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(look for the State Trooper; don’t run into him or his car, he is unlikely to have a sense of humor about it).
Continue winding down the Fodderstack where some helpful local residents will keep you from wandering off the course (except for the guy four years ago who was almost to the Aileen plant before we caught up to him).
At several point, girls scouts will be passing out water, and the rescue squad will be perched on Lee’s Hill for the faint of heart, short of breath and imminent of collapse. Don’t worry, you’ll be on the home stretch then, and its (almost) all downhill from there. Deputy Ray Jackson will turn you left in Washington, and you’ll go right to the Courthouse on Gay Street and a big finish where the teeming millions of spectators will cheer you to the rooftops (which as you probably know aren’t all that high so this isn’t saying much).
Since its inaugural run over two decades ago, the Fodderstack has become a high point in the local calendar of events. Both long time local runners, Rappahannock wannabes and the odd dedicated runner (no offense intended but, I mean, really) travel to Rappahannock for what is often the first great day of spring.
Our legal team (actually the County attorney, in an offhand remark over lunch) has advised us that a guarantee of
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