After losing my first post about Ragnar I have found it even harder to recap the awesomeness I experienced. You see, running for a team was so different from running for myself. I had people depending on me and no matter what I knew I did not want to let them down. This is my story of the coolest running event I have ever participated in.
3 weeks before Ragnar I ran 5 races. The plan was to just build mileage and get ready for our Ultra Race. Well, I ended up running a LOT faster than I should have resulting in a heel injury. It was not terribly bad but bad enough that I could not run more than 5 miles at a time. Bad enough that I could feel it walking. Bad enough that I should have gone on run rest. Completely.
Instead of blogging about it I kept in on the DL as much as possible. In my VLOG I said it was “A Little Sore” I was afraid that my team would be so ticked off. Afraid that they would have regretted asking me to run. They were al in marathon shape while I was mastering the pimp walk. I cross-trained and did a few short runs. I would log my workouts on DM so things didn’t seem too off. I down played it big time so that no one would freak.
2 days before Ragnar I had a breakdown at home. I cried and knew that my pace would be significantly slower than normal. My dear husband told me not to run and I told him that was not an option. I would NEVER bail on my friends. I stretched, I iced, I Ibuprofened. I drank more tart cherry juice than I thought possible. I ate pineapple like it was going out of style. I packed up my crap, got into that van and headed to Huntington Beach.
When we were loading and decorating the van I told the girls about my heel. Chacha knew and Pam knew but I don’t know if they knew how it hurt. Pam (bless her heart) told me to take my shoe off and she did what she could to make it feel better. She felt the big knot. It hurt like a mofo to get it massaged but it had to be done. I told them all that I would have to take it easy but in my heart I was scared out of my effing mind. I was so worried that I was going to get seriously hurt. I sucked it up, put on my #38 and smiled. We we’re going to do this thang.
We headed to the start and SR took off like a low flying jet. 1 pm on the nose. The clock had started. We were excited. We wanted it bad. It was time to prove ourselves to ourselves…to each other…and to several other teams…