Amazing what interesting things can happen to a bunch of guys wandering around the beachfront of Myrtle Beach at eleven pm.
This past March, of 2016, I went as part the MVNU track team to the Coastal Carolina Invitational in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Our team of about 40 individauls was going for trip over spring break… there was no way we could compete with teams from Division 1 schools like Michigan, North Dakota State, and Ohio State. Most teams there had over 100 members. We were just there to have fun… well, if you call that fun.
We had two days of practice and relaxation before the meet. Tuesday we spent playing ultimate frisbee on the beach, trying to get our Cleveland-born sprinters to get in the 50 degree Atlantic, and burying one of our teamates in the sand. Tuesday was a pretty chill day, we got back from dinner that night, not really feeling like doing anything.
Wednesday, though, was a completely different story.
Wednesday, we had a lot of nervous energy, so, at 11:00pm, four of us, me, Sam, Stu, and Walter, decise to go for a walk down the beach. Our goal was the pier, three miles away. It was a beautiful night out, the moon was up, the tide was coming in, and the traffic was quiet. We maybe made it a mile and a half down the beach when we come to an inlet that none of us wanted to swim across, forcing us to awkwardly walk through someone’s front yard, then backyard to get to a road. Meanwhile, Sam is at the rear if the line just moaning and waiting for something to grab him… or so he said.
We pop out out a nice little beach lane, which dead ends, and decide to walk through part of a golf course and by the local country club. No doubt some of the patrons were wondering what two black and two white guys were doing golfing at 11:30 at night.
Finally, we get back to what seems to me a semi-main road, and learn, upon consuting our smart phone, that the inlet we’d hoped to avoid ran inland a mile and there was no way we were getting to the pier.
A one word summary of the first half of our trip.
A two word summary of the second half.
We decided to stick to asphalt on the way back. Maybe a good idea.
We’re walking down some random road in the middle of a residential zone, on the way back to our hotel; I’m looking at my phone trying not to get us lost, all of a sudden, Sam says, in the calmest voice ever, “Oh look, a dog.”
Not sure what happened next, but within about 15 seconds, all four of us were a hundred yards back down the road, while the dog (named Jackie) runs to the house we had just been in front of. Unknowingly, we had left Sam and his torn hamstring hobbling up the road 40 yards back. Oops.
What was so stupid about the whole thingis that Jackie came from around the corner up the road, as we were walking past her house.
Like really Jackie? You neglect your one job of protecting the house, run around the corner, and think its fair to scare the crap out of four college guys, and then continuously bark for the next 15 minutes. All because we walked the freakin public road in front of your house?
The poor dude who had to come outside to see what was going on with his conceited dog couldn’t even control her. As we slowly edge by, he’s basically folowing her, vainly trying to shut her up. Her two-to-one leg ratio gave her a decisive edge in evasion. We, slowly edging around, just waited for her to pounce.
It all bordered on the slightly absurd. As we finished our walk to the hotel, battle scarred veterans of the midnight Myrtle Beach streets, we agreed to go back and ask if we could borrow Jackie for the next day, stick her behind a runner as he gets ready to start, and then let her go at the starting gun. There certinly would be a lot of personal records set that day.
Unsurprisingly, the owner said no.
You may find this unbearably boring, but I tell you this story for one reason.
- If you go for a stroll and see Jackie… run.