After a quick survey of the group we cinched up the race order. Glasses clinked, ales absorbed, down the gullet and off to our team rooms at The Crazy Cow's Cottage. Well, it had a different name, but I can't recall it. Something about a Cow's rear end. By morning Van 1 headed to the start where our first relay racer was honored with running a portion of the Golden Gate Bridge.."..after a cup of coffee," he said. There was an issue already brewing in our team because we didn't stop at a coffee shop pre-starting line. Sans java the first leg might have proven to be a complication for our friend and teammate however, the coffee was provided, and the leg began without a hitch.
Subsequent legs wound through singular seaside towns, up and over hills geometrically patterned with grape vines, and by quaint farm houses dotted with cattle, chickens and crafting cottages. 329 teams ran with beside us, ahead of us or behind us. One of our girls caught up with walkers as they leaned and slumped into a modest hill. The weak ones unexpectedly got the vapors while whiffing manure and, she noted while smirking, they were throwing up. The sun was setting and our time had come to run from dusk to dawn with little sleep.
After a three hour break for pasta and a nap we found our trainers and slipped them over clean socks. Headlamp and buttlamps made us all look like miners and the reflective gear was truly a fashion statement for ravers. Protection from motorists is key. Death is not an option on a Ragnar Relay. My goal as a captain was to have my team come out extant.
Sunrise in this part of California was peculiar: no glowing bulb rising from the east to squint at. Light crept in on all sides of the horizon like many silent tiny fingers. North, South, East and West: My natural compass was lost. But all at once the sky went from a stygian underworld where one sticks close to other runners for assurance and support, to an glowing earth with trees and air, fresh and moist. And with that, Van 1 was done. Van 2 in our relay would carry the team the rest of the way to Calistoga which is where we met up with them.
In the end, the whole team raced in together. Our final picture shows a troop of runners that learned a lot about each other. We sat in vans together for about 72 hours! As we were all driving home the next day it was really hard to say goodbye. We lived together in war against sleep, food cravings, and manure odors. We had conquered this with a laughter... so much laughter: There were more gufaws and gut-splitting giggles than some of the team had felt in their bellies in weeks, months, or even years. The shrieks, snickers and shouting were tribal and raw. We nine got away from things for a while and returned restored and revitalized. Our vigor and vim may still be shining through and we hope and pray each day that it doesn't get tarnished.
I love what I discover about myself each time I put on my running shoes. What will you discover when you put on yours today?
