Blast from the past: classic Bob story

I was reminded of the following story when I ran the running leg of a triathlon relay several weeks ago (same swimmer got me to run this on as well). So I'm turning back the clock to tell the story (how I saw it go down) about a running-drinking-running feat that motivates me when I do things like beer miles or long runs on Sunday after a college football Saturday. Well this particuliar event happened in April 2001, and included running a marathon, partying all night, sleeping (I think), and then running again in the Trideltathon relay the next day.

So there I was ... back in the spring of my senior year at the University of Tennessee (Go Vols). Several days before I ran the Country Music Marathon in Nash-Vegas, a couple of my fraternity brothers came up to me and wanted me to be the runner of the fraternity Trideltathon triathlon team ... for we were the defending champs from the year before (in which I ran as well). At first, I told them to find someone else because I was running in a marathon the day prior and would be drinking heavily in celebration into the weee hours of the next morning. Well that didn't phase them, and they said they would rather have a drunk, injured Bob over anyone else. Well I finally particially gave in and said, "Well if you can wake me up and get me to move, I'll do it," not realizing what I was getting myself into. So I ran my marathon in 3 hours flat, a respectable time to say the least and then preceded to drink that night until about 4 a.m., completely forgetting that I'd told these guys that I'd run in the race. So I'd say appoximately two hours rolled by and like clockwork these guys came to wake me up. I think they tried for 15 minutes before I finally put two and two together on what they were blabbering about. So they said that they had to run ahead to pick up our packet and told me to meet them up there. So I staggered up the street, needing to make it about 600 meters to make it to the starting line. Needless to say I was still hammered, tired, and hungover. I also looked like crap; wearing basketball shorts and no shirt. This was in addition to being 'sore as all hell' from running a marathon the day prior and dancing all night. Well as I was stumbling past the UT track, I veered off to make a pit stop behind the official's box and puke and rally. Now I probably should have turned around and headed back at that moment, but I kept moving forward like a zombie from "28 Days Later." So I get to the starting line and wait for them to tag me to go. It took me a few steps to remember how to run again, but I actually ran pretty fast, running the third fastest three mile of the day in a decent 18:00. After I finished I proceeded back down to my bed to finish my sleep and to forget about the nightmare that had just occured.