What Was I Thinkin'?

A few months ago, I signed  up for the Ragnar Tennessee with 5 of my girlfriends. The Ragnar Relay series is a group of 200 mile races in various parts of the country that you run as a team (hence the relay part. You didn't know you were getting a vocabulary lesson too!).  The Tennessee version is from Chattanooga to Nashville.  It's a lot of fun if you can stand living in a van for at least 30 hours with stinky, sleep deprived runners being forever bound by getting each other through all the typical escapades of runners like poo-mergencies and snot rockets and of-course running day and night until your team crosses the finish line. It's never boring. At the Arizona (Del Sol) Ragnar in February, one of our teammates was accused by the spouse of leaving a worm in the toilet via #2 before leaving for the race. WHAT? Yeah babe, my crazy third world worm that I of-course actually have in the first place is now in the toilet. But the excitement and bonding doesn't end with just your team. You usually meet some interesting (and desperate) people in the porta potty lines too. You just can't buy closeness with a total stranger like that. So go sign up for a Ragnar. NOW.

Usually there are 12 people on a team. You may notice there are 6 of us. We are an ultra team. All the same requirements with half as many people. We each run twice as far. What was I thinkin'?

One thing true of all races is it feels good just to finish. And since I am running 36 miles in this race I had to make some preparations (i.e. months of training) in order to ensure that I finish. One such preparation is running two half marathons in the same day. I have to train myself to run on tired legs. What was I thinkin'?

What a coincidence! That training run was... today.  I woke up at 3:30, met my teammate Angie around 4am and got off to a great start. We were pressed for time so although we set out to run 13, we only ran 10. They were a strong 10, and we could have easily pushed out another 7. I went home feeling like a champ and went to church.

My second run, again scheduled for 13 miles, was at 4pm with Olivia. I had already started to feel tired. My legs hurt. Too many nights of 6ish hours of sleep were catching up with me. It was about to rain, and basically our loop course was "uphill the whole way". It was whine time. But nothing was stopping me from my goal. I grabbed my water and my Cliff Shot Bloks and off I went to conquer the world. Luckily I wore some hot pink Zenzah compression sleeves, and therefore my legs wouldn't get tired. HAHAHAHAHA. No.

We were trotting out the miles and I was kinda wishing my compression leg sleeves went thigh high. My quads hurt. I wonder if hot pink thigh high compression sleeves with short running shorts would make me look like a hooker? Nevermind.

We got to mile 5 and back to our water. I guzzled water - producing sounds sort of like a hippo. I also decided to take my Shot Bloks. It was early but they should give me a little more energy. And while we were stopped, I decided to take care of that sniffle I'd been struggling with by utilizing a running tool called the Snot Rocket. Plug one side of your nose, aim for the grass, and blow hard. The result was a fat, translucent, 4 inch long slug that crawled out of my nose and across my cheek - dangled for dear life for half a second, then fell to its death into the grass. Olivia turned away immediately and threw up in her mouth a little bit. Then she turned back to look at me and calmly said, "I love you Elle". I'm not a phychiatrist, but I'm not sure she meant it.

We were off again. Somewhere around mile 10.5, we veered AWAY from where we would have to go to get back to the car, which any true wilderness survivor would know is stupid, but runners constantly do in the interest of getting the prescribed amount of miles. After approximately 16 steps, I started to wonder if I could finish the run. I was suddenly and incurably FAMISHED. I started walking. Olivia asked what I needed, and I knew exactly how to answer because the smell of it, the sight of it, the feel of it, the taste of it was filling all my senses as if it were right in front of me - I needed a giant meatball. The ONLY thing I could think about was that giant meatball. Having it was like an intense fantasy. I must have seen one of these before. I know it's exact size and color (4 to 5 inches in diameter, juicy, a little red sauce around it). I knew exactly how it would feel in my hands. Silverware wasn't really part of my fantasy.

Either because I was obsessing over a giant meatball or because my eyes were actually twirling around in my head like those cartoon birds that get hit in the head with a hammer, Olivia let us turn around and go back toward the car. We finished our run at about 12 miles.

At the parking lot, my husband and little girl were waiting. We exchanged some words about something and made some agreement about what would happen next, all of which was completely lost on me as there was one thing on my mind. Meatball.

Even in my stupor, I recognized my own delirium, so I starting thinking of the fastest way to get any nourishment. I dug through my bag and found a glorious baggie of gummy fruit snacks of my daughter's. They were gone immediately. Somehow I remembered the gas station about half a mile down the road and went there. I couldn't honestly tell you what happened in there. There was some discussion from the clerk about my socks. I'm pretty sure I was just nodding and drooling. I got back to my car and examined my purchases - a personal sized bag of Funyuns, a bag of Spree tangy candy, and a package of jumbo chewy SweetTarts. What was I thinkin'? No really, what. was. I. thinking?

At the time, it didn't matter. I opened the Funyuns and ate every single one. I then ate half of each bag of the candies. OooooOOOOOooooo. My stomach was turning. I can tell you WITH CONFIDENCE that none of that was an acceptable substitute for a giant meatball.

But in the end, I ran 22 miles. This is no great feat for any other member of my team, but I feel like I achieved something. I am sleeping in tomorrow. And probably finding a giant meatball. But for now, goodnight.