(Just FYI, I am 5'9, standing in the middle of the back row -- so the girls to the right of me? At least 6'2. And they ran like the wind. Like Kenyans floating in the wind. Team Tutu came in third place -- so evidently the tutus did make look fast -- and won the prize for best running costumes.)
Since then I've run other Ragnars. And I'm running four more in the next 12 months. I keep trying to talk my husband into running a Ragnar race with me. I explain it in as accurate and appealing terms as possible: 36 hours cramped in vans amid 11 other sweaty runners, with little sleep, and crappy food; running for long miles in often dark, unfamiliar places, usually alone, where you might get lost.
Shockingly, I haven’t been able to talk him into it yet. Words like juvenile, stupid, asinine, not orphaning our children, get thrown around. Whatever. I don’t listen. It’s obviously just the jealousy talking.
Ahh… Full-On Stupid. That about sums it up.
This weekend I run the DC Ragnar race again. This time with team “Honey Badger Don’t Care”. The race starts in Cumberland, MD and goes through the Appalachian Mountains (cue: dueling banjo) and ends in downtown Washington DC. This time I'm racing mostly with people I know, rather than strangers. But the no sleep, crappy food, and running in the dark will still be the same, I'm sure.
I can’t wait. A full update will come next week. But you can follow my thoughts on the absurd brilliance of it all *live* on twitter: @janiecrouch