Surviving running camp in Asheville, NC!

Commonly asked questions about running camp

Why running camp?

Well, I could give you the textbook answer and tell you that it “strengthens the mind, body and soul of the runner while giving you strategies, techniques and plans on how to become better at your sport.” Or I could quote from Stan Robison and tell you, “You just can’t make shit like this up!”

How did you get into running?

I entered a 5K one time while in Atlanta. It was the third mile and my Tourette’s syndrome was kicking in. So there I was yelling shit, f&&k, damn, hell, shit, f&&k, damn, hell and this guy next me apparently was a fundamentalist Christian. He’s yelling “Praise the Lord”, “Glory be to God!” and “Praise Jesus.” So I’m thinking this running thing is pretty cool. I’ve only met one other person and we’ve already got heaven and hell completely covered.

What kind of people do you meet at running camp?

Well there’s Stan, who’s not afraid of anything (except clowns). He says that snakes won’t bite him out of professional courtesy and that Ohio State football fans are like Iranians. There’s E.J. – the only thing wrong with him is that he’s a Mets fan. And Lana, who has four personalities and at least one of them always has a question during seminars. I mean f&&king always! Brian is our leader – he’s the one who ran Buzzard Bait and said, “I feel like a million bucks. Problem is, it takes three million to get to the top.” There’s the graceful Joy and the clumsy Dunn, the triple-jointed Paulie, the shopping Heidi and the smiling Kelly. And my God, there’s the ageless Jerry Crockett who can clog like no other, crank out 50 push-ups just for fun and still run like the wind at age 80. Eighty mind you!

What are the trails like?

Picture this if you can: You start out of the Lower Arboretum and hang a right onto the wood chip trail. You pass a train trestle on your left, you curve right and run over a bridge; curve again under a bridge, turn left onto the main trail – filled with gravel and hard soil. Eventually, you fork left then turn left again onto Owl’s Ridge where the hill is so uneven it makes you tired just thinking about it. The trail is flanked by trees and more trees. The only sound you hear is coming from your own lungs.

What do you people talk about during running camp?

You want the X-rated version or the PR version?

I mean, what goes on after hours?

Well, there’s Truth or Dare and Spin the Wheel of Passion. There are balcony parties and random events waiting to happen. There are people who end up in the wrong beds; Mexican mudslides, and a dining hall that serves soft ice cream. There are impromptu staff meetings in Stan and Curly’s room, five-star, drool-induced naps between break-out sessions and true stories about two girls from Tallahassee who did crotch push-ups and dirty dancing so lewd that even the video “disappeared” and hasn’t been seen since. Unsolved Mystery’s was considering doing a special on it. You want more? There’s track running, pacing contests, trips into Asheville, freezing in the classroom, falling asleep in the TV room while reading, cell phone calls home and envy because you’re missing a full week of Callie Duquesne and CSI: Miami episodes. Why, this year alone – while we were there – Tim Russert died, Tiger sank an 18-foot prayer that sent the Open into a playoff and the Celtics knocked off the Lakers in Game 6 to bring home the title. Hard to believe the world doesn’t stop while we’re there but it doesn’t. All the while my poor Braves were going 4-6 on a road trip.

Would they put me in a group? I mean, what if I’m not in shape?

They have Group 1 – the group that has propellers lodged into their sphincter - all the way down to the walking wounded. As long as you’re somewhere between the two, you’re fine.

Is there social life?

Social life hell! Nike Bob came here, met his wife, got her pregnant and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. And they even put a girl in my room! Of course, who would know? With a name like Dayle, that could be a guy. (You talk about a liberal camp!) And then Paulie and Joy were going to show us a rendition of the Cuban Pretzel but Paulie was too wired and Joy too sane. Orgies don’t even have people bending like that – not that I would know. And Asheville – the Berkley of the South – where they do drum dances, square dances and street strolling and the locals, tourists and hippies all converge. Heaven won’t take ‘em and hell is afraid they’ll take over. It’s adrenaline times 12 and you’ll love every minute of it.

How do you wrap up the week?

Well, you’d like to go out and get yourself hammered. Problem is you’ve got to run all the way up a damn mountain – way past heaven – until you get to a line drawn in the sand by whoever has the nuts to get up the hill first. Add about a light year to your 5K time and that’s about what you should expect. It’s called Buzzard Bait and it’s not for the faint hearted. Why, this year alone, Kelly Clabby got up there and barfed out her bagel. Such a healthy eater, too! We all made it though (most of us got hammered later).

How do you prepare for something like that?

Kiss your mate and miss your dog. Pack light. Laugh and joke often. Stretch between runs and drink shit-loads of water. Pray sometimes. Bring warm clothes for later. Smile when they take your picture. Eat your breakfast, write letters home to mom. Keep a diary. There are no set rules, just start your watch and head north. There’s only one hill. Keep going until you’re about to barf up a lung, then keep going. Don’t count the switch-backs. It’s never been done. There’s somewhere between 10 and two million of them. When you see the white van, praise Jesus and all his descendants. Then you’re welcome to puke, laugh, sing or dance. You’ve earned it.

How would you sum it up?

It’s not only crazier than you think; it’s crazier than you can think. I mean, a camp for adults? A running camp?

What has running meant to you?

Well, I’ve found God but lost my wife. I’ve met Stan and Curly and have seen all of Paulie’s dancing photos. I’ve watched Heidi damn near buy up Jus Running, have run Buzzard Bait some nine times and have met people from all across the globe – most of them sane. I’ve partied with Jerry, fallen asleep during seminars, lost the pacing contest a record nine straight times and have fallen in love at least twice per week. I’ve read Coach Benson’s book (though I had to borrow Jeff Galloway’s walk-run thing to get up that damn hill), have gotten lost even during a straight 5K and have had Tourette’s syndrome during the last six miles of every marathon I’ve entered. Have had breakfast with a Doublemint Twin, been to Boston, gotten lost at Warren Wilson trail and busted my ass at Owl’s Ridge. Have seen Jerry dance to the Firecracker Band, been to….

Enough, enough, what about next year?

Can’t wait, baby. Can’t wait!

See you then,

Dunn Neugebauer
Atlanta, GA
June 23, 2008

ALTA team survives!

MARIETTA - ALTA Saturday: morning alarm clock, frantic search for directions to away match, rummaging through closet to get proper accessories. Do I have my towel? Is it clean? Rackets, check. Balls, oops. Forgot to buy some. Socks. Dirty but wearable. Hat. Check. Grip tape. Check.
My A-2 team is on the road today - off to Post Woods - wherever that is. We're in third or fourth or fifth place - can't remember which, so today is the day we're allegedly supposed to make up some ground. On somebody. Playing out of somewhere.
There is a God. I find the place, with time to spare.
Let me back up a brief moment to give you a word about me and tennis.
See, it used to matter. Winning was SO important. Had to get a ranking, had to get seeded, had to help the team win the collegiate match, had to try and win the entry fee back. There was always a "had to" associated with it; it was never loose, carefree, innocent.
Now, it's an ALTA match for crying out loud. If I lose, nobody cares but me. And my pretty little Puerto Rican doubles partner. And maybe our fearless captain, who, by the way, is sitting courtside, cell phone in hand as if calling in the scores.
So here I am, all in my whites and on time and without my can of balls. Hopefully, the tennis Gods won't punish me for this infraction. Or maybe we can win and we won't need a new can.
Maybe.
Brad and Hadley win at No. 1. Steve and Katie lose at No. 2. Diane and Woody rally for a 6-4 in the third win. But Chris and Margaret lose at No. 4.
Putting the "pressure" on myself and Mariel.
With my blood-alcohol level dropping from my night before, I see the ball clearly and my partner takes care of the rest. We win 6-1, 6-2. The team wins 3-2.
Happy, happy, joy, joy.
We're off to Jocks n' Jills for a post-match celebration.
This week's agenda: practice on Thursday, Peachtree Road Race on Friday, another ALTA match on Saturday if I can peel my face off the sheets.
Stay tuned...