And so we set off at about 11am on race day, Aug 28, after having a Singapore Noodles Van 2 team breakfast at a nearby cafe. We had to get to the van handover point, which was adjacent to the carpark of megamart Fred Meyer (something like WalMart), by about noon.
By the time we arrived at the carpark, there were many many many vans already parked and waiting for their runners. The thing about the race is that there are about 2,000 teams, so teams are flagged off staggered to avoid congestion. The best teams flag off the latest, I believe something like 6pm on Aug 28, nearly half a day after us slower teams. They would go on to overtake us at about Leg 33, which goes to show how speedy they are!!
D, who was runner number 7, did some warm ups in the parking lot as the rest of us took happy snaps, visited the loo and soaked up the atmosphere. Truly, this was something special. Majority of the participants were in it for a jolly good time, a fun day or so of fellowship over scenic running routes. If anyone was taking the race super seriously, they certainly didn’t show it. I can safely say everyone — runners and volunteers alike — were extremely friendly and supportive towards each other. It was a refreshing change to do a race that didn’t hinge just on my ability and didn’t have the pressure of time or a big prize at the end.
“913, 913!” the volunteers yelled, alerted the waiting runners that team No. 913 was approaching. Out of the pack of number 7 runners stepped D, in his unmistakable Nike compression socks and bright orange top. We screamed, waves the Singapore flag with pride, as he got the baton (it really was a green luminous snap bracelet) from AL at 1.06pm and sped off. Our race had begun!
Till then I was feeling pretty relaxed, but knowing my turn to go was only two legs away, I started to get a tad anxious. Sure, the race didn’t hinge of my ability, but I certainly didn’t want to let the team down. Each of us, based on our submitted projected 10k times (mine was 45min), had target times to meet for each of our three legs. My goal was to run each leg like it was my last and get under the target times as much as possible.
We jumped into the van soon after D left, and drove to the next checkpoint, stopping ever so often to support him with water, Gatorade and cheers. It was pretty hot out, not unlike a typical Singapore day, though much less humid.
So D did an awesome job on his leg, then AK totally smashed his target time, and before I knew it I was on the road.
I felt great. Running a team event gives you so much more adrenaline than a solo effort, and I was flying. Within the first couple of kilometres, which was along the race, I had passed many runners. Soon we got to the Springwater Trail, a narrow path sandwiched by trees that is part gravel, part tarmac. I found a good rhythm and was overtaking more people, confident that I could meet my target time of 51+ min.
Soon I caught up with a middle-aged man, who sped up just as I was overtaking him. So I drafted him all the way till the last mile, when I picked up the pace and said to him “Let’s go!”. He didn’t go with me though. Anyhow, I got to the checkpoint in 49min+. “913, 913!” screamed the volunteers as I approached, but my teammates were nowhere in sight.
Minutes went by as my panting reduced to easy breathing. Still no sign of the Singapore Noodles. I searched the carpark frantically. Other runners approached me to ask if I was okay, some offered me their handphones to call my teammates. I only remembered AK’s number though, but he didn’t answer his phone. Ten minutes, 20min, 30min later… still no sign. From sadness, to anger, I was now worried. I prayed that nothing happened to them. Some 45min later they finally drove into the carpark, as I yelled to R to hustle to the handover point. I slapped the baton on his wrist and he was off.
Later I found out that they had driven to the wrong checkpoint, got out of the van, waiting for me with Singapore flag and all, and thought I got lost on the trail. A volunteer told them they were at the right checkpoint, the volunteer obviously getting it all wrong. I can’t remember how they finally figured they were at the wrong checkpoint, but at least they did realise. I had wanted to continue on and run the next leg, but the officials said it was against the rules. Oh well.
The great thing about the race is fun comes first. So I wasn’t peeved at all that my teammates had gotten lost. In my heart I was just thankful they were safe. That was just about the only major drama our van had for the rest of the trip, though there were some little incidents I will explain later.
Anyhow, R ran a good leg, followed by HS and then M, who handed off to Van 1. Before we knew it, we were done with the first 12 Legs and had about five hours break before we got the baton back from Van 1. Fortunately, Leg 12 ended in downtown Portland, really close to our hotel, so we headed back for a warm shower, hot food and a couple of hours of sleep.
To be continued…