This post is written by Becca Atkinson, a mom of two in Easley, S.C., where she works as a relationship manager for a technology company. This is a companion piece to last Friday’s post: We’re subconsciously trying to convince you to run a relay race!

The race may have begun at 6:00 a.m., yet the team was formed over post-race tacos and beer a year ago. We had just wrapped up the 2024 Ville to Ville Craft Brew Relay Race, running 72 miles from Asheville, North Carolina, to Greenville, South Carolina. Tipping back beers and reminiscing over the grueling day of rolling mountain hills, high heat and humidity, and laughing at our potential new team name “Eat, Die, or Growl at Someone,” the five of us looked around the table and were in total agreement—we were definitely doing this again!

Fast forward to 2025, our team is now complete: BAMRBassadors Brandi, Lynn, Marissa, Stacy, team captain Alison, me, and our aptly named sherpa driver, Charity. A less-punchy team name (Winded), new team members, and a dedicated chauffeur mean we are ready to tackle this year’s course!

Rain earlier in the week brought a cold front that created perfect running weather. It has been a hard year for western N.C. and the upstate region of S.C. In September, Hurricane Helene pummeled the region and just a few short weeks ago, both regions endured wildfires. The race course was definitely impacted by hurricane damage, but fortunately we received notice that the fires did not alter the course. 

Each team member takes on two legs of varying distance and terrain. The legs are rated 1-10 (easy to hard) based on distance and accent. Despite running “downhill” from Asheville, every leg has an uphill, including an uphill start! (The injustice!) The course meanders quiet mountain roads, serving up lovely early spring scenery, including new leaves on the trees that offer some shade. 

As each gal is pounding the pavement, the rest of us quickly navigate from one transition point to the other—which is where the real shenanigans occur. Six middle-aged women in a Chevy Suburban for 12+ hours turn us into a gaggle of teenagers, except with life experience, credit cards, and stretch marks. We stop at road-side coffee shops and a grocery store for caffeine and fuel. (Pringles and Twizzlers are team faves!) We gab about everything, starting with our kids, families, and past races. The conversations turn to jokes, then give way to flat-out silliness. 

As each runner returns from her leg, we catch her up on all the conversation she missed—from Terry’s crack (a misunderstood reference to a local road named Terry’s Gap Road) to meat raffles (apparently a thing in the Midwest). None of it makes sense post-race (or in this post!), yet it does if you’ve ever traveled in a small space for a long period of time and know how anything and everything becomes funny. By the last transition, the car looks as if ravaged by a bunch of kids, with sports gear and crumbs everywhere. 

As we get closer to Greenville, the air is warmer, the conversations are more uproarious, and our legs are tired. Not fully “Winded,” our team crosses the finish line and celebrates with photos and medals. Afterward, we end up right where we started a year ago: same restaurant, same sense of accomplishment and unadulterated joy, and same final thought—let’s do it again!