Between the Legs

I used to have no idea why people do those Ragnar relay races.

I still have no idea. But I agree that (for some reason) they actually are fun.

I got over my mess of a marathon pretty quickly. But for the first time in seven years, I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my running. So when my friend Dave hit me up like "one of our runners is hurt, want to run a Ragnar?" I was like "why the hell not?"

That's a lie.

I was actually like "but what about work?" and "I don't have the money for this right now" and "I might need to cover my coworker's on-call rotation" and "how will I get any sleep?" and "but if I park my car in Burlington, how am I going to get to it after the race?"

Luckily, Dave took all of my anxieties in stride and found a way to make it work. Which is how I found myself at the Alger Park & Ride at 6:55 PM on Friday, waiting for a van full of mostly strangers to pick me up and bring me to my exchange so that I could run three times overnight.

My team outfitted me with a bunch of flashy things because it was getting dark. I looked like an alien. I jogged up for about a mile, did a few strides, and then hung out on Old Highway 99 waiting for a total stranger to hand me a slap bracelet. Team Stilts/Uterus Catchers was complete.

Boom, baby!

Our team was pretty fast, and the fastest teams started last. So the slower teams were hours ahead of us, and at this point we were yet to catch any of them. So I ran a solo 5K tempo on Old Highway 99 at 8:30 PM after a full day of work. I felt awful. It took me 20:56 (6:45 pace).

My uterus did not fall out.

I complained a lot. You know. "Oh my god, that was so slow" and "that was way too hard" and "I have no idea how the hell I'm going to do my next two legs." Then I realized that's totally not the point of Ragnar.

I put on some dry clothes, wiped myself clean with Shower Pills, ate a Lara Bar, shut up, and had fun.

At about 11:00 PM we drove to our next major exchange for some sleep while the first van ran their second legs. All of the slower seeded teams were there, so it was extremely crowded and there was nowhere to park anywhere near the high school where there was indoor sleeping. I broke out my sleeping bag and pillow, put in some ear plugs, covered my eyes with one of those airplane sleeping masks, and passed out on a patch of grass with about fifty other runners. When I woke up, everyone was gone.

Except my van.

It was about 2:00 AM. I think. I don't really remember. I didn't look at the time because I didn't want to think about how little sleep I was getting.

Juliana, bless her heart, was the first runner in our van. Her second leg was 8.7 hilly miles. It took her 58:18 (6:37 pace).

I threw on my college uniform.

And some arm warmers for good measure. 

When my leg rolled around at 4:30 AM, I was so delirious and giddy that I enjoyed every single second of it. It was only two miles, so I didn't get to enjoy it for very long. But it was pretty much a straight hill climb. I'm usually terrible at hills. But I felt really strong.

We were finally catching up with other teams, so I got nine "kills." Every time I saw another runner (another bouncing light in the distance) I focused on catching them. My brain was still asleep. I was running through a dream. It took me 13:38 (6:49 pace).

"I'll just pretend it's XC"

We were at an LDS temple and some dude in a religious van was totally thrilled that I had passed him, and all of his friends were making fun of him for it. I didn't know what to say since I wasn't sure if I would somehow offend him and at that point I was just trying to have fun and run my heart out.

We closed the van door and drove on.

The sun was rising. And we were at Deception Pass. Jesus fuck. I could have sat on that bridge forever. I think I get it now.

The next exchange was at a gas station. I walked in absolutely determined to get real food and some coffee. I walked out with a bag full of Goldfish® Baby Cheddar and some gummy worms. Whatever.

At the next major exchange, I dozed off for 30 minutes. I woke up at 6:30 AM. I felt excitement, dread, and exhaustion all blissfully brewed together into some concoction that I knew would be enough to fuel my third run. Or maybe that was the coffee. And pancakes. And bacon.

I was getting to know my teammates in my van in a way that you can only get to know people that you spend twenty-four sweaty hours with cramped up into a small space doing something crazy together. And I'd run into several of my friends and Club Northwest teammates along the way.

I was happy.

The sun rose. And rose. And rose. It was hot. My teammates all put on sunscreen, and I was like nah, I don't need that stuff; it's only 5.8 miles.

Before my leg, I doused myself with cold water. "If I look terrible," I told my teammates, "just throw some water at me from the van. I like that kind of stuff."

It was noon. It was eighty degrees out. I was supposed to run this:

That first hill tho

To my surprise, I felt great. I felt smooth climbing and fast descending. I kept track of kills. And this time there were lots of them. 18, 19, that's like almost a marathon of kills. My van drove by. They literally threw a water bottle at me. Like not the water. The actual bottle. A van almost rear-ended them and honked and the water whizzed by my head and landed in a ditch. I laughed and kept running.

20, 21, my van drove by again. This time Fat Brock got out and crossed the street and handed me a bottle of water. I drank a sip and then poured the rest on myself again. Thank god.

I logged 32 kills and ran 38:15 (6:35 pace).

Dave made these awesome spreadsheets.

A couple of our runners got lost I guess, and Dave took a tumble. We still finished in 23:41:52 for sixth mixed open team and thirteenth overall.

Uteri still intact.

I'd totally do it again.