Ragnar-itis

In 2012 a friend asked me if I wanted to run Ragnar with her and her team. I just think she wanted me to come because I have a 15 passenger van--and a driver. I was a "runner" and so I thought what the heck. I ran it with her and LOVED it!  I loved it so much that when the email came that said, "Hurry sign up for 2013 Northwest Passage" I leaned over to my husband and asked him if he wanted to drive again. He said, "Heck yay!" and so we were team 14!  That was a great team. Fast, dedicated and I found some new friends. 

Of course I drank the Kool-Aid and signed up again for 2014, this time I was team #3! I brought back my core running friends and grabbed a few more for this 2014 "Will Run for Donuts" team.  I think they drank the Kool-Aid too!  We, yes, all 12 of us (well, minus one since he is a young boy--more on that later--but his mom doesn't want to pull him from school) are signing up for the Napa Valley Ragnar in 2015!  Yes, I think we bathed in the Kool-Aid! We've got Ragnar-itis and we've got it bad. 

I don't know how to explain what Ragnar is. It really doesn't sound like fun, but it is! Simply put it is 12 runners running 200 or so miles from point A to point B passing a baton (aka slap bracelet) as your teammates take turns running.  Some runners run 2.7 miles on a leg and others run almost 9.  Each team member takes three legs. My legs this year totaled 19.1 miles (I was runner 8). You do this from Friday morning until Saturday evening. Your team never stop running.  Thankfully you are in two vans so the first six runners (in van one) are running while the second six runners (in van two) are resting, eating and getting ready to run their legs.  When runners from van two take over, van one eats, sleeps (or tries to) and gets ready for their next set of runs.  Yes, sweaty, stinky people are forced to spend about 36 hours hanging out with each other.  (Baby wipes and ziplock bags are a must for each van!) 

2014 NWP Team: Will Run for Donuts

I've run marathons before (26.2 miles) but you pace yourself differently when running 26.2 miles all at once than you do when you are running a five mile run and then a 7 mile run and then a 6 mile run. Not only that, you desperately want to come in under your projected time.  There is so much pride in that accomplishment. 

This year I blew my time out of the water.  I have been tracking my time (thanks to my new Garmin) and noticed that my pace has dropped so I dropped it on the spreadsheet. I dropped my time to it to what I have been averaging on my long runs. I was running a 10:34 pace for the past four months so I thought I would put that down. Somehow I ran 8:50! What?  I'm not sure what happened, but I ran like my pants were on fire!  

My first leg was a nasty 700 foot gain over a long 5 miles. I averaged a 9:26 pace. WHAT? Where did that come from? I don't run UP HILL under ten.  Crazy good that is!

Crazy tall hill!  

My second leg was at 1:45 in the MORNING!  Now that's motivation to run fast if ever there was. It wasn't for the faint of heart.  I ran across a trail that was out over Figalgo Bay so I could hear the water lapping agains the shore--scary. Turning up my itunes didn't help because anyone coming up from behind me would scare me even more!  So I just ran faster! This leg I did with a 8:46 pace.  It was my longest run at 7.75 miles. And I got the girl at the very end for a kill! 

My last leg looked really nasty. Once again some nasty hills with no van support. I really like hearing my people cheer me on. Highway 20 through Whidbey Island just won't let vans support you.  I hit that hill and did it!  I wanted that run so bad that I chased down a few runners.  The wind was in my face while on the highway and it was loud. The cars are driving pass you at 50-60 miles an hour. Gives one a moment of thought.  As I passed the one mile to go sign, I noticed a white shirt in front of me. My legs were already toast, but I wanted one more kill, so I chased her down and just at the last moment--in front of everyone at the exchange, I KILLED HER! (That just means I passed her, there is no violence in running.)  It felt so good!!!  Again, my average pace was crazy good! How did that happen?  My pace was 8:47! 

Just about to pass the girl in the white shirt for a KILL!!

So now I have created a monster. The five ladies in van one want to stay together as a team and they even want to travel to San Francisco next September to do the Napa Valley Ragnar. (Mom of the six runner, our 14 year old hero, says he needs to stay home and go to school.) My van? They drank so much Kool Aid, they are trying to figure out a way to do it this year! Sorry team, it's full!  

Ok, so I'm drowning in the Kool Aid. I've already mapped out the Napa Valley legs (they will all change by September 2015) and I've looked up flights, rental vans, and I'm looking into hotels. I've got Ragnar-itis. I think the only cure is to run another one.  (Anyone out there in Ragnar-land who wants to take a chance on a 10 minute pace runner who just wants to come have some fun?)

What makes this so fun? Your legs are gassed. You are so tired (I think I got about two hours of sleep the whole weekend). You don't eat well (hello port-a-potty) and you smell even worse! Not only that you are with five other people who are in the same boat, I mean van.  

It's the stuff that happens when you aren't running.  The dance party on the side of the road. It's the squirt bottles that someone thanks you for. It's the chocolate covered pretzels. It's the team and friendship building that happens as you tell stories in the van. It's the people that make Ragnar so fun.  The people on your team and especially the people in your van.  That's why I pick them carefully.  

It's the daughter who runs her mom's leg because her mom's ankle is twisted. It's the husband who runs silently by his wife on a very difficult run. It's the wash cloth given to a very hot runner as she busts it up a hill. It's the butt pat from spouse. It's the water dump. It's the catch at the end of the leg. It's the cow bell. It's the tunes. It's a Ragnar!

Spraying Sandra down with squirt bottles. 
(look at those runner calves on that gal  with a cowboy hat on!)

Van two waiting for Van one to arrive. We have a treat for them!

The back of our van. Decorating your van is what you do while waiting for your runner.  We got a message on the back, "Your spray bottle rocks!"

Team "Will Run for Donuts"
Our driver (aka Steve) is begging for donuts. Maybe he should try running. 

A Pioneer Heritage

I am a Utah Pioneer Daughter. On both sides of my parents I had family who crossed the plains.  Some crossed at a great cost, others came across the plains in "comfort" of the train. Some crossed more than once. Some were the first to see the Salt Lake Valley.

I will be forever grateful to these ancestors. 

Great, Great, Great Grandma Christine and Great-Great-Great Grandpa Christian holding their oldest child, "Aunt Nettie" 

This family joined the LDS church in Norway and were immediately persecuted by their community. When they had saved enough money to send their eldest, Antoinette, they did. She traveled with a small box holding her "extra clothing" and a few items from Norway, to England to New York, then to the Mississippi River where from that point she walked the whole way across the great plains to Salt Lake City. There was one morning where her leg was hurt and a family let her ride in their wagon.

When she arrived in the Salt Lake Valley she only new a handful of English words. She is my hero. She suffered so much and yet, persevered and made a difference.   

Aunt Nettie

Her younger brother, Charles, was my Great-Great Grandpa. He was able to come to Utah about eight years later in the "comfort" of the train. 

Great-Great Grandpa Charles

I wish I had a picture of John Daniel Holladay Jr. His story is wonderful as well.  His family joined the church from Alabama and they joined the Saints in Nauvoo at the time they were building the temple. He became friends with the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum.  

When it came time for the Saints to leave for the West, John Daniel, Jr. was part of the advanced party that scouted out the route and was with Brigham Young on that great day when Brigham saw the Salt Lake Valley and proclaimed "This is the Place, drive on." 

John Daniel, Jr. then traveled many times between Utah and Illinois helping company after company of Saints come west. It was in one of these trips that he found his wife. His future father-in-law asked him to drive the wagon with his daughter in it and a friendship and eventually a courtship happened.  

Oh, how I love these family members who walked the hard road and sacrificed so much for me and my family.  

And this is just my mom and dad's part of the family back in 2008. Many more have joined our family. 

Twenty Five Years Later....

I remember our first date as if it was yesterday, well, almost. It was a very cold January Sunday evening in Provo, Utah and my roommate wanted to go to a fireside at the Provo Tabernacle but we didn't have a car. She knew I was friends with Steve and asked me to ask him if he was going and if we could hitch a ride. He said yes so we went with him. That was that, or so I thought. 

See I didn't go to BYU to get a man, I went to get an education. I had my WHOLE life mapped out and it didn't involve a upperclassman from California at all.  I was still a freshman with lots of ambition and ideas about what I wanted to do with my life. 

I didn't get to college the normal way. I did go to high school and graduated, but I didn't goof off that summer between graduation and college. I did something a little unorthodox, I went straight to college. I graduated the first weekend of June and by the last week of June I was living in my own apartment (Glenwood), going to school and trying to get a job. I had to work and I knew I would have better luck getting a job if I was in school during the summer term. I was right and I landed a job. 

But going during the summer and moving into an apartment wasn't what a typical freshman did. But then again I really wasn't the typical freshman. I wasn't the typical anything. I have always walked to a different drum beat. So when Steve met me earlier that school year he had no idea I was as young as I was. 

Well, one date led to another and eventually I did what all good girls who don't want to get married do, I told him to take a hike. WORST WEEK OF MY LIFE! 

I finally wised up and he was so kind to take me back and then in March (yes, that's how fast things went) we started talking marriage. I think he was in love with me before he found out I was still a teenager. Remember how I didn't do things that the typical freshman did? Well, that had him all confused. I didn't live in the dorms, I was serious about school, had a job, came in the middle of June and I guess he thought I was an upperclassman. Oh, well. He fell in love with me. I feel in love with him. He asked me to marry him. I said Yes and June 30th we were married.

Now twenty-five years later we are still wondering what the heck happened back in the spring and summer of 1989 that made both of us start this journey together. I'm not sure, but I'm sure glad he did it with me.  

We have gone through a lot in our life. Most of the stuff has been my stuff so I really think the bigger thanks needs to be given by me to him. He has supported me through infertility (I know hard to believe with six kids), a horrible car accident and now cancer. He's let me do some pretty weird things. I've started businesses (none really took off, but they kept me busy). Run a non-profit organization and sink a huge amount of his money into it with only a negative return. He let me host homeschool conferences at a dear cost to him. He even allowed me homeschool all my children. I still don't believe he thinks it was best for all of us, but he allowed me to do it anyway. See what I mean by I think I owe him a HUGE amount of thanks.  

So here's to Steve for taking a chance on such a young thing--a young thing who had so much growing up left to do.
So here's to Steve for loving me despite of all my flaws and for all the trouble I've brought to his life.
So here's to Steve for his devotion, support and love.

And here's to twenty-five more.