Rag-WHAT?

"Picture this: you and 11 of your closest friends running day and night, relay-style, through some of the most scenic terrain North America could muster. Add in live bands, inside jokes and a mild case of sleep deprivation. The result? Some call it a slumber party without sleep, pillows or deodorant. We call it a Ragnar Relay.."

The reality?  Here's what my description would say ...  "Fathom this: You and 11 friends, some you know and some you'll get to know all too well during 2 days, running day and NIGHT and day, relay-style, through some of the driest, hilliest, scariest terrain in North America.  Add in crazy painted vans with crazier people inside, port-a-potties filled to bursting, crappy food that cause direct crappiness, lots of laughter, a little tears, hallucinations, nerves and MAJOR case of sleep deprivation.  The result?  12 cranky women who in the end need a long shower, food and a cave of pillows to hibernate in.  It's Ragnar Relay."

Seriously, it was the hardest physical activity I've ever done.  Akin to the fatigue, mental exhaustion and strain of giving birth (with an epidural, because I really didn't hurt that bad, it was just so mental).  The distances I ran were laughable on a normal day.  All in all I ran a little under the distance of a half marathon over the course of three runs, something I feel I could do pretty easily under normal circumstances.  But this was far from normal.  

First I was in van with crazy talented runners.  One was a former sprinter who is now running longer distances.  Her average pace for each of her legs was 7:30ish a mile.  Yes, you read it right.  Her best pace at a down hill during the race?  4:24 a mile (her last 10 mile leg on 1 hour of sleep).  That's Olympic in my mind.  Next was the amazingly driven, fast runner who I admire so much.  She's a single mom and an engineer who runs during her lunch hour and usually does each mile under the 8 minute mark.  She qualifies easily for Boston every year in one of the half-dozen marathons she runs.  And then there was me.  I usually run about a 9:15 pace.  My first leg I ran it at a 8:48 pace (my best for a 5k distance).  The next two I struggled to keep it under 10 (which means I didn't).  And then there was the new runner who is so positive and fun.  Her perfect hair and makeup were a marvel.  Then there was my running partner who has the most tenacious spirit.  Honestly, when I could tell she was being stretched beyond her limit, she still went out there and kicked butt and ran faster than we normally run.  The last runner in our van is a kick-a mom who despite a stress fracture this year is back to running in the low 8s and who really killed a crazy difficult leg where there were boulders the size of my head to run over IN COMPLETE DARKNESS. And who kept at it, not stopping, despite taking a hard fall.  She was amazing.

I would be lying if I said there was no pressure.  Not from them directly, just from the whole psychology of a race and being in the situation.

My hardest leg was the last.  I was exhausted, having driven through the early morning after my 2 am leg and catching 1 hour of sleep on some gravel at our major exchange.  By the time I ran my 6 miler it was 2 p.m. and I hadn't slept or eaten enough.  It makes me shaky to even think about it.  So I walked/ran, finally deciding that I needed to put my head down to run and focus on the road and put one foot in front of the other to get it done.  And that was honestly the only coherent thought I could keep in my head, "Just put one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other ..."  At the end it helped when I told the guy I was leap-frogging that he needed to keep up with me and beat me.  It was nice to focus my energy on him and it helped me to run it in.  I was exhausted but done.  And then I had my first-ever major asthma attack.  I couldn't breathe or talk.  I was so grateful there were two nurses in my car who monitored me while I recovered.

Running across the finish line as a team only paled in comparison to the feeling I felt when in the airport last night I looked up and saw DH with the kids peeking through the waiting-area window with posters and smiles.  All of the kids ran to me and I swear it was liking coming in first place. 

*Sorry no pictures ... I didn't have a camera.  So I'll post some as soon as I can get a hold of them.*