Because We Can

In the spring of 2000, a motley crew of coworkers and friends reluctantly agreed to run our inaugural Reach the Beach Relay. From the beginning, team Run, Rest, Repeat doubted our own sanity—most of us had never strung more than 6.2 miles together at a time—but we had a persistent captain who managed to convince us that somehow, running 210 uphill miles in a hurricane would be fun. Of course, he left out the “uphill” and “hurricane” parts, but that’s a story for our therapists.

Nine years later, the same core crew—with a few yearly alternates—comprises a team that has shared more sweaty van space, Purell hand sanitizer, chafe-prevention tips, and peanut butter sandwiches than we care to recall. We return for a single unifying reason: We’ve learned, throughout these nine Septembers, that running 210 uphill miles in a hurricane actually is fun. And the only people who really understand this are the other runners who participate in the race.

The reasons we run are as individual as our members—which over our history number 33. Some run to push their physical or mental limits. Some run as part of a long-distance training regime. Others use the race as a metaphor for a personal challenge. And, still others just love the pancakes (thanks, Candia Fire Department!).

Regardless of our personal reasons, we return year after year for the unique bond we’ve formed. For 30 hours, we forget the outside world and immerse ourselves in a cocoon of camaraderie—inventing inside jokes and memorable quotes, literally laughing our asses off over the antics of our teammates. We’ll never forget the Ass of Ossippee; our very own profane Pippy Longstocking; Yoga for Accountants; or the time Van 2 faked an Achilles injury and convinced our captain—who had already reached the beach and changed into comfortable clothes—that he had to run a 4th leg (his reaction immortalized on video).

These are the ingredients of our selective memory—the experiences that wrap the grueling, cold, and often soggy miles in a blanket of friendship that reminds us that the race, in fact, is secondary.

This summer, Becky Davie—an integral member of our team—lost her 15-month battle with cancer. Though she never ran with us, Becky ardently supported her husband, Jeff Hazen, and her sister Sarah through nine RTB events. Becky often met our team at Hampton Beach State Park, bringing her and Jeff’s three beautiful daughters along as our personal cheering section.

As athletes, it’s difficult to reconcile our generally healthy lifestyle with such a vengeful disease. But the unfortunate reality is that it can strike any one of us at any time (Becky was an avid swimmer, cyclist, hiker, kayaker, and runner—among other things). This year, Becky inspired our team—including her grieving husband Jeff—to run through personal adversity to our full potential. Because we can.

RIP, Becky.

(Note: Our team captain adapted these words for a special website he created to remember Becky this year—which also describes our "tagging" of other team vehicles during the race).