in an aged pick-up waiting on one of our teammates. Bright shafts of sunlight filtered through the canopy of Douglas Fir trees surrounding us. Mark had cranked up Bryan Adam’s “Straight From The Heart” on the cassette player as we talked with a couple other teams.

It was here that my teammates asked how should we approach the remainder of this race? With an air of foolhardy confidence, I told them that since we were going to be tired by the fifth leg no matter what we did, it made sense to push it on this third leg. That may have been okay advice on a flat course with experienced runners in good shape. But not for casual runners facing climbs of several hundred feet. And definitely not when they would have to endure two more legs afterwards.

The Undecided's plaque, unearthed from a box of past mementos.

What Were We Thinking?

I was actually the first one to put my ill-advised words into action. My next leg started at the base of that mountain amid stunning forest scenery that appeared far more inspiring from the window of a moving vehicle then when you're running up a steep and endless gravel road where each corner seemed to place me no closer to the blue sky at the summit of the mountain.

I know eventually got there. I also know that I found some relief going downhill afterwards. But that’s not what I remember and definitely not what my aching muscles barked to me for the rest of that leg as well as other two I had left.

Somehow, we made it through those accursed mountains with rolling hills again becoming the norm. Although a welcome break, that also meant leaving behind the forests whose trees provided shade that kept the temperatures down. Now we faced a bold afternoon sun in a cloudless sky that quickly warmed up temps on that black asphalt into the low eighties.

Feeling exhausted, I attempted to make the best of my final leg. As encouragement, Mark slowed the pickup enough in front of me that Jim could hold out a can of cold beer as motivation - letting me know what awaited me at the end of this madness. I planted a big smile as false bravado, secretly hoping that the exhaust fumes from that old pickup would put me out of my misery.

Remember when we used to have local newspapers?

Nothing Lasts Forever

I did open that beer when I was done and consumed a few more at a local pizza parlor where we met up with the other teams afterwards. We learned that our time of seven hours and 19 minutes had placed us 7th overall and 2nd in the Men’s Open division.

I opted for the bed of the pickup for the return trip, savoring the cool air and stunning night sky. The day had been a nice respite from everything going on in my life. What I didn't know was that this day would serve as the commencement of what would be a truly amazing, but final summer for Jim, Mark and I to be together.

One year later, Jim was married. Mark served in the military. And I had graduated college. There'd been every assumption we'd do this race again. But for a thousand different reasons, it never happened, serving as a reminder to make the most of every experience. As well as a clear reason to appreciate being part of The Body Project's relay team in last month's Market To Market Relay.

I know that after reading this, none of you are foolish enough to seek any racing guidance from me. I would like to know your thoughts on this or any experiences you'd like to share.

And thanks again to Jim and Mark for all those remarkable memories!

This year's Body Project team for the Market to Market Relay.