Don't Do The Bartman: Playing a cog in the machinery that minted Team USA

Caution: This post steers into logistics and running nerdity. You've been warned.

My favorite action snap of the morning: Jeanne Cooper of Colorado splatters a mile 19 Powerade at my table. Cooper went on to finish in 2:49:16.

When I got the Thanksgiving-week email from the Houston Road Runners Association soliciting a little more fluids crew help with the Olympic Trials that would happen yesterday, I decided to inquire. Growing up, I learned that the Olympics were a Very Important Television Event that only happen every four years in far-off lands, and even the partially-jaded sports fan that I am now still thinks it's a special thing. So I felt that being even a small part of the process that will send our best athletes to the coming London games will give me a vested interest in seeing them succeed when I watch them from the comfort of my living room in about six months.

So how does an aid station for world-class athletes differ from the table, Igloo cooler and Dixie cups found at the turnaround of my typical neighborhood 5K? For starters, there are more tables -- lots more tables. The last thing you want to see is a slow rush-hour-like crowd stacking up around a small area. These tables get spaced far apart. With approximately 20 feet between tables, our fluids station would consist of 44 tables covering a five-block span of the turn at City Hall. (There were two additional aid stations elsewhere on the course, each with a similar number of tables.) The spacing would make it easy for athletes striding by at 12 miles per hour to pick up a drink.

The next difference is the personal attention: Most of the tables would have eight large dots spread out on them, Each dot was the spot where a specific athlete could expect a bottle pre-filled by the athletes themselves with whatever they thought they would like to drink at that specific point in the race. With the triple-loop course layout, the runners would meet us at the mile 3, mile 11, and mile 19 points. So, as an example, the two volunteers at our table number one were entrusted with the three bottles top-seeded Ryan Hall would fill and label "Bib 1, Mile 3," "Bib 1, Mile 11," and "Bib 1, Mile 19" as well as the similarly-labeled bottles from seven other athletes. (Table two would have bottles from second-seeded Ritzenheim plus seven others, and table three would have bottles from third-seeded Keflezighi plus seven others, This staggered arrangement would help prevent closely-seeded runners from reaching for the same table at the same time.) As the race progressed, the volunteers would be responsible for having the right bottle on the right spot on the table at the right time.

I suppose they decided that this task was too complicated for me, so I was assigned to one of the last couple of tables. My job was to make cups of Powerade available, just in case an athlete wanted something in addition to (or instead of) their pre-filled bottle. On the preceding Wednesday, I left an orientation meeting with a belly full of pepperoni pizza and these words from our team leader -- "Remember Steve Bartman."

In case your baseball trivia synapses in your brain didn't fire just then: On October 14, 2003, the Chicago Cubs hosted the Florida Marlins in a playoff game. With the Cubs leading 3-0 in the eighth inning, a Marlins player hit a foul ball just over the railing into the left-field stands. The Cubs' left-fielder attempted to reach over the railing to make a catch, but previously-unknown fan Steve Bartman deflected it and possibly prevented the Cubs from recording the second out of the inning. The Marlins would eventually score a bunch of runs in that inning, and angry Chicago fans would point at the Bartman "interference" as the turning point that cost the Cubs the game and eventually the league championship series.

"Remember Steve Bartman" meant that we had specific instructions to not become part of the action in any way. We were asked to stay off the course if there were athletes in the vicinity. Drinks would be set out on the table, but unlike my neighborhood races, athletes would be expected to pick them up on their own. USA Track and Field officials would be watching, and handing a bottle or cup to an athlete could be counted as outside assistance and a possible reason to be disqualified. And none of us were interested in becoming infamous in the running community for interfering with a competition that would be aired on NBC later in the afternoon. (Can you imagine the hate mail that Houston would get if one of our volunteers tripped Ryan Hall?)

In the end, my assignment went exactly as planned. My table partner and I served up a few Powerades, provided soft-spoken encouragement (no cowbell-level cheering!) and marveled at sports history passing us by. The frontrunners, as some of you may have seen on the TV broadcast, looked invincible. But even in the Olympic Trials, many of the back-of-packers looked like they were visibly struggling on their last pass by us (mile 19). One woman made a grasp at four different Powerade cups at my table and fumbled them all. And at the end, we waited around for nearly an extra thirty minutes for an update on one female straggler that was injured. Eventually we got word that she decided to drop out, and then we dismantled our refreshment stands.

Thanks for reading all this text. Your reward at the end is more of my pictures from my smartphone camera! (Click for larger versions.)

On Friday night, opening ceremonies happened in Discovery Green. The Trials hopefuls were introduced as a group, followed by speeches and presentations from Team USA officials and past Olympics greats. Trials competitors Meb Keflezighi and Deena Kastor were recognized for their medal accomplishments in the 2004 Athens games. "Elder statesmen" Frank Shorter and Joan Benoit Samuelson were recognized for their accomplishments by being named honorary captains of the men's and women's teams and were gifted with cowboy hats. It was like a pep rally for the Olympic Team.

The opening ceremonies concluded with a smile-inducing fireworks show.

My partner Rachel stands behind our ready Powerade table early on a chilly Saturday morning. This is the view the runners would see if they glanced in our direction heading north on Bagby Street. Eight cups are in the positioned in front for easy grabbing, and we had a bunch more in the back to replace them as necessary.

This was the table next to ours, with athlete-filled bottles ready to go. In general, the men didn't do much other than fill their bottle, slap the supplied labels on, and turn them in. Some athletes taped energy gels to their bottles. The women got more creative, attaching stickers, glitter paint, or in one case I saw, pink foam flamingoes. The "LSS" bottle on the corner belonged to 50-year-old Linda Somers Smith of California.  I remember this because when she drank and discarded it, it came right at me and landed at my feet.

The race itself didn't yield any real dramatic turns of events. The top seeds went to the front of the pack  and were the only contenders in the competition to secure the top three spots and be named to the Olympic Team. This is the men's lead pack passing us at mile 11, approximately 55 minutes into the race. In front is Ryan Hall, who eventually placed second. Dathan "Ritz" Ritzenheim would get the dreaded "not quite" fourth-place finish. I believe behind Ritz in this picture is third-place finisher Abdi Abdirahman. Way in the back with the blue cap is the eventual men's winner of these Trials, Meb Keflezighi.

The athletes arrived in waves that got further and further spaced out as the race progressed. This is the mass of women appearing after they made the turn from McKinney onto Bagby at mile 3, at around 16 or 17 minutes into their race. They are led by the NBC cameramen on a motorcycle.

And here is the front of that mile 3 women's pack. The Olympic squad would eventually become Shalane Flanagan (right, with blue top and her just-about-trademark high socks), Desiree Davila (red/yellow/black top) and Kara Goucher (left, blue top, obscuring her bib in this shot).