Red Rock Relay 2012

I am home now after running the Moab Red Rock Relay two days ago--my first race EVER. My legs are still really stiff. Mostly its my “downhill” muscles. I had such a great experience, and learned so much.  After contemplating for awhile, I decided I would do it again.  I actually have “race let down”…meaning, I have a vague sense of sadness or depression that it is all over.  I already miss it.  That is a strange feeling.  I thought I would be so relieved—and I am, but I am equally “let down”.  Crazy sauce. 

I learned that all the awesome “racing” food/fuel is pointless if you are too nervous or exhausted to eat it—but that is okay, because you can do a relay race eating only a few pieces of pineapple with fruit dip during your “break”.  I learned that my nerves are directly related to my bladder—that no matter how empty my bladder is—I still FEEL like I will wet my shorts when I’m nervous . Except while running. 

Our 6-person team finished the 65-mile race in a little over 11 hours.  I had my personal best times, as did Wildman and SM...I'm not sure about the others. The hills were monstrous…I kept thinking—“this is the part where you have to use your hands to crawl/climb up the hill”.  The “hills” were equally steep on the downside…which is why my legs are protesting so loudly every time I move them.

Our team, Wanderwild, in order: Wildman, Me, CanyonsRCool, B, DesertBound, SM.

SM was the one on our team who was not related…he is a good friend of WM's from work.  He was good enough to take the time to run this race with my crazy-wild family…and though he admitted to being a swimmer/hiker rather than a “runner”, he was a total trooper…doing the longest leg at 8 miles and probably the hardest mentally—because you could almost see the end of the 8 miles from the beginning of it.  He gave it all he had….and I had to blink back the tears as I watched him dig deep and finish his race. 

SM: running his 2.94 miles "Round Mtn. Runner"... a serious climb!

 At one point, as I watched my sister, Desertbound, climb a monster set of switchbacks—I was reminded of Walter’s Wiggles in Zion Ntl. Park, only she was doing it with a racing number on her belly. DB is amazing in that she has always seen what scares me, then shows me how “fun-cute-awesome” it is to do it…ie:  “oh, the sewing machine scares you?  see how fun sewing is? Here, sew my pants for me…. See you can do it—it is fun!”  Oh, rock-climbing gives you the heebie-jeebies?  Just try it …let me teach you how…  Oh, running scares you? But see how much you can get out of it!?  Look at you go!”  

Desertbound, waiting to start this crazy race with the first leg: 7.36 miles "Get outta Dodge".

My brother, CanyonsRcool, was awesome.  He made the running, both up and down, look easy, fast, fluid, graceful, and fun.  Though I know it was challenging for him, he LOOKED like he was simply out for a stroll through the park—with his great fitting running shirt and melty smile drawing all sorts of looks from the female runners.   His wifey needs to run next time…if only to beat off the ogling women! I was/am so proud of him.  As I finished my second and longest leg of the race and handed the baton off to him, he gave me a big hug, telling me how awesome I was…which started the water works—again—then he was off to run his next leg.

 My brother, CanyonsRCool, running his first leg:  "La Sally Lovin", a 5.32 miles hard climb.

 My sister, B, is STRENGTH in cute running shorts and sexy hair. She is the one who will share with me her worries and fears, letting me see that I am not alone in my anxieties—then she just goes and does it—doing what needs to be done.  “You do what ya gotta do”—regardless of how scary it seems…courage-in-a-tank top—yes she is.  She “normalized” the uncomfortable/scary parts of the race for me so that I felt supported and cheered on.  She was the glue that made the bunch of us a TEAM.  What a rock star.

My sister, B, running her second leg...a CRAZY down and up 2.75 miles, called "Aspen Approach"

My parents drove SAG (support and gear).  How awesome is that?! Their kids got to show off for their parents—“hey mom! Look what I can do!  Look at me, Dad! See how fast I can go?!”   My parents rock.  “Good job, kids!  Way to go! We’re so proud of you!”   Yeah.

My husband. The team captain…the crazy one whose idea it was to do this race in the first place. Holy Buckets. Can we just say…..what the …?  He normally runs 8 minute miles (or “splits”) when running distance.  His half marathons last year were run with consistent  8-minute splits. With everything on his plate the last two months, full-time work, full-time master’s degree, full-time ranch care and caring for his parents…he ran maybe 3-4 times this last month.  Then race day arrives.  His first leg was 3 gnarly UPhill miles, which he completed in 20 minutes.  Yes, he was running 6:55 (approximately) splits. Uphill. We barely had time to get our next runner in place before he came cruising over the line. His next leg was the very last of the race, gentle rolling-ups-and-downs—6.75 miles.  He stunned us and himself, running those miles with 5:55 splits.  6.75 miles in 40 minutes.  That’s running at just over 10 miles per hour. 4 miles into it, he said to me —“I don’t have anything left.”  Then the course split off the main road and we couldn’t follow him in the car.  Waiting at the finish line, I was having visions of WM passed out on the side of the trail…so I sent my brother to go find WM to give him some water.  He ran a 1/3 of a  mile down the road, offered WM some water, but was turned down because WM “didn’t have time”  He smashed his previous best records... and perceived limitations. I was the blubbering wife at the finish line. 

Wildman:  burning up his first 3 miles uphill leg "Tower Hike"

Me?  Hhmm…my first leg was 3.4 miles on a very gentle incline, with a couple downhill spots.  That’s what I had done most of my training on. I had never run more than 5 miles in training, and most of my runs were about 3 miles. This 3.4 miles was SO.HARD. I learned that I like to have a curvy road so I can’t see very far in front of me. I wasn’t used to the crowds of traffic and runners…I was used to quiet Hollow Road.  I felt very shaken by the end of my first leg.  I secretly considered dropping out—because my next leg was 7 miles.  If those 7 miles were like this 3.4 miles…I was in BIG trouble.  In training, I was consistent at doing 12 minute splits.  I did my first leg, 3.4 miles, in 41 minutes, making it my best time yet, with 11:45 splits.  I had to remind my brain/body a couple times during my run that I was NOT going to DIE. Then I got to watch the rest of my team totally tear up the course…then it was my turn again.  7 miles. 
 “You do what ya gotta do."
 "It will be fun!”
  Most of this leg was downhill, with one BIG uphill about 4.5 miles into it…then another uphill for the last mile.  Those 7 miles were not only easier than the first 3.4, but they were FUNNER.  I actually had FUN running 7 miles. Though I had hoped to run the last mile, I ended up walking almost all of it.  I truly had given it everything I had.  I completed the 7 miles in about 83 minutes, making my pace about 11:42 splits. Woohoo!  The scenery was breathtaking! The racers and traffic had spread out, the road was mostly quiet, I jived with my tunes.  I had waves of emotion on and off through my run when it sank in what I was really doing. Six years ago, there was a question as to if I would walk again.  After my second leg, I sat in the cramped porto-potty with my sweaty face in my hands…wiping stray tears from my cheeks.  I had really done it. I didn't have the relay experience I'd hoped for--it was better.

Me, running my second leg, 7 miles called "the Steelbender" at about 8000 ft. elevation. loved it.. Mt. Tukuhnikivatz in the distance...

 I knew I would love to be cheered on as I faced my fears….but I didn’t realize how much I would love watching my team mates push their limits. And SHINE. And inspire. And transcend. There is something about going through tough things TOGETHER that creates a unique bond.  I’m grateful I could experience this with my family.  There are others in my family who weren’t with us, who are runners—some of them know it and some of them don’t.  And by “runners”, I mean people who can do the things that scare them…the things that are hard—that seem too hard. My family is full of people who push their limits, who “do what they have to do”, who face those “hills” and sing and dance at the top… who understand that its at the top of the hills that you have the most amazing view.

 Those BIG hills that we conquered in this race?  They make the hills that scared us before seem like bumps in the road. Hills? Scary? Not anymore. They are simply an opportunity to dig deep inside and put to use all those God-given qualities that sometimes lay dormant. HILLS remind us what we’re made of.  HILLS squeeze out the “yuck”, so you can be lighter, and faster, and braver, and happier….with an astounding view.  Why did WM run so much faster than he thought possible, when he had not trained for it, or done anything differently?  When asked, he said the only thing he’d done differently was spend the last couple of weeks getting emotional baggage OUT.  Emotional baggage is HEAVY. Literally. When you let it go, when you get it OUT— you are LITERALLY lighter and faster. Cleaning out the “yuck” makes going vertical easier.  If you want to know HOW he did that, you can ask him.  

 Oprah once said:  “Running is the greatest metaphor for life—because you get out of it what you put into it.”  Running IS a great metaphor for life, but its not the ONLY one.  I can come up with lots of metaphors…but not all of them scare me the way running does.  Some of them do…its choosing to face the “metaphors” that scare me the most that brings the most growth. All it takes is all you got.  At least in my experience. 

So, here I sit atop this hill, enjoying the view, as I ponder this latest  “hilly metaphor”. My legs still ache from the climb—but my mind is clear, my hope is renewed, my heart is light, and I have a new outlook on Life.

What does the next “hill” hold?

What will the view be like?  

Want to join me?

Go run a few miles first…

Make sure there are a few hills in there…

Then come join me…

Maybe we'll do a relay...

I’ll tell you how incredible you are...

And you will believe me.  

( link to our video of the relay:  Moab Red Rock Relay 2012 )