Live Ultimate (Santa Monica, CA) - 6.2 miles
Ragnar Del Sol (Wittenburg, AZ - Tempe, AZ) - 4.6 miles, 5.7 miles, 5.5 miles
With the first month of my running challenge complete, I entered February with excited anticipation. February meant that in addition to checking off the second month of my goal, it was time to tackle what seemed like the craziest of my runs: a Ragnar Relay. But before Ragnar began, I had another finish line to cross.
In an effort to train for Ragnar, I registered for the Live Ultimate Run in Santa Monica. We gathered at the start line by the ocean and when the buzzer sounded, we were off. The course was fairly similar to the Christmas Run we had done in December, so with every bend in the road and slope of the course, I had an idea of what to expect. This gave my mind time to wander. I kept wondering where the name Live Ultimate came from, thinking that the first word was līv as in "this taping is live." What I now know is that the word is actually lĭv, as in the opposite of die. The idea behind the race series is to promote living your best life being passionate about health, balance and well-being. As I crossed the finish line, I was doing just that.
Usually as the end of February nears, I am busy wondering how I will spend my birthday and what turning a year older will mean. This year, I had an even bigger task to ponder: participating in my first Ragnar Relay. I had first heard of Ragnar the previous fall when AJ and Anthony completed the Ragnar Napa Valley. When they returned, they immediately said, "We have to do this!" Anthony had already discovered that the Del Sol race was over our birthday weekend and both were convinced this is how we should celebrate. I wasn't so sure. Single races were one thing. Creating a team of 12, sleeping in vans and running three legs over the course of 34 hours seemed like an insurmountable task. At that time, I hadn't even run my first half marathon; how did we know I'd be able to do a Ragnar? But fueled by a new confidence and knowing that I had the support of amazing friends (and truthfully excited for something to plan!), I agreed.
Creating a team. Reserving vans. Understanding the rules. There was so much to do. But if I was going on a crazy running adventure, the first thing I was sure of is that I wanted my brother by my side. Fortunately, he's never one to turn down a good time (and maybe more fortunately, this actually sounded like a good time to him), he was easy to convince. Quickly, the team fell in place, and I had fun creating a blog to keep us informed each step of the way.
It's hard to fully explain how much fun it is to do a Ragnar because every detail you share just makes it sound more and more crazy. Sleeping in a van. Running three times in 34 hours, including in the middle of the night. Not showering. Sharing a sweaty slap bracelet. And you have to pay to do it?!?! What could be more appealing? And as I took off on my first leg, I still wasn't sure what I had gotten myself into. Unlike other races, this isn't just about me. If I needed to walk, it meant holding up our next runner. If I was grumpy or tired, there was no where to hide but the next row of the van. This was a true blend of individual and team effort. But as I was chugging along that first leg, and I turned the corner to see my van and teammates cheering me on, my heart swelled with love. It gave me energy. And when I got to the exchange where I got to pass the slap bracelet on to Elyse - Elyse, with whom I had come so far - from supervisor/supervisee to friends to family; from Massachusetts to California; from two girls from Jersey unsure of their worth in the world to two women in California learning just how great we are. As I slapped the bracelet on her wrist (and slapped her ass for good measure), off she went! And the first person standing there to congratulate me was my brother. The kid who spent his childhood teasing and tormenting me. The kid who I often told that the reason mom and dad didn't have a third kid was because they had perfection, tried again and got him. The kid who became the guy of whom I was most protective. The guy who became the man who is one of my greatest friends. There he was to give me a big hug and kiss. I never felt so full of pride.
Hours later, the entire team stood at the finish line waiting for our 12th and final runner: Steffie. As she turned the corner to come over the bridge, less than half a mile from where we were waiting for her, I broke into a smile thinking about how lucky I was to be running not only with my brother, but with one of my cousins. Steffie and I are far enough apart in age that growing up, we didn't spend a lot of time with each other. I was working at UMass full-time before she and I even had our first Briana/Steffie-only memory. I had driven up to Vermont to join the family for a weekend, and finding ourselves stuck at the top of a mountain with over an hour wait to take the tram back down, somehow Steffie convinced me to hike down with her. I was in flip flops; she was in fashion sneakers. Neither of us were truly prepared for the adventure. In a true Steffie stroke of genius, she decided our best effort was to each wear one sneaker so that we had proper traction on the way down. And each time one of us slipped or slid down part of the mountain, we laughed that we ever thought those shoes had any traction whatsoever. And when we made it to the bottom, I remember thinking that this was the first time I had ever spent any alone time with her. And now here we were, ten years later, both living in California and having already piled up many memories that were just ours. And we were more than cousins, we were friends. The team formed a tunnel for her to run through before we followed her over the finish line, and again I was overwhelmed by the love. How lucky was I to be able to share this memory with so many people I loved? We spent that night celebrating with food, drinks, laughter and games. We shared all of the new memories we had made along the way: the kills, the spills, the songs, the legs, the sounds that haunted our night runs, the moments we thought we might not finish. We were already planning when we could Ragnar again.
