Ragnar D.C. Race Report #2: Team Sarah Recap
The team captains were all fisticuffs along the course. (Not really; I just wanted to use the word fisticuffs.)
Ding, ding, ding…round two of the Ultimate Mother Runner Showdown is up today, recounting Ragnar Relay D.C. Team Sarah is on display, and these momma’s are going to knock you out. (Ha. I crack myself up.) (Team Dimity took the stage on Tuesday, in case you missed it.)
Team Sarah, decked out in sweet Saucony gear, is off to find their strong.
Once again, a huge shout out to all our partners who gear us up, fuel us strong, and keep us as happy and healthy as possible. Couldn’t do it without you all.
So the sign is a little dusty and dinged up—kind of how we were after Ragnar.
And we’re off again on another 190+-mile journey.
With a name that is pronounced “Sky,” Schuy starts Team Sarah off with a stellar run.
I kicked things off for Team Sarah, and my most memorable run was my first one; the excitement, the energy, and the support from teammates at the start of the race is unforgettable. After a pep talk from Nicole (who had been runner #1 in a different Ragnar Relay) and a warm-up jog with my pal Bethany, I was eager to get started! A sea of pink tutus, flailing arms, and loud cheers surrounded the sidelines to send me off onto a gorgeous 4.9-mile trail run around Lake Habeeb.
As I approached the last stretch of the run and was battling thoughts of wanting to walk—I had gone out too fast—I heard a wave of cheers from teammates as I came out of the trail. I was out of the woods, and could see everyone again. The cheers were just what I needed to give me the energy to charge through to the end of my leg, and I was ready to run strong for the next 30+ hours.
The view from the back seat of Ragnar. Bethany can run, stick out her tongue, carry her water, and point in which direction she’s going. All at the same time. We’re so proud.
I’m a girl who approaches life with a plan. And Ragnar was no exception.
Plan #1: Have fun.
Plan #2: Be present.
Plan #3: Kill it during my 2nd run. In the dark. On a road with no shoulder somewhere in Maryland.
At 9:30PM, with “Empire State of Mind” queued up, sweaty slap bracelet around my wrist, I took off. Time to kill it. Boom. Picked off one guy. Boom. Boom. Picked off a couple running side by side. The music built, and so did my momentum. It was all going according to plan. Yay, me! I’m killing it! [To remind you, a kill, in Ragnar-speak, is somebody who you passed on a run.]
Just ahead, I glimpsed the silhouettes of 3 broad shouldered men. Jackpot! As I approached them, I noticed their gaits were unlike mine. All 3 of them were on crutches. Three wounded veterans. Each of them missing a leg. 3 men. Younger than I. In the dark. On a road. With no shoulder. Somewhere in Maryland. Side by side. Killing it.
I tugged out my ear-buds, ditched my pace, and ran alongside them for a spell. They laughed at my tutu as I wrestled the lump in my throat long enough to thank them for their bravery.
Plans be damned.
The human spirit is full of awesome.
Jill the kind of girl who writes her own captions (love that!): Last leg of 3.2 miles, about 85 degrees and lots humidity, had 4 kills, stopped at two stoplights (darn it!), almost got hit by a car, had one 8:01 minute mile between lights = 27 minutes and a PR since I have never raced a 5K!
What a ride this life can be when first you practice to run free.
My roomie and vanmate, Nicole, and I had discussed running Ragnar as an ultra some time. Which sounds really great before the hill that seemed to go on forever. During it however, I felt like that was the dumbest idea ever and that I needed to be committed.
I didn’t know how I would keep the expected pace on this one. I went a little off course, but zipped back to take two kills on this endless climb. It was the battle I was looking for. It continued with steep gravel hills with clouded dust in the air, and this is where I found my mojo: a few moments to strut a walk up the slope, followed by quick downhill runs to make up time. As I approached the team doing a little dance, I started yelling, “Where is she?”
Sarah, the next runner, was busy and not in sight. She seemed to have popped out of nowhere just when I hit the exchange. I was 7 minutes under the predicted time.
Okay, Ultra Ragnar is sounding pretty good again. Who’s with me?
A finish line isn’t complete without a hot-pink boa, right? (Thanks to Schuy for that accessory.)
I’ve been racking my brains about a race vignette to share: Should I write about passing a barechested-save-for-his-reflective-vest dude as all his vanmates watched? Cheering for Terri (runner #6 on Team Sarah) on her final leg as she cruised through lovely Rock Creek Park? Giving myself “permission” to walk up a long, dusty ascent because the guy who’d passed me slowed to a walk?
No, instead I’ve realized all my favorite moments happened with my fantabulous, badass teammates at leg exchanges and in the van. As much as I love running (which is, you might have noticed, a lot!), relay races are social venues, not athletic ones, for me. My core got a better workout from laughing than from staying stable to push the pace. I love puns and jokes that get repeated over and over, and relay races are a ripe environment for jokes that can get beaten into the ground. Midday on Friday, as my vanmates and I guffawed at lines that would fall flat out of context, I said, “Just think how hilarious this will be at 2 a.m.!”
Sure enough, the laughter and jokes kept rolling along, just like our dusty, decorated van.
Nicole strikes a pose that pretty much sums up the Ultimate Mother Runner Showdown at Ragnar.
How Do I Love Thee Mother Runners? Let me count the ways…
How do I love thee Mother Runners? Let me count the ways.
I love thee with all my heart, you my sisters in sport
As far as my legs can run on dusty roads while white vans rumble by
For the laughter, support and passion that comes with running
In the dark of night with red blinking lights and Christmas lights on tutus.
I love thee as much as Cherry Limeade Nuun and tabouli salad made with care.
Most quiet need, by sun and headlamps.
I love thee freely, as tightly as my compression socks squeeze my calves.
I love thee purely, as that communal shower cleansed me.
I love thee as I pass that sweaty slap bracelet
And as my quads ache from tearing down those hills.
I love thee with a love and an appreciation for the generosity of spirit
That is shared among us as we ventured together,
Smiles, dance parties at the finish—and if our paths should cross again,
I shall but love thee better as an Ultra Team in Ragnars to come!
The ultimate organizer and safety officer, Terri ran like a champ, if champs run with their mouths wide open. (They do, don’t they?)
Ragnar from A to Z
AMR knows how to throw a party!
Bad Asses, every one of us.
Camaraderie of Team Sarah; great energies.
Dimity’s Team was so supportive!
Energized by Chomps and pompom action.
Friends, new and dear friends.
Great hand offs included burritos and tampons.
Heat index in the upper 90s°.
Ice in baggies from Team Sarah’s Van 1 all along Leg 30 saved me.
*Jokes of the inside kind.
Kissable kinetic kooky crushes.
Leg done? Check your box.*
Mary Poppins reading tarot on the high school lawn.
Never shower alone.
Obliques hurting from laughter.
Pat? NOT Pat.* 2 hours of sleep thanks to a woman sticking her face into my sleeping bag looking for “Pat.”
Quiet at Exchange 24 broken with cheers for other teams.
Rock Creek Park in the heat of the day.
South Mountain at 1AM, a million stars on a magical new moon night.
Texting Team Sarah’s Van 2 to keep in touch.
Unbridled dancing.
Vans in a line, taillights bobbing, clouds of dust.
Watch for the Womb Pink® tutu!
X-change 18, LED lights on my tutu and my name on the bull horn!
You’ve just been “CHICKED!”
Zapped hydration replenished by Nuun!
There is a lot of chatter about the hills in this post, and for good reason, as Renee illustrates what one mother of a hill in Western Maryland looked like.
As a runner the mantra “kill the hill” is a very familiar one. However, nothing could have prepared me for the massive Mountain o’ Hills that were Ragnar Leg 7. This leg was described as “very hard!” by the organizers. Quite frankly, I thought to myself hard is relative, I run in Atlanta, it is all good. Admittedly, I had fear and trepidation knowing I was in store for at least 4.5 miles of my 7.9-mile leg to be “hilly” but if I truly knew what I was up against, I probably would have been stressed daily until the race.
In addition to the terrain, the weather did not cooperate. “The high will be in the upper 80s with a heat index of 99 degrees and 100% humidity,” wrote the Ragnar staff in a text to all teams, “Someone is going to the hospital. Hydrate. Don’t let it be you!” I drank Nuun and water and filled my Ultimate Direction water bottle with ice.
What followed were the hardest 7.9 miles of my life. I prayed, I cussed, I ran, and I walked. When it was all said and done, I killed every hill; for me, a kill means completing it. Plus, I had the best race support a girl could ask for! At pit stops my teammates sprayed me with water, put ice down my back, and lied to me about being “almost to the top.” Thanks for all the help, ladies!
Fancy Nancy, ready to head out after Renee finished her hillacious leg.
Here’s what I was thinking during my Leg #1:
“What strange and wonderful opportunities running has given me, because right now I’m climbing a 1000+ ft mountain, in a sports bra, in 89+ degree weather, as a part of a team, all while wearing a hot pink tutu. This is awesome.”
Here’s what I was thinking during my Leg #2:
“Is this really ME running at 2:30 AM? Wow, it’s also really, really dark. Hmm, running really is easier when it’s not hotter than Hades. This is kinda cool! (*almost trips) OMG, pick up your darn feet, Nancy. (hears rustling) Please let that be just a deer. OK, am I done yet?”
Here’s what I was thinking during my Leg #3:
“Running with Renee fun glad to double up sun is frying my soul don’t think just run don’t think just run why is leg finishing on uphill is this really only 2.2 miles feels like 22 for the love of pete make it stop”
Here’s what I thought when I crossed the finish line with all of Team Sarah:
That was freaking awesome. We are such badasses. I am so doing this again someday.
Checking off legs, tallying kills: Rebecca shows us how it’s done. (Alternate caption if this was van 1: “Rebecca checking her box.” Yeah, you read it right: That joke never got old for pervy van 1 gals.)
Ragnar Top Ten Do + Don’t List
10. Do follow Dimity’s packing list to a T (T is for tutu!)
9. Do want it! The first run for van 2 started with a 4.5 mile steep climb in the sun. And it went downhill (and uphill) from there.
8. Do bring your compassion. I loved that our team really thought about the needs of each runner as their turn came. It made the focus so positive!
7. Don’t do this with strangers; we barely knew each other, but we were BAMRs, and that meant a lot. Without a strong connection, it seemed like it could all go south in a hurry.
6. Don’t bring your kids; it is demoralizing for others to be passed by a twelve-year-old in the middle of the night.
5. Always put “Badass” in your team name. People loved our van!
4. Do count your kills: 18 runners passed for me!
3. Or don’t count your kills- whichever is going to be more fun for you!
2. Do put the multitasking Ragnar medal in your utensil drawer and use it to open all of your bottles from here on out.
1. Do know things will go wrong, and it will still be fun.
Iliana recounting her trail leg with as much energy and enthusiasm as she gave the actual running. She gets the badass bravery award.
My second leg on Ragnar: the infamous Leg #23 that is described as a 9.6 VERY HARD trail run goes through a state park and includes a mountain climb in the dark. I started having nightmares and panic attacks about this leg. I dreamed of getting lost, not finishing, and disappointing the team. I went through anger, then denial, and finally, acceptance that I would do this no matter what.
My teammate Rebecca showed true team spirit and paced me for the first 3 miles. We ran and chatted together for a little while until we arrived to the entrance to the mountain. Our van picked her up, then, it was all me… the darkness of an unknown trail, the sounds of the forest. All I could see was whatever my headlamp and Knuckle Lights showed me. Far away, I could see small lights of runners ahead of me getting farther and farther away. Climb after climb, my anxiety continued to rise, until I met my team van again at mile 5. I saw my teammates, and I could see they were afraid for me. I saw that they thought I would not be able to make it.
That is when I knew I had it. I could and would do this. I reassured them I would be OK and took off into the dark again. I embraced my run, my struggle and ran in the moment. I reflected and was thankful for being lucky enough to be here at this exact moment, doing what I was doing. I had been chosen to participate in the adventure of a lifetime…my thoughts drove me to complete the hardest climb on the leg and as I reached the top, the sun came out and the horizon was filled with light. From the top of the mountain, I could see the valley below, the farms, the mountains surrounding me.
Michelle, displaying her temporary home—and mountains of crap—for the next 30+ hours.
Barely awake for my 6.7 mile “Children of the Corn” rural farmland leg
Awesome team support; especially from those in Team Sarah, Van 2
Did someone say “It will be fun?”
Applause and cowbells at every exchange
Sleep-deprivation makes everything humorous
Scared of running alone in the dark – fear conquered!
Mountains of crap in the van (food, clothes, sleeping bags, water, ice, coolers, etc.)
Out of your comfort zone and loving every minute of it!
Tutu: I may never run another race without one.
Hills: Cumberland, Maryland has a different definition than this flatlander.
Establishing new friendships that will last a lifetime.
Relay racing is a fun and new twist to the mostly solitary sport of running.
Roaring siren while “resting” at Exchange 18 that scared us all into a state of panic!
Ultra teams are “super cool.”
Nuun – don’t leave home without it – see above.
Ninety plus degrees in the daytime = not ideal running conditions for this northern girl
Eating junk food to fuel your runs while in a van for 24+ hours is a necessity.
Ragnar volunteers and race organization were the best I’ve experienced.
Sorry that it had to end and looking forward to the next grand adventure!
Lorraine ringing the bell, but where’s the cow?
I’ve run in a tutu before, but never in the dark. Up a hill. A REALLY long, steep hill. With cows cheering me on. Yes, cows. Not bells. There was a moment during my first leg around 8 p.m. when I paused my iPhone and heard a loud, deep “moo,” calling to me in the very near distance.
Well, that’s one way to get me to PR.
Seriously, not only did I crank up my music—and my pace—I don’t think I took my headphones off again until I passed that slap bracelet to my badass teammate Schuy. That was the beginning of the 21.1 miles I would conquer at Ragnar; and it was amazing.
I did things during those 30+ hours that I would normally never do. At home, I don’t like to walk downstairs to get a glass of water in the dark, so running through unfamiliar, rural roads with cows following me was definitely a huge step outside my comfort zone. Huge. What made it even sweeter was to experience it with my BRF, Renee, and all of the extraordinary mamas on Team Sarah and Team Dimity. It’s amazing how 25 women can come together and bond so quickly as if we’ve known each other for years. I’ll never forget the awesomeness of this weekend: the camaraderie, the laughter, the accomplishments, and the cows.
Can’t forget the cows.
Ragnar DC Race Report: Team Dimity Recap
The First Annual Ultimate Mother Runner Showdown is complete—and what a showdown it was. We could all write a race report as long as the 199, hot, humid miles we ran in the Ragnar Relay from Cumberland, MD to the National Harbor in Washington D.C., but that’s a little ambitious. (And truth be told, we didn’t run 199 miles since 3 legs had to be canceled because of the government shut-down. But we didn’t lose sleep over lost miles; given the 90+ degree temps, we definitely ran far enough.)
13 mother runners full of great memories and sore legs–and about to return to requests for string cheese, help with homework, and lots of hugs.
Instead, we had each runner write a little bit about her Ragnar experience. Here’s Team Dimity’s. Team Sarah’s recap will be up on Thursday, and a video will be up sometime next week. (And to answer the question a few of you might have: Yes, we are 99% sure we’ll do this contest again next year, so stay tuned.)
Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Before we launch into the race, though, we have to give a huge shout-out to our partners who geared all of us up so well so we could train properly and then kick badass during the race: Saucony generously outfitted us with Kinvara Short Sleeve Shirts, Ignite Tight Capris, and Mirage 3 Shoes; 110% squeezed us with Flat Out Socks; Sof Sole supported our soles with Fit Insoles; Ultimate Direction provided sweet Fastdraw handheld bottles and Nuun capably filled them; Knuckle Lights lit our way; Hyland’s got us all to be Calms Forte converts; fathers, mothers, and kiddos went NuttZo for NuttZo (and then the mother runners smartly hid the jars…); GU, LARABAR, and Team Refuel’s low-fat chocolate milk fueled us through the miles; and SkinFare soothed our skin when all was said and done. Oh, and Tough Girl Tutus inspired our best motto yet: Fear the Tutu.
Thank you, thank you for supporting all of us mother runners. We all reached the starting line—and finish line—thanks, in large part, to your support and excellent products. Very grateful.
Onto the show.
With a name that captures her indomitable spirit, Freedom kicks off Ragnar DC for Team Dimity.
My favorite leg to run was leg one. It was our first daughter’s birthday on 10/4; we lost her 13 years ago. Funny to think if she never lost her battle with Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, I would have never been a part of The Another Mother Runner Ragnar Team; my life would have gone down a different trail. So maybe life has it way of truly making things happen for a reason.
Leg one was a trail run through the woods and around a gorgeous lake. Full of emotion, I was ready to tear it up like never before. I went out too fast…faster than I would normally, but I know it was from all the excitement I had been holding in over the past few months leading up to this race.
I was jumping over rocks and cruising on paths going up and down hills and zigzagging left and right to keep from falling. I had to use my hands on the trees to keep upright while running up the rocky-rooty-crazy path. I loved it! I felt free and alive!
After a few miles, the pack broke up so we were not all over each other. I started to hear a person coming up behind me, but he never made a move to pass. I looked back once and said, “Let me know if you want to pass and I’ll move over,” but it never happened. What a feeling: here I am, a mom of 5 dressed in a tutu, and I’m faster than this man! I had one of those holy-sh&%!-I’m-really-doing-this moments. He was a nice guy and told me to watch it four time; my excitement was getting the best of me. Thank you large upright trees for catching me! I tallied five kills—Ragnar-speak for people you pass—to kick us off.
Despite having a tough night leg, Krista did not slow down. “I did not fly across the country to walk,” she told Karyn who was running with her. That’s Krista—a smiley, strong sparkplug—in a nutshell.
Everyone should Ragnar! Great friends, some running, and lots of laughter. The first leg I ran up a hill I didn’t know existed in Maryland! I climbed for 2.3 steep miles and then coasted downhill for 4 miles. My second leg was 4.5 miles in the dark of night. I ran with Karyn (my newest running friend), who helped me through a mentally tough patch. Because of her support I was able to kill (pass) 10 people. See ya! Before I started my third leg, I was tired, my legs hurt, and I chugged a Starbucks mocha. I set off for 2.8 miles, and ended up running them at 8:16 pace, about 2 minutes per mile faster than I thought I would be. I finished BAMR strong! During the whole race, I totaled 14 kills and was only killed by 6 men. I can say I gave everything I had in each leg and I am very proud of myself. I feel like a true BAMR now!
I don’t love hills, but how can you not just be thrilled—especially at the end—with a run like this?
I’ll be honest: pulling our first Ragnar contest together was kind of like my first run this weekend, which had 1,200 feet of climbing over 7.8 miles: challenging, a little nerve-wracking, pretty exhausting, but in the end, oh-so-worth-it. Our journey together confirms what I pretty much have known all along: Mother runners are funny, motivated, hard-working, smart women who get the job done with a smile on their faces. And I pretty much just love that spirit.
We had a few challenges—it wouldn’t be Ragnar without them—but those speed bumps (sick bellies, pounding headaches, a few navigational issues, hot weather that just wouldn’t relent) just cemented the friendships we made along the way.
Everybody who ran that first climb-a-licious run got a belt buckle at the end for the effort. A nice touch, but a hunk of medal is nothing compared to seeing mother runners push themselves miles out of their comfort zones, cheer crazy loud and shed tears for each other, and connect with each other in a way we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.
Thank you all for playing along with Sarah and me.
Joan, in the middle of her first run, making the “R” for B-A-M-R. She’s talented like that.
My Ragnar was so special, I didn’t want to rush any of it, even the long dusty hills. One of the moments that stands out for me is when I was taking off on my first run, just after I received the slap bracelet from Dimity. I was excited to run, and I saw and heard my teammates cheering me on. I truly felt their support and excitement for me, and I just knew it was as genuine as the support and excitement I gave to them as they started to run.
More memorable moments happened when the BAMRs drove by and cheered me on—even if I was squatting in the cornfield with my lights flashing at the time. [Editorial from Dimity: many of the night legs were running past very high cornfields. Schuy, from Team Sarah, brought a bounty of blinky things for us to wear, and Joan was done up like Lady Gaga. We drove by as she was emptying her bladder, and all we could see was a rainbow of lights blinking against the stalks. One of those at-Ragnar-only moments.]
It was just a weekend full of support, genuine enjoyment and appreciation of the experience. Catching up on sleep will take time, but it was so worth it. The best word I can use to describe it is magical. I am eternally grateful that I was able to be a part of this experience. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Laura F was so speedy and sly, we almost missed her coming into transition. Twice.
Pockets of cool mountain air hit my face. Entire constellations lit the sky. My watch read 10:30 PM, and I was chasing a flashing red light on my second Ragnar leg: 7.3 miles through the rolling hills of rural Maryland. My legs felt surprisingly fresh from my earlier 4-mile climb and descent. My footing was confident, the hills were conquerable, and I knew I was wearing a ridiculously goofy smile. I was truly and totally happy.
Let me be honest. When else does a frazzled homeschooling mom of three get an experience like this? No kids. No laundry or dishes. No responsibilities for anyone other than me. The entire weekend was truly a gift. It started with a good night’s sleep in a clean bed that I didn’t have to make. It included the company of 12 teammates whose idea of a vacation also included running nearly 200 miles without a shower. It provided me with an opportunity to be competitive in a positive way. And it didn’t feel selfish or indulgent at all.
So how did the rest of my second leg turn out? Incredible. I killed 14 runners, nailed an 8:34 pace in the dark, and checked off another box on my running bucket list.
Jill had a few issues—GI tract and going 1.5 extra miles during a (super hot, humid) 8.9-mile last leg—but she was a total trooper.
10 things I learned at Ragnar…
1. People spend as much time on their costumes, creating a team name, and decorating their van as training for the race.
2. Wearing a tutu for 200 miles makes you really popular. People LOVE to cheer on a runner in a tutu.
3. Running in your sports bra is a fantastic idea when it is 90 degrees and humid.
4. You can get away with peeing in a corn field at midnight…unless you are wearing blinking jewelry and a flashing tail light.
5. Just because someone runs really fast and passes you doesn’t mean they know the course or where the finish line is. Follow your map!
6. Candy and coffee are not food groups, and should not be your sole source of nutrition over 30 hours.
7. Don’t forget to pack the Imodium.
8. If you are running near where the Blair Witch was filmed …. alone….. with no other runner in sight for 3.5 miles…. at midnight…..think happy thoughts. It’s only a movie, right?
9. Your teammates will always park at the exact place you told yourself you could take a walk break ‘if I just make it to the top of the hill’. You won’t want to disappoint your team, so you keep on running strong right through that walk break, and then are so grateful for their encouragement when you hit awesome splits.
10. No matter what your speed or how many ‘kills’ (people you pass on the course), your teammates will always be at the end to cheer you on and give you a high five. (Unless your van was busy taking pictures of the scenery along the course and you finished before we got there… sorry about that Laura!)
The alternate mother runner in Team Dimity Van 1, Karyn was invaluable: not only did she know her way around the DC area, she also let us sleep in her basement (Ragnar luxury!) and took on 14.5 miles in the middle of the night. Total team player.
As the alternate, my take is a bit different. Going into this trip, I knew that it wasn’t going to be about the running for me. Don’t get me wrong: I love to run, but this journey was about something different.
There were those who asked me, “Are you going to be ok with this? You know- the not running bit?” but I always had the same answer: Yes!
Yes, because this experience was like the chapter I had to finish, like the book I just can’t put down until it’s done. Yes, because I had already begun to get a sense of ‘who’ all of these women were so I knew I had to see this through. And yes, because I knew it was going to be incredible journey. Just absolutely yes.
I now have 25 new friends who are all amazing, strong women who have inspired me as I watched them climb mountains. We laughed, cheered, swapped stories and gained a greater understanding of each other. And I did get to run. Ragnar allows pacers during the evening legs, so I accompanied Krista, who was so determined to make every run count; Dimity who runs much faster then she lets on (Dimity adds: it helps to be at sea level) ; and Joan who always ran with a smile. I got in a total of very dark, very awesome 14.5 miles!
Funny thing is though, I don’t feel like this book is done yet. I have a feeling that we may have more chapters to add in the future….and I can’t wait!
Nikki (in visor) and Joan sharing a laugh, as Joan tells Nikki about her favorite runner from another team: a runner from the Little Chocolate Donut Track club. (By the end, we got some chocolate donuts out of them.)
As I process the Ragnar experience, I am also attempting to burn the moments into my memory. I often find myself recapping my first run, leg #7.
Temps were in the 80’s as I anxiously watched for Jill, my teammate who would hand off to me. Team Sarah came through the exchange and I watched as Renee, her runner #7, tackled the first hill. Several minutes later Jill ran in, and after a quick ‘hello’ and a slap bracelet hand-off I was headed uphill as well. I took the uphills with patience and used any flat or downhill to recover for the next uphill. The heat was brutal and within a few miles I had passed 2 runners.
Next up: Team Sarah! I spotted Renee’s tutu as I was climbing yet another hill and I had new motivation. The rolling hills continued and I claimed two more kills. 7.9 miles, 5 kills, and 1,079 ft of climbing later, I ran through the exchange and passed the slap bracelet off to Angela. As I chatted with the rest of my teammates I got a few high-5’s and compliments from (male!) runners who had driven past me on the course.
Tackling those hills, taking over Team Sarah, and seeing my teammates at the end brought a huge smile to my Badass Mother Ragnar Runner face; the random compliments just made me beam brighter!
Angela found plenty of time at Ragnar to blow bubbles—and tag other vans.
Barreling down the highway in a van decorated with caution tape and the words “Kills” and “Fear the Tutu” written on the side is something I never imagined I would do, which is why it is impossible to summarize my Ragnar experience. So I will just share one of my favorite memories. I took the lead on tagging the other vans at the exchange points. I think I probably tagged about 60 vans over the two days. Having never grafittied anything before, it was thrilling! I got really fast at making the BAMRR “logo” because you had to do it without anyone seeing. It pumped me up and was strangely satisfying to see the vans pass with our tag on them as I ran. Watch out, neighbors: I think Ragnar may have corrupted me!
Laura LJ kicks ass in so many ways.
Running at 2:30a.m. (in a tutu, mind you) on no sleep with nothing but the hills, the stars, and cows to keep me company offer a strange clarity. I actually liked being outside my comfort zone. I liked it A.L.O.T.
I lost a lot of sleep somewhere between Cumberland, MD and the National Harbor but found something way more important: I can truly conquer anything that running and life put in front of me. This picture shows me finishing up my blazingly hot first leg, crushing my projected pace, and what inspired the classic “LJ” line “15 kills Mother F’krs!” (Except that I said it fully—loud and proud—when I reached the transition point. Because that’s how Ragnar does to a mother runner.)
Meryl almost lost the slap bracelet—and her tutu.
Three in the morning, no sleep—except for about an hour in a sleeping bag in a corn field—my second leg was 3.5 miles along a country road through fields of soybeans and a sky of stars. It’s my favorite way to run: just me and my feet and my breath. I was soaking in the moment, and was a little sad when I saw the exchange coming up.
But that was nothing compared to my panic a few minutes later.
I looked down at my wrist to grab the slap bracelet “baton” to hand to our next runner and it was gone! “Oh s**t!” I shouted. “I lost the bracelet, what do we do?!” My mind jumped to the worst, with visions of the whole team being disqualified, all because I had been daydreaming in the dark. I frantically began looking around and patting down my tutu.
“It’s on your arm! It’s on your arm!” a teammate yelled. I looked at my bicep in relief. I had gotten hot and pushed up my long-sleeve shirt, and, with it, the bracelet. With huge relief, I passed the bracelet to our next runner and laughed with my teammates as we headed out to our next stop.
Aimee models a Ragnar Fashion Don’t: jorts under a tutu. Fortunately, the speed demon knew enough to replace them with Lycra before her runs.
Team Dimity Van 2 Ragnar Stats
90.8: total miles run
40.8: miles run in the dark
8133: total feet of elevation gain
78: total kills
1: “killed” bride
over 100: visits to the port-o-john
12: unshaven legs
13: muscles in the leg
78: sore muscles in our legs
2: sightings of “Speedo Guy”
4: legs affected by the government shutdown
60+: BAMRR tags by Angela
1: tutu eaten by a pony
30+: Nuun tablets consumed
1: awesome slogan: “Fear the Tutu”
1,000+: rings of pink cowbells
5 or so: stink bugs hitching rides in the van
92: degrees of final leg into National Harbor
2: creepy history podcasts, including one about Edgar Allen Poe, listened to during my 4am mountain leg
11: sweaty pieces of my clothing stuffed in a ziplock
50: minutes of me lying in a cow pasture, unable to fall asleep
about 2: total hours of sleep for me
3: times I got lost driving the van
2: naked van clothing changes
It’s 90+ degrees, she still has one more run to do, and Janelle, predictably, is all smiles.
If you give a mom a running weekend away and she gets chosen to run a Ragnar Relay with other badass mother runners, she’ll decide to be runner 12. When she decides to be runner 12, she’ll have to train extra hard to run 21 miles over 30 hours.
Then she’ll fly off to DC for 5 days away.
Once she’s there she’ll meet 27 other badass mother runners from around the country.
She’ll be awed by their talents and creativity on and off the running trails.
When she wakes early Friday morning in Cumberland, MD, she’ll realize how excited she is for the upcoming adventure. Then she’ll put on her Tough Girl Tutu, 110% Flat Out Compresssion socks, Ultimate Direction water bottle, Saucony Mirage 3 shoes, Team Refuel visor and help decorate the van.
Her kids will message her the hairstyle daddy helped them with for school.
She’ll have to wait until 6pm to run her first leg: 7.4 miles.
She’ll be off for an awesome hill, running from dusk to dark, and get in to see her teammates blinking and glowing from afar.
She’ll channel her ‘inner Nikki’ and love the hill, bouncing and smiling her way up.
She’ll also say goodnight to her family as she heads dinner and rest until her van begins to run again at 1:30 a.m. (She will have slept only about 40 minutes so far.)
She’ll drive for several hours through night cheering her teammates as they make their way through rural Maryland.
Then she’ll get ready for her 9.6 miles that she’ll start in the dark and run through a beautiful sunrise.
When running in the pitch dark, she’ll come eye-to-eye with deer.
When he moves to a field, she’ll be extra jumpy so when 4 fast runners and 5 vans ass her on a dark narrow road, she’ll do a spectacular Superman flying fall.
Seeing blood on her hand, she’ll know she has to finish the last 5 miles—just any badass mother would—and also be careful not get blood on her tutu.
She’ll have some great battle wounds to always remember Ragnar.
She’ll get to run the last leg with teammate Aimee. Up and over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge they’ll bring this incredible adventure of a lifetime to close.
When the race is over, she’ll decide she needs a mom’s running weekend away every year— and that all badass mothers need to do the same!
The Most Important Mile of my Life: Lisa Payne Kirker
Race organizers and BRFs Lisa Kirker and Amy TenBrink.
Mother runner Lisa Payne Kirker shares her most important mile, which took place a couple of years ago on a late-fall holiday in her small Michigan town.
The most important mile of my life was mile one of our first annual Marshville “Dam Pie” 5K race on Thursday, Nov. 24, 2011. A few weeks before, my neighbor and BRF Amy TenBrink and I decided to put together a small Thanksgiving morning turkey trot around our country block. We wanted to get in some girl time and burn a few calories before the chaos of the holiday began. We thought we might get 10 of our friends and neighbors to show up and run with us. We were wrong. That first year we had more than 60 participants; walkers, runners, and children riding bikes while their parents ran. Last year…82! (We live in a community of less than 500 people.)
I will always remember that first mile. I was on such a high already after watching all of these people line up in my driveway, on a cold Thanksgiving morning, to run around my block. As we ran as a group, I chatted with strangers, introducing myself and thanking them for coming, and laughed with my friends – shocked that our little run turned into something so big.
“There are so many miles in my life that rank up there, but I’d have to say that the first mile of the Thanksgiving morning race that I host each year with my BRF is by far the best.”
For the past two years, the high from the those miles lasts all day. It seems like such an amazing gift for Amy and me. Not only do we get to run on a crisp, Michigan morning, but we get to run with almost 100 other people – sharing our love of running, as well as some healthy snacks and a few glasses of champagne afterwards. Truly, it’s one of my favorite days of the year, and my favorite miles of the year as well.
What was (or will be) the most important mile of your life? We want to know.
We’re going to make this an ongoing feature on the website (and potentially include some important miles in our yet-to-be-named third book, out in spring of 2015). Best way to submit is to email us your story with a picture: runmother {at} gmail {dot} com with “Most Important Mile” in the subject line. Please try to keep your mile stories under 300 words. Thank you!