Running is Not a Team Sport...?

Until a couple of years ago, I always ran by myself. I thought other people would hold me back or push me too hard, and I liked the convenience of going whenever I wanted. And all these things are still true! But then I was introduced to group running through my awesome Cholla Chicks. They push me, support me and drink with me and I am a thousand times better at running because of them. They helped me identify as a runner instead of just a person who goes running for exercise, which in turn connected me to a whole bunch more awesome people!

These are some examples of the intrepid Cholla Chick 

 (Chollus Chickii) species, known for their extreme endurance

I say that to say this: Ragnar is this Friday!  Listen, all races are fun for me. Short ones, long ones, obstacle courses, the burlap sack race at the company picnic. But there is nothing like an endurance relay. We're doing an Ultra team, which means six of us take turns running 212 miles total. But the relay legs are only a part of it. While one person is running, the other five of us, our loyal and stupendous driver/navigators, and our two satellite pilots leapfrog the course cheering, providing support, giving fuel, planning ahead, encouraging, and generally being freaking wonderful to each other. We go for 30+ hours with no sleep on dead legs, and the only thing each of us wants is for the other five girls to do great. Marriage is intimate, but not as intimate as Ragnar.

Endurance runners are a unique bunch of freaks.  Here's a quote from my friend Carl--we went to high school together eons ago, haven't seen each other since:

The thing that I love the most about the Run/Endurance culture is that we are linked by a bond that is forged by shared exhilaration and suffering. You and I were never more than passing acquaintances during our time in school, but late in life I know that in you I have a "sister in pain" that shares a unique bond that can only be known by those that have bled on the same field of battle. Congrats on your accomplishment. Rest and dream. It's time to start Triathlon Training. : )

Let's just push the triathlon suggestion to the back burner, shall we?? But you see what I mean. You haven't experienced closeness until you've sat in a van with someone who has sweated intensely for 18 hours, smells like rotten buttcrack, and still wanted to hug them because they got a half marathon PR in the middle of a 16-mile leg.

When we ran this race last year (described here in my friend Mandi's blog), I felt so much more exhilaration at the end than I generally do after a race.

Maybe it's because I ran with these crazies

This race takes all my favorite parts of running and jams them together for a day and a half, and then we get to drink beer at the end. What could be better?

Wish us luck!

I Nearly Lost My Life in a Portapotty

Good morning friends! Wait, it's afternoon. Good afternoon.

I realize that I owe you a post--it's been two weeks since my marathon--but life happens, you know? Time flies. Mountains move. Babies are born and grandfathers die.

So! The marathon. All that training paid off--I hit my goal time! And I never have to run another marathon again. Except...I think I could do better. This time, it only took me 36 hours to change my mind and decide to do another.

The day started perfectly. I was feeling great after the taper and several weeks of healthy eating. It was about 45 degrees at the starting line. I started at what felt like an easy pace, which was 8:30. I meant to run 8:55 all the way through but I felt so good that I kept going. Mistake! I'll tell you why later. Wait, you know why, right? You can't bank time. You stick to your plan. Everyone knows this. But my dang legs betrayed me.

5 miles in, my belly started to rebel. This is par for the course--it's not a long run unless I feel like I'm going to poop myself at least three times. I veered off to the portapotty and then things got ugly. It was already full to within a foot of the perch and I was scared for my butt.  What if there was splashing and something got on me? I performed the Outhouse Maneuver (you may be familiar, it's like a squat but your arms carry part of the weight by bracing between the toilet paper holder and the door handle). The portapotty was vibrating. VIBRATING! Like it was about to burst and spew forth! I'd be famous!

"Local Runner, 39, Swept Away in Toilet Tsunami" 

It didn't happen and I survived. That was fine, but there was no toilet paper OF COURSE so I had to sacrifice a glove (gloves are great for outhouse emergencies, wiping snot, etc. $1.50 for two pairs at Target! You're welcome).

You thought this was a running blog, not a pooping blog? I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding.

After miles 10-13, I decided This Isn't Fun Any More and thus began the battle between my body, my mind and my soul. It sucked. I started to slow my pace. At mile 20 I had a surprise pick me up when I saw my smoking hot husband on the sideline cheering for me. Yay! I hadn't expected that. I picked up the pace for about 50 yards and then...my calves cramped. I will spare you the description of each agony-filled mile, but let me tell you that getting stabbed with a kitchen knife hurts less than six miles of calf cramps (stab, stab, stab, stab, stab, every freaking step). I kept going because my watch said I could still hit my goal. There was something wrong with the finish line (it kept getting farther and farther away) so the last 1.2 miles were actually 452 miles long. And I ran them at an average 9:30 pace, WAY over my planned pace. And ran straight through the finish line to the medical tent.

Whatever, who cares, I finished in 3:55:57, and I never want to see a 4 at the front of my time again! YAY!

HUGE thank you to my mom (a friend of runners) and Amy (a friend and runner) who rubbed the cramps out of my calves and poured chocolate milk into my body, gallons at a time.

A massive thank you to the hundreds of volunteers and workers who made it such a great event. 

And a ginormous thank you to my family and friends who are so supportive and lovely to me all the time.

Next up is the Ragnar Del Sol relay in less than three weeks with my CHOLLA CHICKS! Woohoo!