Learning from years of mistakes as a long-time race director

I think it was around late 1979 that I started being a road race director. Being a race director came about after a poorly organized race held here in San Marcos that had runners saying that they will never come back to San Marcos races again. The organizer tossed a large box from his pickup with the race shirts for runners to dig through it looking for their correct size. When we finished the race we were handed our finish and place card. About 10 yards further we handed the card back to an assistant without filling in our name or age group. When it came time for awards nobody knew who won.

I have been asked how I became a race director. I tell them by watching mistakes, making mistakes, learning to never to assume anything, and learn the warning signs from volunteers. A few examples might help you understand some of things that can go wrong with a race.

After taking a course certification course I decided to put on a race out at Country Estates. I made a starting banner, direction arrows, finish buckets, and even designed the race T-shirt. I recruited about five people to help with registration and direction people. I entered the race thinking that things were set. At the starting line a neighbor must not have liked my banner as it was on the side of the road tipped over. As we ran to the first turn my direction arrow pointing to the left was being played with by a kid. He left the arrow pointing right. As I approached the turn I noticed the lead runners were all turning right to RR12 heading for Wimberley. I yelled at them and got them turned around. At the finish I noticed the runners just standing around. All my volunteers for registration thought their job was over and had gone home. It took some time but I managed to get the winners and awards correct. My Gatorade mix person tried to read directions instead of pouring the whole can in the five gallon cooler. Trying to figure out how many 3 ounce cups go into five gallons was just too much math. I found the Gatorade mix by the side of the pool giving the local ants a feast. I decided then that if I ever become a race director I will never run in the race. My first race was a disaster. 

At a race in New Braunfels we came to a “Y” in the road. No direction sign so the lead runners chose the right fork. A few of us got there a short time after that and a direction person arrived and said we need to take the left fork. It was too late to catch the lead runners on the right fork. It is the only race I have ever been too where the runners approached the finish line from both directions.

I was directing a race and was dropping off direction volunteers. At one intersection the runners had to turn to the right, and on returning follow the same road by turning to the left. I explained to the volunteer, “When they come out you point with your left hand to have the runners go right, then when they return point with your right hand to turn them left.” Mistake one was using confusing language to describe directions. The second was recognizing the warning signs on the volunteer. He was looking at his hands with a furrowed brow and glazed eyes while trying to wonder how his left hand was going to point right and his right hand was going to point left. I assigned a new direction person for that location.

I had the Country Roads 15K race at the old high school location and ran out Staples Road to Old Bastrop Highway and turn left at the intersection. I recruited my son, an eighth grader at the time, to lead the race. I was going to drive him out to show him the course when a friend showed up and said he had a college student who could lead the race. I told my son he could be a second rider and drop back in case a group lost contact with the lead runners. During the race the college lead biker said he would go back and check on the stragglers. That left my son leading the race. He remembers me telling him that just past the two-mile mark you make a left run on Bastrop Highway. Just past the two-mile mark was a road. My son did not see that about 20 yards up a hill was the sight of a volunteer and direction arrows at Old Bastrop Highway. My son turned on the road just past the 2 mile mark as he was told. The problem was the road went for one mile to a dead end. It was a tough return trip for my son. My problem was I assumed my friend with the person wanting to lead the race knew where the course went. I needed to follow my rules of driving the course with the lead bike. Don’t assume anything. David Alexander and I could write a book on things that can go wrong at a race.