Running on Empty (23 page)

A “Typical” Day on the Crew

No two days were the same for the crew, although many of their duties were routine. Long hours and repetitive tasks tended to make the days blur together, and the close quarters made for plenty of laughter and the occasional short temper. But the big perk was, as the crew mantra declared, they got to see America, one mile at a time.

 

Morning Drill:
Often, whoever was on duty to crew in the morning would have slept in the RV with Heather and me (and other people) the night before. Cozy! Starting at about six a.m., someone prepared my breakfast; someone else massaged my foot and ankle; someone else checked that the van had been stocked the night before with food and clothes and anything else needed for the day. Two people would get into the crew van and drive me to the stakeout point from the night before (if we weren't there already), and anyone else stayed behind to clean up the RV and make it ready for my nap later, prepare food, run errands, service the RV, and take care of anything unexpected. Some collaboration with the film crew facilitated route planning.

On Course:
One person drove the van, pulling over onto the shoulder every mile and waiting there for me to run up from behind. This was the coveted job, as the driver controlled the music and any DVD they might be playing. The “wheelman” also maintained the logbook, jotting down mileage and times, pace, injury updates, landmarks, people we'd meet, and any other thing of note. Another person did the “kitchen” job, preparing my food and drink, as well as serving as “the gimp” (our admittedly tasteless name for the job—thanks,
Pulp Fiction
), handling my gear and bringing me whatever I needed, including meds and lipshit. The gimp would walk with me for a short distance, check on me, see what I might need next, and then return to the van. In other words, drive, tend to the runner, repeat.

At the end of the “day,” usually sometime between one or two in the morning, they'd stake out my finishing point and either drive me to a hotel or leave me at the RV.

 

TMI:
Most of the time, the crew used the great outdoors as their bathroom. They reserved the RV toilet for me, which I used whenever I was there for a nap or the night, mostly because maintenance of the thing would have become a full-time job if we'd made it the public restroom, and even as it was, we occasionally had a backup into the shower drain. To understate it, the crew put up with a lot. Gimps would scrunch in the backseat of the van between the two big coolers, one filled with food and the other with drink. I know their bodies got sore from sitting back there and climbing in and out of the vehicle. Rarely did they take time for themselves, although I hear that some showered more regularly than others, and therefore smelled better. Occasionally the crew ate a meal somewhere other than the RV or van. It was grueling, unrelenting, focused work. As Roger would say, “This train doesn't stop.”

 

Crew Roster:
Here's a full accounting of all the wonderful people who came out to help, in order of appearance. Heather Ulrich, Dr. Paul Langevin, Kathleen Kane, Jesse Riley, Roger Kaufhold, Dave Pearson, Brian Weinberg, George Velasco, Colleen Oshier, Becky Clements, Theresa Daus-Weber, Amira Soliman, Todd Holmes, Chuck Dale, Elaine Ulrich, Alexandra Ulrich, Taylor Ulrich, Kira Matukaitis, Rick Baraff, Jenny Longpre, Dave Thorpe, Alex Nement, Bob Becker, Cole Hanley, Kate O'Neil, Michael Mezzacupo, Tom Triumph, Mark Macy, Therese Triumph, Kathy Farrell.

We laughed our heads off. We missed our friends and family. We saw America. We watched Marshall accomplish something—daily—that is difficult even to wrap your head around. We met people from across the country, and saw towns and places and landscapes that many never get to experience. We cried. And we argued at times. We made memories. I think we all came away changed.

—Kira Matukaitis

I've never been so tired, but I've never had such a unique experience. This adventure took me into the heart of America: I either drove very slowly or walked very briskly along a ribbon of highway that never ceased to introduce me to the beauty of city, ocean, vineyard, desert, mountain, evergreens, scrub bushes, a fall palette of glistening leaves, streams, rivers, sunrise, sunset, the first star, the Milky Way spilled out across the heavens from horizon to horizon, the waxing and waning moon. The quiet where I could find myself and God. And the people. One mile at a time, I met humanity.

—Kathleen Kane

There were many times when I thought it was over. There were several instances in which Marshall found himself doubting or having a hard time, not wanting to be alone out there. It's part of being human. It would have been
that
easy for him to quit, and we would all have understood. But he didn't. So I'd go out with him on these nights for as long as he wanted, until we were either laughing hysterically or so inspired that he finished extra mileage. He told me later that these conversations were pivotal to his success.

—Brian Weinberg