Ragnar 187.1

Thank you. That's the only way to start this blog. It's only appropriate. Thank you. First of all a monster thanks to the team - Albert (my running angel), Don (the strongman), Jerry (super human volunteer), Kathy (best navigator ever), Shelly (the jack rabbit), Stephanie (my checkpoint angel and cruiser - yes, she gets two names), and Susan (the warrior). More on them later.... Thanks to Sharon who I believe was texting us while hanging from rock ledges in Arizona to make sure we were being safe - that meant more than you know. To family and friends your support was fantastic and so appreciated. So for everyone listed here, a huge THANKS for being in my corner and supporting me through this adventure instead of calling the funny farm and having me carted away and tossed in a padded room.

I didn't train properly for this run. I ran 400 meter sprints to gain speed. Many a day I ran them until I was going to puke. Then we decided to do something crazy - read the rules. Turns out Ultra teams run doubles which means the training should have been endurance and hills vs speed. No big deal, I had three weeks to transition my body from speed to more mileage than I ever dreamed of. Not so much. I entered this run trained for a different run. My longest run over the past 3 months had been 9 miles and most averaged 6. Now I was off to run between 28-30 (ended with a mileage count of 31.5 miles). Was I nervous? Maybe a little on the inside.

Around 7:00am Friday morning we jumped into the van that would be our home for the next 30 or so hours. Tight fit, no toilet, tires in need of air, and a rattle that sounded as if something was going to fall off but nothing ever did. We used the drive to Blaine to start getting to know each other - some of us had never met other than Facebook. We connected fast. Maybe because we were runners. Maybe it was the nervous jitters for the unknown adventure we were about to embark on. Regardless of the reason we were becoming friends by the time we hit Blaine. While it might not have seemed that important at the time, it would end up making the difference as the relay progressed.

Jerry. We had to produce three volunteers or pay $300. Jerry stepped up as a super volunteer and bailed us out. He was stationed in Coupeville from 2:00am - 1:00pm. Eleven hours, no sleep. Thank you Jerry. You're an amazing person.

We arrived in Blaine, checked in, and attended the safety briefing. This race is all about safety. There were more places on the course where you could be hit and seriously injured than you can imagine. Blind corners, cars flying by 55 mph, little or no running room on the road so you were in the street. Factor in running in the dark and you have the ingredients for disaster. We exited the briefing and began to soak in the excitement. Booths, teams, rock n roll music, energy. It was like a drug. I started to feel like anything was possible, my running shoes had magical powers that would carry me to the finish. Let's get this relay started!

Don. Our strongman. He ran the first leg, got us started out of the gate. It had to be nerve racking to go first. He took it in stride. He took the nervousness off our shoulders and placed it firmly on his own. His first double leg would tell us all something about what was ahead. He was out of the gate and running strong. We jumped in the van to begin our leapfrog approach - drive ahead, let the runner catch up to check on them, and drive further up and wait. Don was strong. Mile after mile he looked like an ironman. Just watching him run built confidence in me. Later in the relay after his second double Don was done. His hip said no more. I know it was hard for him to listen but he did the right thing and did not run his last double. It was smart. No run is worth the possible permanent damage an injury can cause. That decision spoke volumes about Don and I for one was impressed by it.

My first double. Ok, this looks to be a long blog so if you need to pee or get a drink of water go ahead, I'll wait. I learned a lesson about fueling on this leg - and maybe a bit about smart running. It was my first and worse leg. I woke at 5:30am and had a bowl of cereal. Snacked on the drive. Had a 6 inch sub and a couple bottles of water. At 5:30pm I started my first run. 80+ degrees, sun beating down, 9.3 miles, and Michael. I was ready. Go slow it's not a race. Take it easy you have a lot of miles before this relay is done. Got it. Lost it. Ran the first mile in 7:24, second in 7:45, third and fourth close to 8:00. I was spent. Had no juice, no energy. Spent it all on the first four frickin miles and had five to go. Stupid. I couldn't get out of the sun and my legs were heavy and didn't want to move. Albert got me water and told me to slow and take it easy. Around mile 7 he was waiting for me with some G2. I knew something was up the way he was looking at me. "Are you ok" "Are you dizzy" "How do you feel" "You back is clammy". Turns out I had a bit of heat exhaustion. The final couple of miles were painful. It's hard to describe. It was so hot I couldn't stand it yet I was cold at the same time. My magical running shoes had become cement. More than once I was ready for Jesus to take me. What the fuck was wrong with me, I'm a runner. I wasn't a smart runner. Then I saw her. Stephanie. She became my checkpoint angel. She would always run after me. She was always there ready to take the handoff and allow my pain to subside. I would have hugged her but I couldn't lift my arms - in fact I wasn't sure I still had them. Albert helped me to the van for G2, a banana, and my trusty Muscle Milk. He described my last couple of miles being like a punch drunk fighter who went 15 rounds, staggering and wobbling, like Rocky screaming for Adrian..."Yo Adrian get me the hell out of here"...

Albert. My running angel. Now you know why. He looked after me as he often does. I remember giving him water as he ran through his checkpoint (Ultra teams handoff every other checkpoint whereas the "normal" teams do it every time). I asked him how he was doing and he replied "Doing fine, make sure you're hydrating". Middle of a frickin hard run and he's making sure I'll be ok on mine. He was always checking on me - he knew I wasn't trained for this and I think he had a mission to make sure I didn't hurt myself. Now Albert was beginning to get a reputation on the course. Maybe it was because he ran in nothing but skimpy shorts and the girls from many teams took notice. I always ran after Albert. On more than one occasion while waiting for him, teams would ask about him - girls would ask about him. I should make note that there were very few Ultra teams and our running bibs were green not orange like everyone else - so the Ultras stuck out. Teams were amazed with his running. Same perfect form regardless of terrain. "Who is that guy", "He looks so strong", "Never looks tired". Albert had lots of nasty legs. Hills that the van had trouble going up he had to run. He pounded them out. He ran 16.7 miles in the middle of the night. He ran strong.

Kathy. She was our driver. She was really more than that. She drove the entire time less maybe two hours for a short nap. We never got lost, our runners were always there to take the handoff. A lot of teams can't say that. Runners hit the checkpoint and their van and next runner wasn't there. The van is your lifeline. Food, drink, and your support are all there. Without it you are done for. Thank you Kathy for navigating a difficult course and allowing us to recover without worry of taking a turn driving. I cannot imagine how I would have driven if I had too. It would have been impossible.

My second double. 3:00am. 7 miles. I was wearing the same clothes I ran my first double in. Never changed. If you're thinking gross you are right, I was one stinky boy. I was well hydrated and fueled. The night was beautiful. Nearly a full moon, not a cloud in the sky, and stars everywhere. I took the handoff as was off. I was alone running through a small town and neighborhood. Once in a while a car would drive by and I only saw one runner. I ran without music. Something clicked and I ran with ease. Strong but not stupid pace. I felt as if I was the only one on earth. It was so peaceful, just me and my headlamp. I only turned it off once when I had to pee like crazy and decided to pee on a fire hydrant. As silly as it sounds that was fun too. Hey, I had been up since 5:30am, it was now 22 hours later, one crappy leg down, and I had not slept a wink. I'm lucky I didn't pee on myself! I cruised to the checkpoint ahead of schedule, felt like I could run more, and handed off to Stephanie.

Shelly. The jack rabbit. Our crazy team captain that made all this happen. Thanks Shelly (I think)! This girl has a tremendous amount of energy. I need to mention that she had strep throat as well! She ran great legs - and she only trains on a treadmill. Shelly would run to music. But not with those little earphones you stick in your ear. No. She wore these huge headphones that looked like something from the 80's. Picture Princess Leia (Star Wars). That's it. Everyone noticed...it was funny. But it worked. Proof was found during her night time run. Shelly and her headset zipping along with quick little steps. We watched her coming up to some runners and bam, like a jack rabbit she picked up the pace and flew by them. It was so funny to watch. Her legs moved like those of a cartoon character when they would fly forward and then zip, the rest of the body would snap forward with a whoosh. I was laughing out loud. She never complained and ran hard.

Susan. The warrior. The power of this woman is amazing. She runs and runs. Never a complaint. Hardly a word. Beats the dickins out of every mile and keeps on going. I don't know how she does it. I would go into battle with her and she would lead the charge, taking out the enemy with each swing of the sword. She loves her grapes. Susan - I would run with you any time. Your approach to each leg, each mile was simply to knock them out. Get them down. And you did. You did it in such an impressive and quiet manner. Girl, you can kick some serious ass.

Bonus run. Don made the right decision with his hip and his double was up in 15 minutes. Shelly and I were awake so we were making plans. We decided to break it up and I would start and the team would catch up and we'd trade off. I got out to warm up and saw Stephanie come down to Deception State Park. I took a quick hit of my inhaler, tossed the water and jacket and ran over. I think she was surprised to see me. I took the handoff and started to run - only to get called back by the race official. He said to put on safety gear of wait 10 minutes (at 7:15am you no longer have to wear it). Screw waiting, Stephanie stopped and as she took stuff off I slammed on and off I went. It was painful. It had only been 90 minutes since my last run. I admit that my ankles were sore and quads burned with every step. As my feet hit the road I felt pain from my calf to my quad. It was almost funny. Why am I out here? Four miles later the van arrived and I was ready to rest.

Third and final double. 11.2 miles. The sun was back and I had a long one in front of me. Again I was pretty rested and fueled. Still no more than 30 minutes of sleep and it'd been about 27 hours since I slept and had three runs locked down. Learning a lesson from the first run, Susan gave me her pink top and they tied it on my head. I tossed on my shades and looked a bit like a gay pirate. Who cares...I'm a flippin Ultra running on my last double...I'm an athlete. Laugh if you will but I really didn't care what anyone thought. I saw my reflection in the window and loved the look. You'll see it on the picture I'll post with this. I took off slow but strong. The first 6 miles or so weren't bad. Long stretches of pavement. Passed the checkpoint and continued on for the second half of the double. Within a quarter mile I was running a steep hill. A half mile later I was at the top - tired. Running. Other vans were driving by yelling encouragement - that was great! Then I saw it. Yikes. On the horizon I saw the steepest hill ever. It was like a stairway to heaven. Maybe a mile in front of me. As I got closer I was sure that there would be a turn before the hill started and I would be saved. Then I saw our van. Parked a third of the way up. I saw Albert and yelled out something like "Who the fuck put that there". I knew I had to tackle it. It was crap. I ran/walked. Quads burned like hot coals had been jammed in them. The team cheered me on and I needed it. Cresting the top was amazing. I was sure God would be there but that wasn't the case. The rest of the run was good and the final one mile marker was in sight. All was good until I saw the last hill. Short but steep. Felt like I wasn't moving and the volunteer at the top yelled out "only 150 yards left". Inspiration. Better yet it was downhill. I handed off to Stephanie and I was done. Spent, relieved, proud, wiped. I sat and Stephanie took off on the last double our team had - the end was in sight.

Stephanie. Checkpoint angel and cruiser. I think you know now why she gets two names. She was the angel that told me without words that I would be ok. That it was ok to stop. That she would take it from here. The hug at the end of my last leg let me know my relay was over. It was ok to rest. Thanks Stephanie. She is a cruiser. Takes off and runs. Simply runs. Runs strong and focused. We usually didn't see her right away because the team would allow me time to recover before driving off. Then we'd hit the road and she'd be miles up the road. Her attitude was great and she is very funny. We hit it off. Sometimes you simply have to be silly to get through. Silly worked and we got through. She came in on the final stretch looking strong and we all felt this incredible joy, having completed the relay.

We smelled. We laughed. We hurt. There was support from each other, support from other teams. I know that this relay changed me a little. It wasn't easy and I struggled, struggled more that I ever have, more than I thought I would. It was more guts than training. Looking back I don't know how I managed all those miles. 31.5. More hills than I can remember. 30 plus hours without sleep. 50 plus honey bucket visits. I pushed through when I wanted to stop, when I thought I would throw up, when I hurt so bad I became numb, when I didn't know how my leg was taking another stride forward. It seemed more of a life test than a relay. Often alone. I'm glad I did it. Maybe you'll see something different in me, maybe not. My life has been different since my running started. It continues to evolve. To change. It doesn't work for everyone but it does for me. Maybe I'm selfish. I can't change who I am or am becoming. Push yourself. Don't settle. Expect a lot from yourself and you can expect it from others. Have fun. Be silly. Run...don't jog.

Like a bottle rocket

That was the plan. Run like a bottle rocket. Illegal, fast, and somewhat out of control. Reality - not so much. I paid to run so the illegal angle was shot right off the bat. My 7:28 pace felt fast but I was a few seconds slower than last year and my age division kicked my butt. I was however out of control. I had to fight through this one. The first two miles were ok but mile three was an awkward pace - up and down, form good and bad. If I was in a zone it was the Twilight Zone. My mind wandered. Poor focus equals poor results. Finally I zeroed in on an old guy in front of me. Clearly in my age division. I closed in behind him and attempted to "draft". After a couple of minutes he turned his head and said "I can hear you back there" and he slid over to the side. I let out a soft whimpered "sorry" and slowed a bit. I knew my time wouldn't rock the world and decided that what was important now was to finished before this guy. I matched my pace with his and once we made the final turn toward the finish I lit my bottle rocket - lit my bottle rocket, that doesn't sound right does it? Anyway, it was lit and I took off. I hurt, my legs hurt, my lungs hurt. He finished behind me. I have a picture that I will post. Small victories...nothing wrong with that. If there was a first place medal for finding one's happy place, it would be mine.

Enough about me. Today some of the Tri team ran. Let me start by saying that some days are simply better than others. Other days surprise you. Today it was both. Today I saw heart and determination. Love and support. A couple months ago most of us were strangers. Today we're just strange. Not really....ok, maybe a little - but somehow it works for us and that's what matters. It was incredible to see everyone coming down the home stretch, running their hearts out, pushing their limits. As they came down the home stretch I was thinking about our first team run. It seemed so long ago and these now familiar faces weren't newbies anymore - they were runners. Hitting their stride, pumping their arms, driving to the finish. Each one cheering for the next runner coming in. Time meant zip. Support meant everything. You guys are unbelievable. Shawnte and Melanie - wowza! I think you've been holding back on us, great run today! I think the Tuesday and Saturday runs will be turned up a notch or two.

Strange. Unique. Tri-team. Let's see. Albert and I were in the men's room hoping to drop our running weight by a pound or two (with no success). I'm finishing my task at hand and I hear this very familiar feminine voice - Sharon. Once again she's in the men's room. Moves right to the front of the line asking the line if they mind. What would you say? She pops into a stall and the guy who had just stepped out of it looks at me and says "Tell her it wasn't me, it was the guy who was in there before me"....yup, that's our world.

Then we had the naked brothers. David and Albert. You would have thought they were at the Bare Buns Run, not the wholesome YMCA. They both kicked my ass today - Albert recorded at PR, nearly breaking the 20 minute mark. David just ran. He's a runner. I don't believe he thinks about it, just runs. Fast. Speaking of nearly naked, Sharon had a new running bra which we all had the opportunity to ah, review. I kept eye contact. Eye contact only. Look at her eyes Michael. I might have failed a few times. For the first time ever - first time ever - Sharon lied about her age. In her "new" age division she came in second. Had she put down her real age she would have walked away with a first place medal. Go figure.

Heather surprised me the most. Talk about grit. That girl doesn't give up. We have run together many times, often in the back of the pack. But each time she gets better. Each time she gives it everything. Today was no different and she looked great crossing the finish line. Her hubby Iain (rocket scientist) worked out formulas to determine where she would be at various points so he could take pictures. He was spot on. Wow. We looked like a cult in our yellow Tri shirts. I didn't wear mine because I have a shirt I like to run in. Received the stink eye for not wearing it but I like to think I was forgiven as the day progressed. After running his fastest 5K, Albert ran back to support others and ran them in to the finish. Heart. He's a good man.

Had lunch with Sharon's parents - had a blast. Her dad is battling health issues and I wish him the best - pulling for him. He's a tough guy who I respect and he'll come out of this strong. He quizzed me on World Cup history and for once I think I held my own. Funny guy. Smart guy. Her mom is always fun to hang around. She'll make you laugh and when you sit back and just listen to her you quickly see the depth of a person who has experienced so much, both good and bad, and enjoys every day.

I find myself to be lucky. Lucky to know the people I do. Lucky that they look past my faults and accept me for me. The not so perfect. I can only be who I am. Do what I do. Feel how I feel. I forgive and am forgiven. Nothing is too serious nor too silly. Life isn't easy but each day is replaced with another. Another opportunity. Make the most of yours. Be silly. Love. Run naked.