Ragnar

So once upon a time I decided to go for a run.  An EPIC run.  no really.  I hate the overuse of "epic" but I'm pretty sure this qualifies.

My super awesome cousin and I bond over our slightly crazy obsession with fitness.  He's all runner and I'm more cross training and weights but it's close enough.  Anyway, I joined his team for Ragnar.

And what is Ragnar you ask?  First go watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EL1hLU_LBvs

No seriously, it's 3:40 and totally entertaining.

okay fine.  just in case you didn't.  Ragnar is a 200ish mile overnight relay race.  A team of 12 people splits into 2 vans, takes turns running 4-10 miles at a time and causing all sorts of mayhem and mischief.  The motto: "Run, Drive, Sleep, Repeat"  And seriously, so fun.

I was in van 2, running position 8, which would be three legs totaling 14ish miles.  (Which is more than I've ever run in my life.)  I arrived at my van captain's house on Friday morning.  Van 1 had started at 8:30 but we had to pick up one of our runners from the airport so we never went to the start line.  Instead we spent the morning decorating our van (which was actually a red truck) and getting a pregame snack (hot dog and Mountain Dew Slurpee.  seriously, best team ever.)  Our windows were decorated with our running names (I am Running Rapunzel.  clever huh?) and the truck was strung with giant Christmas lights and crowned with a brightly colored, rotating disco ball.

We made our way to the first major exchange, picked up our stuff, listened to the safety briefing and then wandered the booths.  I ran into a friend from the gym, got some free stuff from the booths, watched the exchanges at the chute (the trade off from one runner to their teammate) and anxiously waited our turn to get started.

My first run was my "warm up", about 3 miles, and perfect for me to figure out how the system worked and get started. My teammate hand off to me and I went for a little run through a rural town.  My team's truck stopped halfway on my run for a "support"--to offer me water or encouragement (in the form of cheering and cowbells) and it was such fun.

My "van" was no ordinary van.  As indicated by our christmas lights and disco ball.  Everyone on the team runs in a tutu.  Because it's fun.  And because no matter how tired, seeing someone running in a tutu makes you smile.  Especially when you see my (male) superstar cousin who rocks out in a rainbow tutu with matching rainbow wings as he flies down the course.  My van is also exceptional because instead of six runners, we only had five.  One of the runners had to drop, meaning their three legs got assigned to the veteran runners in the van.  More on that later.

So my van finished our first round of runs.  We ended at a ski lodge where another major exchange had been set up.  Each exchange has "the chute", where runners hand off the straight-from-the-80s orange slap bracelet.  But the major exchanges (where the vans trade off) also have booths with food, first aid tents and gear.  So I browsed the gear tent, roasted s'mores (no, really) and cheered on other runners.  Then we drove onto the next major exchange to wait for our next turn.  We set up our gas fire pit (earning plenty of compliments on our brilliance from other runners), roasted hot dogs for dinner and then briefly slept in the truck.

I was nervous about my night run.  I thought I would be tired and sluggish and cranky.  But my teammates reassured me the night run was their favorite.  So around 2 am, we braved the dark and cold to don our night gear (according to the super strict and thankfully cautious rules) and lined up at the chute.  When my turn came, my hands and toes were frozen.  But after the first mile, I was thawing out, relaxing and really enjoyed how beautiful and tranquil it was at night.  What a great run.  We slept on and off during each other's legs, or just spent hours talking, and finished when it was light and cheerful again, nearly 10 am.

From there, we drove ahead to the next major exchange again, which happened to be very close to my house.  So after a quick stop at The Store, we went to my house where Husband and the girls were waiting.   Husband and I made a mountain of pancakes and we loaded them with tasty toppings.  We ate, showered, repacked our gear and then lounged in my driveway, resting until our final runs.  The course ran right past my house so we could see and cheer the runners as we lounged.

My team was far behind our anticipated scheduled, due to some injuries.  So Ragnar called us and gave us the go ahead to start early so we could finish before it would be dark again.  Fortunately, I was feeling really good.  My legs were fatigued but I was excited and ready to run again.  One of our veteran runners however was injured so I offered to take her "extra" leg.  It meant that I would double my last leg, combining a "moderate" 5.6 and a "very hard" 4.1.  It was classified as "very hard" because while the first 1.5 miles were relatively flat, the next 3 miles covered 1580 feet of elevation--the first half of the infamous "Ragnar Hill".

And so we started.  My teammate handed off to me and I ran around on some rural back roads that soon led right in front of my own house! My ADORABLE children raced out to meet me to cheer and hug and beg to run with me.  After a quick pit stop I ran on.  This is the leg where I met my fan club, which was another team who was leapfrogging their runner for support.  She was a short distance ahead of me and they stopped at every mile to blast music, dance and cheer as she ran past.  The first time I ran by them, I was singing aloud with my headphones on.  Between the singing and the black and pink poka dot tutu, I managed to gain their attention and from then on, every mile they were waiting for me as well for a mini dance party as I passed.  Then I told them I was running a double and they even gave me my own Olympic medal (their "theme") to show my standing as an honorary team member.

Onto the hill.  I tried running.  But about a mile into the incline, I realized I could walk as fast as I could run, lengthening my stride but breathing easier.  So I mostly walked, jogging on the flatter sections but mostly walking.  By then I had lost reception for Pandora, my music stations, so I took out my headphones and tried heckling the other runners, challenging them to race me to the next bend or so.  my team's truck was sticking close to me by then, squirting me with an oversized water gun and pacing me.  Eventually I made it to the chute and celebrated with an intense, euphoric feeling of accomplishment, having ran a total of 18.4 miles.  I climbed into the back of the truck, devoured a bag of grapes, cheered and shouted nonsense for awhile and generally had a most fantastic, somewhat surreal time.  We made it to the top of the hill and then my superstar cousin took the descent, running in a shiny red tutu with a majestic Superman cape flying behind him.

We met him at the end of his run, sent our final runner on her way and headed for the finish line.  We wandered and waited and soon we joined her for a final jog crossing the finish line as a team.  We received our awesome medals, took a team picture and devoured pizza.  The celebration was pretty short though and soon we were unloading our gear and saying good bye.

at least until the next one.