Harbor holds on to his lunch at the Challenge

On Saturday, 23 January 2010 the Krispy Kreme Challenge came to Tallahassee, brought here by the Student United Way of Florida State University. The event originated in Raleigh, North Carolina at North Carolina State University, where, a few years ago, a student must have wondered aloud if he could run two miles to the nearest Krispy Kreme store, eat a dozen glazed doughnuts, and then run back, all in under an hour. Science demands that such a proposition be tested, and twelve runners attempted the Challenge in 2004. By 2009 over 5,000 were taking the Challenge in Raleigh. The Challenge acquired a web site, merchandising, and a story in Sports Illustrated. Of course it was going to be imitated elsewhere, such as in Tallahassee.


The start was at the intersection of Copeland Street and College Avenue, in front of the Westcott Building. Standing near the first turn, I noticed that the turn was faintly marked with pastel chalk--on the sidewalk. Several hundred runners were lining up on Copeland, and I doubted that anyone of them were going to be running on the sidewalk. A policeman showed up right before the start of the race to direct traffic through that intersection, so there was no way that the runners were going to miss that first turn onto Jefferson Street. Still, you had to wonder about the rest of the course. The start went off well, though, if a few minutes late. The runners tore down the hill to Jefferson Street, led by a few strong runners and a bunch of optimists.

I next saw the runners on the second mile as they approached the doughnut stop at Langford Green. Maclay School coach Gary Droze and FSU cross-country runner Justin Harbor were running easily in the front, chatting as if there weren't a dozen fried pastries looming ahead of them. After watching a few more runners heading south on Varsity Drive, I moved away from Langford Green. After having three years in a row accidentally eaten lunch at sports bars the day of the World Hot-Dog Eating Championship, I didn't want to be anywhere near the doughnut-loading area. Especially when Coach Droze had threatened to bring a blender and drink his dozen glazed as a "doughnut smoothie."

Early in the third mile, the leaders had changed after the doughnut-loading area. This was because some of the runners were in a "Slackers" division and were only required to eat on doughnut. A policeman came by on the lead motorcycle. "Make sure they make this turn!" he shouted, then went off course himself to find a place his bike wouldn't have to hop a curb. All well and good, but I was just a guy with a camera; the course workers were fifty feet away doing not much of anything. The lead Slacker arrived and, contrary to the pretty pastel arrow on the ground, continued in the direction of the motorcycle. "Go that way!" I screamed. The runner grunted and turned left. The course workers blinked, and one of them moseyed over to the turn to direct runners. I left to return to Westcott for the finish. As I crossed Varsity Drive, I noticed that runners were approaching Langford Green both from the north and from the south. So much for a well-marked, easy-to-follow course. Always study the course map, friends!

I camped on Copeland Street to watch the runners make the long climb from Call Street to the peak of Westcott Hill and the finish. The first Slacker crossed the line in 22:10. Stephanie Liles was the first woman among the Slackers, but we were waiting for the first Challenger, an athlete risking insulin shock to attempt gobbling a dozen doughnuts and running four miles in under an hour. "Harbor left the doughnuts three minutes behind an Iron Man guy!" declared a Florida State cross-country runner. "I don't know if he caught him!" I wasn't sure who the "Iron Man guy" could be, but he must have built his lead in the eating zone. Could he hold off Harbor on the run? We settled down to see.

Bib numbers 1 through 200 were reserved for Challengers, and the first low number on the hill was Harbor. Was his face almost as green as his shorts? Harbor's friends didn't seem to notice as they yelled encouragement. He crossed the line at about 27:45 as the first runner to complete the full Challenge. Much later, Bill Lott came by and gave me a report. "There are a lot of folks up there losing it right after the finish," he said. "The guy who won held on for a few minutes after he finished but then he had to toss his cookies, too."

I watched Challengers lurching up the hill until the one hour limit had passed. There were still runners coming in, but quite a few athletes had beaten the Challenge that day--enough that maybe there needs to be a greater challenge. I expect that if the Krispy Kreme Challenge continues to spread then we can expect to see it morph into the Cholesterol Man Triathlon: swim and eat a rasher of bacon, bike and eat a bucket of Buffalo chicken wings, and run and eat a dozen Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts. You might feel your stomach clench in horror, but it's really no more than the Europeans expect of us.


Links:

• Tallahassee joins the Krispy Kreme Challenge circuit
  http://troubleafoot.blogspot.com/2010/01/tallahassee-joins-krispy-kreme.html
  
  
• Photos of the 2010 Krispy Kreme Challenge at Florida State University
  http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2793082&id=5215641&l=d4e7d2e21f
  
  
• Krispy Kreme Challenge web site
  http://www.krispykremechallenge.com/