So now I needed to round up eleven other runners for my team. Several had already spoken up prior to the BRA meeting about being on a second team. It was just a matter of getting them to commit. In other words, "pay up sucka." Each runner had to pay an entry fee to me and I had to register the team on-line. No team name required at this time. Just a team number.
We were going to enter in the "open division" which meant no age restrictions and at least 6 runners had to be women. Who to choose and who to beg. There was going to be some arm twisting, bribes and if necessary, photos posted on TMZ.com. I save all videos for personal viewing.
As it stood, I already had three runners committed. Well four when including me. I had Carribean Steve, who was my international runner in case there was some kind of mandate I had to fulfill. I had Veronica, who was my Ragnar veteran and was going to bring her logistical expertise to the table. And I had Beth, who I reserve the right to comment on later. Now eight to go.
I talked to the captain of the "fast" BRA team and we both agreed that we would not try to recruit each others runners that were on the fence. If a runner committed to his team, again a woman, I would not try to convince her to run for me. Running club first. Now that doesn't mean there weren't others trying to win them over.
My thought was to put out the generic invitation and see who bites. There were some that wanted to join but could not get out of work or family plans. For those two, you know who you are, I have a spot for you in 2010. There were others that were hemming and hawing about what to do. I knew one in particular would come around after all the hounding and pressure put on her by my minions. I for one am glad she caved. P-Funk-U, welcome aboard. The team now had a mediator for those unresolved issues or fights brewing about creative differences.
Five down. Seven to go.
Forthcoming: The Rest of the Line-up or Jumpin Jack Flash