Ragnar Great River 2013: My Ultra Learnings

As you can probably tell from the title, I ran another Ragnar this weekend.  I have always wanted to do the Great River edition of Ragnar, simply because it is relatively close to my house and it is a Ragnar.

But I never really expected to do it as a part of an ultra team.

If you don't know how a Ragnar ultra team works, here's the low-down in a numbered list because numbered lists are the shiznitz: (Bulleted lists are better, but I'm doing this through the Blogger app on my iPad right now, which doesn't allow me to do that.  Jerks.)

1. You have 6 runners instead of 12

2. You all ride in one van

3. You run 6 times instead of three

4. You have to be asked to do this right after you have run a regular 12-person Ragnar because you are still on a high from that and will say yes to anything involving the word "Ragnar."

I wanted to give you the low down of all six of my runs in this post, but I would also like to keep the 5 or fewer readers I already have.  Therefore, I will boldly use the numbered-list blogging technique twice in one post and just share with you my ultra-good learnings from my ultra Ragnar experience:

1. An equation: (6 runners + 6 runs each) = THE STENCH THAT CANNOT BE QUANTIFIED.

2. Another equation: THE STENCH THAT CANNOT BE QUANTIFIED + 6 dirty running outfits + 2 days in plastic bags = ONE STENCH TO RULE THEM ALL.  The hubbs accidentally wandered into the laundry room when I had all 6 stinky running outfits jammed into the confined space of the washing machine tumbler.  He left that room a changed man, and not for the better.

3. After the 4th run, your legs are no longer speaking to you.  During the 6th run, if you listen carefully, you can hear some talk of secession from your body.

4. You can do more than you think you can.  The 5th and 6th runs are purely mental.  You do what you can to make it to the next exchange.  My 5th run trick was convincing myself that 6 miles really wasn't that far.  My 6th run trick was actually walking for a minute and then running half a mile, and then repeating that over and over again.

5. "You should have pooped when you had the chance."  Wiser words were never spoken at a Ragnar.  Let's just say the last 4 miles of my 6th run were spent literally sucking it up from an opening other than my mouth. 

6. Ultra runners are a calm bunch.  No drama, no whining.  Everyone got out there and got it done.

7. As one of my teammates (Heidi) pointed out, on an ultra team you get to see the entire course. 

8. Maximize your nonrunning time with rest.  Everyone ran as two different runners, so you really had to use your time wisely between runs.  There were about 3-4 hours of rest in-between each run, so you had to make sure to get some shut-eye.  We determined that you could stay awake for at least one runner after you, but after that you slept until it was almost your turn again.  This is why I only have pictures of my teammate Mike (the runner after me) instead of everyone this time.

9. You can take an entire shower in a sink if you want to.  Well, you pretty much have to because there  is NO time to take advantage of any showers offered at exchanges-your ass (and your van) must get to each exchange pronto.  

10. The green ultra bib garners instant respect and Ragnar street cred.

As you can see, I learned a lot, and had a blast. I met and ran with some fantastic people, and I would do an ultra again in a heartbeat (maybe not Great River...my quads are speaking to me now, but they are screaming at me about all those hills).  

At least I have my shiny medal to comfort me.  It even says "ultra runner" on the thingie that helps hang it on your neck:

And a bonus: I got my double medal for doing Chicago & Great River in the same year.

It's making for quite the medal collection.  

Too bad I won't be able to get any more until next summer. Can't wait for Ragnar Chicago to roll around so I can get my relay run on.

Ragnar Wasatch Back 2013: Holy crap. Mountains.

Workout: Monday-15 miles on the bike (55:52)  followed by 20 minutes of upper-body weights and 10 minutes of abs.  Tuesday-6 x 800m repeats on the treadmill (unfortunately).

Those workouts above are pretty damn good, I think, for a woman who ran in the mountains this past weekend.

Yes, kiddos, I got the great privilege to be a part of another fantastic Ragnar team through Digital Running.  This time we trekked up into the mountains for the 10th anniversary edition of Ragnar Relay Wasatch Back.

Team Great Salt Ache, #241

Now, this Midwestern girl really didn't know what she was getting herself into.  When I signed up for this relay, all I heard was "Ragnar" and "Relay" and "10th anniversary" and "really cool finisher medal."  For some reason my geographical knowledge didn't kick in at the time and realize that we would be in the mountains.  You know, where you have to run up way up high and stuff?

Well that crucial bit of knowledge kicked in on the plane when we started our descent into Salt Lake City.  I saw the Wasatch Mountains from the plane's window and promptly began to have an internal freakout:

"THIS JUST GOT REAL...I HAVE TO RUN UP AND DOWN THOSE THINGS."

And then I wondered if I could catch a flight home as soon as I got off the plane.  I think this is only a natural gut-level response from someone who comes from an elevation of about 870 feet above sea level.

But the more rational part of me prevailed, and I got off the plane and made it through the airport to meet the rest of the team.  After a snafu with the vans that resulted in us having to rent SUVs from another company, we were off to our usual WalMart run and then to the hotel to grab some dinner and catch some sleep before our mountainous adventure began.

Dinnah with our awesome team.

The next morning our adventure began at Utah State University in Logan, UT at 5 AM:

Most people might consider a 5 AM start time a little insane, but we came to cherish this later in the race when we were always arriving at exchanges before everyone else and leaving just as the vans started to pour in.  We managed some pictures in the dark at the starting line, and then we were off to trudge run like gazelles survive running in the Wasatch Mountains.

I was runner number 9, which meant I was in Van #2 again (I'm a Van #1 virgin).  I rather enjoy being in Van 2, because you get to ease into the relay by having time to go to breakfast and get to the first major exchange early.  However, you do get all jazzed up waiting for your turn to run, so by the time your first leg comes, you start getting the "I have to pee a zillion times" and the "Why am I hungry all of a sudden standing in the chute" crazy nervousness happening that only goes away after you finally hit the road running.

You also get nervous before running the Wasatch Back when you seeing sights like this while driving to your first exchange:

Holy crap.  Mountains. I had no idea how I would run at this altitude, but I quickly found out on my first leg. But we had tons of time to wait at our first exchange, so, of course, we took pictures:

Those are band-aids on my face.  This made for some sweet tan lines later.

Pro-compression Ragnar socks!

I know you are jealous of our Ragnar orange skirts.  We certainly were dressed to impress.  I just thought that if I was going to suffer in the mountains, I was going to look good doing it.  Speaking of suffering, let's talk about my legs, shall we?


Leg #1: 3.2 miles

This leg was labelled as "easy," and it was, really--easier than my last leg for sure.  It was pretty flat, and the weather was nice and sunny, with temperatures in the 70s.  But for someone accustomed to being lower to sea level, I found I was struggling to maintain what is normally an easy pace for me.  I managed an 8:30 for the first mile, but after the midpoint I was sucking wind and just barely hanging on to an 8:55 pace.  Stupid lungs, needing oxygen that was now in rarer supply in the air around me at 5000 feet above sea level.

That's when I knew I was going to have to back off a bit on my goals for my next run or my lungs would secede from my body.


Leg #2: 11.6 miles

I began this run feeling awesome leg-wise.  For past Ragnars, I have usually had a long-ish run at the start that makes me start my second run a bit fatigued (and I measure my fatigue by how badly my quads are screaming at me).  But this time my quads were quiet, and when I started the run I had to do a lot more mental preparation than physical.  First, I told myself I would run at a pace that was comfortable for my lungs so I could make it to the end of these 11.6 miles.  Next, I wouldn't let myself think of this run as one loooooong 11.6 miler; I forced myself to think of it as two 5.75 mile runs in order to make the distance more manageable. I wasn't afraid of the distance-not after running four 20 milers for my marathon in April--but I was afraid that my lungs wouldn't be able to handle the pace at which I would have liked to run it (9:00).  So, I started off at about a 10:00 pace, but started picking it up way too early in the run.

That's when I decided to make some friends so I could pace myself.  I went into survival mode.

In the 4th mile I met up with a woman (I wish I had gotten her name!) who looked like she was running at the pace at which I should have been running, so I asked her if I could run with her for a bit.  We chatted for the next 5 miles or so, talking about running (surprise!), families, marathons, how much the headwind sucked, and how we both needed way more hill training.  Some people joined our conversations briefly as they paced with us for a while and then moved on to join the line of blinking red lights in front of us.  I stopped and walked with her when she needed it, and she caught up with me when I was feeling speedy.

At about mile 9.5 she needed to walk again, and told me to go on ahead of her (she could tell my legs were wanting to go).  I left her and went forward, grateful for her company all of those miles underneath the cloudless sky that held an intensely bright full moon.

Soon after I pulled ahead we hit the last water stop, where I slowed down enough to grab some water.  I heard another runner ahead of me ask the water stop volunteers how many miles we had left, and they told him 2 miles.  Since my watch said we had about 2.6 miles left, I told him that as I passed him throwing his cup in the trash can.  And that's when I met Justin from team Mohawk Madness.

He told me he was asked to run this relay after not running for a long time, and he asked me if he could run with me.  I of course said he could, and we then battled our way through the last of the mileage, chatting about education (we are both college profs) and how cold it was getting--I couldn't really feel my fingers by the end of the run.  Let's just say getting the slap bracelet off turned into an exercise in frustration because my fingers wouldn't work anymore.

The cruelest part of this run was the last tenth of a mile.  The run itself was pretty flat, with a slight uphill climb the entire time.  Slight, that is, until you turned right to head to the exchange, and then you encountered a steep hill that was almost a wall.  Justin and I powered up the hill together, pushing each other to get to that exchange.  I did manage to get the slap bracelet off my arm and onto the wrist of our next runner (Tim), and then promptly caught my breath by bending over and letting loose a stream of swear words in my head.

But it was the best night run on a Ragnar I have ever had.  It was like no one was competing out there; we were all united by the run.  Just a bunch of friendly crazy runners trying to get to the next exchange, happy to be out in the Utah night among the stars, headlamps, and blinking red butt-lights of the other runners.

How I felt during that run is why I do Ragnars.  Hell, it's why I run at all.

I started shivering as soon as I got into the van afterwards, so I changed as quickly as possible at the next exchange in a Honey Bucket (port-a-john), taking a flashlight with me because port-a-johns, if you don't know, do not have lights in them.  I then got back to the van, snuggled up under my blanket, and promptly passed out until we got to the next major exchange.  I woke up briefly to have breakfast and then  passed out again in the van until it was time for our first runner to be up on deck (Tiffany).  And then we were off, running our last set of legs.


Leg #3: 4.4 miles

I put on my purplest purple outfit for this run, because purple is my lucky racing color.  Besides, with the mountain I had to run, I was going to need all the luck I could get.

This was my hardest run.  Ever.  Out of any run I have ever done, this was the toughest thing I have ever had to do.  As a matter of fact, I use the term "run" loosely, because I power-walked up most of this mountain, not ran. Below is a rare shot of me running on this leg (and I was walking before I saw the camera.  Shame on me):

I did run the first 1.5 miles because they were flat, but as soon as I hit the base of the mountain, the steepness and heat got me and I had to start walking.  I was bummed about this, but my lungs were burning, I was gasping for air, and my legs were feeling the 11.6 miles from the night before.  I tried to run when I could, but it seemed that there was no recovery, not even when I was walking--parts of this mountain were so steep that even walking was making me wheeze like I had emphysema or something.  My only other option besides walking was to sit down and roll back down the mountain.

My view "running" up the mountain.

And then Justin appeared beside me.  I was so happy.

He and I power-walked/ran up the rest of the mountain.  We complained through the steep switchbacks, reveled in the short flat part near the end, discussed our weight-loss journeys, and then raced each other into the chute so our next runner could start on his/her epic 4 mile journey on the STEEPER part of the mountain.  If it hadn't been for Justin, I just don't think I would have made it.  But I did.  And I had enough energy to cheer on our next runner, who had to trek up the rest of the mountain, and looked like this afterwards:

Why do we do this again?  Oh, because it's fun.

We made it to the finish line in about 30 hours, receiving the awesome finisher medal that I had heard about that made me sign up for this race in the first place.

It was another awesome time on an awesome team and an awesome experience.  This was, by far, the toughest Ragnar I have run, but every moment of "why the HELL am I doing this" was worth it.  Afterwards we all hashed out our experiences, swapped stories, and bemoaned our new aches and pains.

But the one question that kept coming up was this:

"What's your next Ragnar?"

Yep.  We're addicts alright.  Even suffering running in the mountains can't cure us; it just keeps us jonesing for more.
  

Ragnar Relay Chicago 2013: Moo.

You know how much my husband loves me?  He loves me enough to let me go run from Madison to Chicago on our 10th anniversary. (I think the 10th anniversary should be heretoforthwith known as a "Ragnarversary.") He even loves me enough to drop me off in Madison and then come and get me in Chicago when we finish.

But I do love me a Ragnar, and this one was just as awesome as a Ragnar from Madison to Chicago could be (and awesomer than last year, because the temperatures were much more tolerable).  In case you don't know what a Ragnar is, that's where 12 crazy people (or 6 even crazier people) run about 200 miles from one city to another, running various legs of varying length, handing off a sweaty slap bracelet as they go.  I usually run with a great running team from Digital Running Club, who puts together teams of strangers to run these types of events.  This is my third time with a Digital Running Club team, and I really do enjoy running with them.  The teams are well organized, prepared, and you basically just show up and run with 11 other great runners.  If you ever get the hankering to run a Ragnar, I would suggest you look to them first.

Our team name on this Ragnar Chicago was How Now Spotted Cow, and we even had a team mascot:

Whiskey the Cow drinks and texts like the sophisticated modern cow that he is.

Spots on bottom, spots on top.  Me and awesome runner #10, Whitney, at the starting line.

I was runner #7 this time around, a spot of which I am growing fond.  While it means you have to be up on deck first before everyone else in the van (and not getting to sleep as long), it also means you are done with your running before everyone else--so you can spend your time cheering on your teammates and serving as their own personal race photographer:

Runner #9 - Justin

Runner #8 - Denise

Runner #11 - Bob

Let's review my legs, shall we?

Leg #1: "7.5" miles

I managed to get a nap in before my first leg, which made me feel much better (it got rid of my headache).  After that, I popped out of the van and headed on down to my exchange.

Please note the SWEET cow shorts I had on, courtesy of Running Funky, where you can get running stuff in all sorts of crazy-arse prints.  My first handoff went smoothly:

I trucked briefly along a city street, and then entered the Glacial Drumlin Trail at the trail head.  After settling in to a nice pace after 2 miles, I was running quite nicely.  There was a nice breeze, there was shade, and the path was nice and green (yay no brown!).  I hit the water station at about mile 4, and then took a left turn onto a street.

Problem was, I didn't remember any left-hand turns that early from looking at the leg map earlier, so I was a tad concerned.  But since there was an official Ragnar sign telling me to turn left, I let it be the boss of me and turned left onto a road that was nothing but rolling hills.  I then took a right at the next intersection, and then up more hills (!) to another intersection, where I recognized the street names.  By that time I was heading towards mile 7.2, and was looking desperately for an exchange.

I didn't see one.  Instead, I got told by another team that another 3.8 miles had been tacked on to my leg, and I would be running 11.3 miles now due to unexpected construction on a bridge along my original route.

Talk about having to shift into an entirely different mental space--from "ALMOST DONE!" to "HOLY YOU-KNOW-WHAT I HAVE 4 MORE MILES TO RUN I'LL NEVER MAKE IT OH GOD IT'S SO HOT I THINK I WILL DIE WHY DIDN'T I BRING ANY WATER WITH MEEEEE"

Yeah.  Mental games are fun.  I had to keep telling myself I had run half marathons in hotter weather and at a much faster pace, so I needed to suck it up, buttercup.

My van found me around that time, and the awesome runner #8 (Denise) offered to run the extra miles for me (twice!), but I didn't want to mess up her legs, and besides--I always finish what I start.  So finish I did, with a little walking right before mile 10 to reset my legs and mental state.

Finishing the "7.5" mile leg. I managed to grab some water right before my team found me.

I still managed a 9:27 average pace for those miles, so I was pretty happy.  After all, in a Ragnar, you don't want to run your first leg too all-out, or you'll hit the wall in your later legs.  Speaking of those later legs, let's move on to....

Leg #2: 5.2 mile run (Night Run)

I was worried about this run.  After 11.3 unexpected miles, I was worried my quads would be trashed.  But it's amazing what 4 months of marathon training and an unexpected running buddy can do for your stamina.  My quads felt good the entire time--not tight and screaming like they were last year at this Ragnar.  I started off at about 11:15 P.M., and I was determined to do a slower first mile and then speed up so as to let my legs ease into the running.  I did accomplish that with a 10:00 first mile, but then I met up with a fellow runner waiting at a light, and we decided to run together for the rest of the run.

It was gorgeous.  Soul-renewing.  The night runs are always my favorite.

The night was cool, the company was good, and helped push me up yet another hill at the end of the run.  I came in right on time, with an average pace of 9:20.  Just the kind of run that helps you sleep soundly in the van before your next run...

Leg #3: 6 mile run

I got in some good sleep after my night run.  We arrived at Exchange 30 at about 5:30 A.M.,  and I woke up and thought I was too jazzed to go back to sleep.  Well, I thought that until my head hit the van seat and I passed out until 7 A.M.  I then woke up and got ready for the run.

This 6.0 mile run was way more mental than physical.

It was a beautiful run, and I got to see the Great Lakes Naval Station on the McCrory Bike Trail.  The breeze from Lake Michigan was cool, there was shade on the path, and no one passed me (that I remember, anyway).  But the whole time I had to push myself to keep going, checking in with my quads and realizing that they weren't as tired as I thought they were--my mind was much more tired than my body.  I had to convince myself to run in 400 m increments, and, after I met each tiny goal, push myself to do another 400 meters.  This is what I did for 6 miles until I finally saw the glorious exchange that signaled the end of my running.

People didn't realize I was all triumphant because I had managed to run the entire thing.

I pulled off a 9:28 pace for that run, which is good for me at the end of a Ragnar.  I felt exhausted but ecstatic--now I could relax, wipe myself down with baby wipes for the last time, cheer on the rest of my team, and dream of a hot shower and a good teeth brushing.

We reached the finish line around 3 P.M. on Saturday, which was on Montrose Beach in downtown Chicago:

Overall, I was very happy with this Ragnar.  One of my secret goals was not to walk on any of my legs this time around, and I am considering that goal achieved--I didn't walk any of my ORIGINAL mileage.  I am also happy that I made some fantastic new friends, and I hope to run with all of them again in the future.

Until I do, I will leave them and you with the best Ragnar advice I've ever seen:

Wiser words were never spoken.  Or at least written on the side of a van at a Ragnar Relay.

Hey; have I mentioned I'm running a Ragnar this weekend?

This morning I did some short speed work (5 x 400) in the nice cool morning we had here in northern Illinois.  I was a little worried about doing it because I had been having a small runner's knee issue lately, with my right knee giving me crap as I walked down any flight of stairs in the past few days.  However, I threw on my Brooks Glycerins and headed out the door, deciding to stop if my knee started to hurt at any point in the run.

It didn't.  I felt it, but it wasn't pain I felt.  So I didn't stop.  And I slammed out some nice speeds on those 400s, managing to stay in the 7:30s most of the time.  I had worked up quite the sweat despite the coolness of the morning, but I ran my mile cool down into the wind, and was literally cooled down by the time I got back to the house.

It was a perfect 4-mile run.  (And I managed not to see any burnt out garbage in the middle of the road, either.)  And the knee?

It hasn't hurt all day.  And I have been trucking up and down steps, forgetting things every 5 minutes in my upstairs classroom when I was in meetings downstairs today.  I have also been up and down the basement steps a few times, doing laundry for Ragnar Chicago so I can finish up my packing this evening.

The dog just won't fit in the damn suitcase.

I just don't know why it is that when I run faster my aches and pains get better.  The only answer I can come up with is that my form pretty much blows when I run slowly for long distances, but improves when I start running faster.  I wish I could run with a full-length mirror alongside me outside so I can see what the hell it is I'm doing wrong on the slower runs.

This weekend I'll be glad if I don't see a mirror, since showers are few and far between at a Ragnar.  I will be glad that my only major choices during these are 1) when to sleep and 2) what to wear on the run and 3) how badly I smell and do I need to swipe on more deodorant so as not to offend my seatmate in an olfactory manner.

God, I love a Ragnar.  

It's almost Friturday oh boy oh boy oh boy!

This week I have decided not to worry about my weight.  Why?

Because Ragnar is almost here, that's why.  I have better things to worry about, like what I will wear on my three runs, what the weather will be like, and what matches Spotted Cow shorts.  Oh, and not overpacking. I always freaking overpack.

One thing I always worry about it how to train the week of a Ragnar.  I mean, I know I'm not supposed to go out and run a marathon or anything, but I always have a hard time drawing the line between "training" and "tapering."  I decided to go on a bike ride for 12 miles yesterday, and finally managed to shift the front gear to the larger sprocket.  Because I was afraid I wouldn't ever get it back on that big ol' sprocket, I didn't shift the front gear for the entire ride, which made the middle of the ride suck when I hit some rolling hills.  That was also the same time that I met tons of other bikers in some sort of biking event (there were arrows all over the road) and kind of hijacked their event for about a mile.  When I kept going straight when they turned, all I heard behind me was:

"HEY!  YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TURN HERE!"

I embarrassed myself and I wasn't even in the event.  Fabulous.

Today I decided to go on a 5 mile run, and the weather was gorgeous--tenmperatures in the 40s, no wind...the only thing that was amiss about this morning's run was some pretty wicked fog:

Instagram magic!  But it really was that foggy.

The other thing that was amiss was some new and unusual scenery along one of my normal running routes.  Remember, I run out in the country, ladies and gents, so gravel and dirt roads are always sneaking up on me.  Imagine my surprise when I came upon this along a gravel road near my house:

Dishes, books, two TVs, and what's left of a mattress.

God bless America, where you can burn random trash on mattresses on any country road you choose.  Isn't the right to bonfire wherever you like (or surreptitiously burn your ex's mattress and favorite TVs and dishes  in a fiery manner) in the 2nd Amendment or something? I don't know, but what I do know is that if there had been any hint of human remains on this thing, I would have turned tail screaming like I was the one on fire.

Other than the odd new scenery, the run was very nice.  My quads were more tired than usual from the bike ride the day before, but I was busting out some 9:22s and an 8:50 on the last mile, and was feeling pretty groovy.  Tomorrow I would like to do one last shorter bike ride, and do some small speed work on Wednesday.  Thursday it's yoga, because then it's Friturday, people!

I can't believe it's Monday and I'm this excited already.  I can only imagine how worked up I'll be by the end of the week.