Motivational Mondays (Dec. 7)

We've still got a few weeks left before we close out 2009 and move into 2010, but my 2009 race calendar is in the books. Sunday's Holiday Classic 15K was the last race I will have run in during 2009. In all, I ran in six races this year.

Now, I realize that six races is not a lot to many runners. That's an average of one every two months, and other runners out there run races more frequently than that.

But consider this: before 2008, I'd run in exactly zero races, so I ran six more races in 2009 than I'd ran in my entire life up until 2008. In '08 I ran in three races, so I doubled my races from last year to this year.

What does 2010 hold in store? Beyond Surf City, not sure. But what I am sure is that I need only look back at my races in 2009 to draw motivation and strength from, and to prove to myself that I have the ability to meet challenges head on, and have fun while doing so.

A look back at my races in 2009:

April 4: Seal Beach 10K

My first race of 2009 was an unexpected, last-minute 10K that I ran with my brother Danny. I don't think we had planned it but a few days before, or even a week before the race itself.

At the time, I was training for my half-marathon and figured this would have been a good tune-up race. It was very discombobulated from the beginning, and my time reflected it. I ran in 56:00 and while that is a respectable time, I wasn't quite happy with it.

Still, knowing what I now know, I realize that my time was more of a reflection of my overall training than the morning's events.

I was happy that I participated in a race again, as I'd considered and scrapped other races before this one, including a 5K in January.

Race report here.

Will I run this again in 2010: No. There are other 10Ks closer to my house that I'd prefer over this race.

April 19: Run Through Redlands Half Marathon

My shining race moment of 2009. Even though I'd go on to run other races, enjoyable races, races in which I didn't feel like my heart was going to beat out of my chest after I finished, I think this was the monster race obstacle I conquered in 2009.

After running my first Mud Run and the 2008 Mission Inn 10K, I decided the next logical step in my running was to shoot for a half. I hadn't joined the Lopers and was only doing things by myself, which is to say I did a lot of things improperly (no Gu, no fuel belt, no real training schedule). And again my time reflected that.

But that's not to say that I didn't conquer the beast, that I didn't meet the 13.1-mile challenge head-on and lived to tell about it.

Race report here.

Will I run this again in 2010? Maybe. I really want to run another half in 2010, and this might be one of the half-marathons I run next year, if I can squeeze in more than one during the calendar.

June 13: Camp Pendleton Mud Run

What fun! Another Mud Run came and went, and I enjoyed it as much as I did the first one.

The Mud Run was the reason I got into running, and the inspiration for the name of this blog. I signed up for a Mud Run scheduled for October 2008 and thus had to train for it. Along the way I realized that I loved to run, and it became a bit of an obsession.

This year, my goal wasn't just to finish the Mud Run but to do well in it. I wanted to beat my time of 1:07:44 from the first year, and secretly wanted to get close to an hour. I set a new PR (1:06:52) but was not too close to an hour.

Still, one of my goals for 2010 will be to beat my brother Danny's Mud Run time from 2009. I'm pretty confident I can get close since we were even at one point late in the race.

Race report here.

Will I run this again in 2010? You bet your ass I will.

Oct 9-10: Ragnar Relay Las Vegas

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed up for the Ragnar Relay. I was worried, anxious, excited and nervous... and pretty much any other adjective you could describe, before the race. But mostly I was just unaware. Totally unaware of what was in store for me.

To say it went well would not even begin to describe it. I completely, utterly and totally enjoyed myself. I fell in love with the Ragnar Relay. When I want to think of something uplifting, all I need to do is to pick some random moments during the race and I instantly feel good, whether it was laying down on a patch of rocks at midnight and trying to sleep or gearing up for my first leg while wearing a reflective vest and headlamp, or the fantastic breakfast we had at an empty restaurant in a casino somewhere outside of Vegas.

It was a monster challenge that required a great deal of determination, motivation and - most of all- teamwork, and our team, the awesome Desert Tortoises, rose to the challenge.

Race reports for Leg 1, Leg 2 and Leg 3.

Will I run this again in 2010? Oh how wonderful it would be to run this again. I'd love to run this race once more, and I'd really really love to run another one of these as they are all over the country. The Wasatch Back one is in June and might be interesting to participate in. Since going to Seattle, though, I've really been intrigued by the Ragnar Relay Northwest Passage, which is in July and goes from Blaine to Langley. That's probably just a fantasy though, but I'd love to make the Ragner Relay Las Vegas a reality in 2010.

Nov. 8: Mission Inn Run 10K

After setting a time of just over 52 minutes in this 10K race in 2008, I wondered if I would be able to beat that time this year and worried that I was somehow not as strong of a runner in 2009, late 2009 that is, than I was in 2008 even though I was more knowledgeable, stronger, better prepared, etc., now than before.

So I was excited then that I not only set a new PR but smashed the old one in the process.

The race was fantastic all the way through as I felt great from the moment I crossed the start line to my sprint into the finish. I set a new bar for future 10Ks but it is one I feel I can scale.

Race report here.

Will I run this race again in 2010? I will run the Mission Inn Run in 2010 but not the 10K. I will run the half-marathon. It's not until November but I will be excited for it when it arrives.

Dec. 6: Holiday Classic 15K

A great way to close out my race calendar.

The 15K was a strange distance and I did not know whether to push myself all the way through like I'd done in the 10K or if I should approach it like a half marathon. In the end, I think my approach was a cautious one but I still had a respectable time, and one that I'm proud of.

It was great to have run a race like this to close out the calendar as I got a lot of support from fellow Lopers and random people because I wore pink, because others identified me as a Loper.

That just made it a fitting end since I've become a much better runner because I joined the Lopers.

Race report here.

Will I race this again in 2010? Not sure. December of 2010 seems like such a long time from now, it's tough to say.

*****

One interesting note about all these races was that I had the support of all my blog buddies to help me along the way, and that alone makes these races and experiences special, and I can't wait to continue that into next year.

Overall, I feel like even though I may not have had the quantity, I more than made up for it with the quality of races. The Mud Run is not just another 10K, and the Ragnar Relay is not just another race. And when my shortest race was a 10k, I think I did well to conquer longer distances.

I know that I will start my 2010 race calendar off with a gigantic challenge (Surf City Marathon on Feb. 7) and a race that could easily move into my number one slot of best race memories, but I do know that even then it will be tough for the 2010 race calendar to be as enjoyable and rewarding as this year's was.

Ragnar Florida!

I'll be going to Seattle this weekend for business but I wish my plane would divert down to Florida instead.

This weekend is the latest installment of the Ragnar Relay as Ragnar Relay Florida will go from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean. That sounds awesome. It begins in Clearwater and ends up in Daytona Beach and passes north of both Tampa and Orlando.

The map says it's 203 miles but the site says it's 191 miles. In the end, it's a lot of miles no matter how many miles are running.

I recently stumbled across a new blog by looking for Ragnar Relay posts and came across Christy's blog with the awesome title of It Just Looks Like Slow Motion. She ran in the Wasatch Back relay earlier this year and is now on Ragnar number two. According to her blog, she'll also run in the Ragnar Relays in Utah, Seattle and D.C. in 2010. How great is that? So I'll definitely be sending some positive vibes to Christy, who is Runner 12, will run legs of 8.8 miles (very hard), 3.8 (easy) and 7.6 (hard) and will have the honor of running the final leg.

Since I ran the Ragnar Relay in Las Vegas last month, I've become not really addicted but certainly quite open to running in another such event. There's a race in Arizona in February, and I've toyed with the idea of seeing if I could join a team. I'd just have to convince Mrs. LB that that would be in the best interests of our family even though I'm not sure it would be. But a happy LB is a happy Mrs. LB, right? No. Okay, well, I guess I'll try another approach.

Anyway, I'll be following along as much as possible to the goings-on in Florida this weekend. The race starts Friday and ends Saturday, and it'll be an exciting time for all participants I'm sure.

Race Calendar

Now that the Ragnar Relay is in my rear-view mirror, I can look forward to some upcoming races. I have three ahead of me that I'll participate in, and beyond that some other potential races as well.

Nov. 8: Mission Inn Run, 10K

I ran in this race last year and will make it two consecutive years running in the Mission Inn Run. I like it because it's very close to my house (start line is about six miles away) and it's been the big (only?) race in Riverside for a while now. I remember back before I ever was interested in running how I'd hear about the race and just thought it was another one of those things that wasn't for me.

There is a bit of a new wrinkle in the race. This year, aside from the 5K and 10K course, there is a half-marathon. As much as I'd love to run a half-marathon, my Loper pace leader recommended only running the 10K. The Sunday before the race and the Sunday after, we're running 15 miles each day so she said it was best to stick to the shorter distance on race day. They apparently had created our training plan without knowing there would be a half-marathon at the Mission Inn, otherwise we might have been slated to include that in our regimen.

Dec. 6: Lopers Holiday Classic, 15K

I've never ran in this race but it's the Lopers' annual event so I'm going to go for it. A 15K is roughly 9.3 miles (or three 5Ks), which is a distance I feel great about. It seems like a bit of a challenge, not just in completing the distance but in trying to get a good time. I have some strategy for the 10K and would have one for the 5K but not sure about the 15K. For instance, what kind of pace would I try to keep the first couple of miles? How do I incorporate the fuel belt and the Gu? I think I'll leave my fuel belt off for the 10K but it seems it would be a necessity for the 15K, because those extra three miles will take about 25-30 minutes to run.

Feb. 7: Surf City USA, marathon

Obviously, the big race on my calendar. I've already registered for this one and I'm looking forward to it already. It's still a ways away but I'm confident I'll get there in one piece, physically and mentally. I don't want to psyche myself out but we've barely completed a third of our training for it with the Lopers. We haven't ran more than 12 miles, and we'll be hitting 15 miles soon enough, 18 miles and then in January I believe we have a pair of 20-milers. Those will be fun.

I guess I'm figuring that once I get to those longer training runs I can start to really feel up for the marathon.

April 23-24: Ragnar Relay, Southern California

I'm hooked on the Ragnar Relay. Truth be told, though, Mrs. LB is NOT a fan of it. She was worried something would happen to me out there, and while there was the sad and unfortunate death during last weekend's race, that was an isolated incident.

There are literally Ragnar Relay races all over the country, and to have one in my own backyard is rather enticing. I'm not sure if any of my Desert Tortoise teammates would be up for it - haven't really asked, though some had said they'd do it again - but I've just been toying with the idea of running it. The route is basically down Pacific Coast Highway so there would be some awesome views of the beach and the Pacific Ocean. Plus, we could use houses for our rest stops! The path runs through Long Beach, and my brother Danny lives pretty close to Long Beach, so we could use his house as a rest area. I think he'd even be up for letting me catch some zzzs on his bed... or not...

Anyway, at this point it's sort of like window shopping. I'd love to participate but not sure if it'll happen.

There's also another Ragnar Relay nearby, in Arizona. That one seems awesome too since it's kinda like Vegas in that it was out in the middle of nowhere. The Arizona one starts in Prescott and finishes in Mesa, and a lot of the running is through stretches of nothing. It's in February, about two weeks after my marathon, so I'd definitely be up for running the distances.

Still, more window shopping. Hey, a guy can fantasize, right?

Camp Pendleton Mud Run

Not sure about the dates of this one but I'm there. I'd love to run in two maybe, so I might consider running one in June and another in October. I assume the dates will be the same as they were last year and this year, in June and October. Whatever the case, I'll sign up for the one in June for sure and then consider the one in October. Just depends on what else I might have going on that year. Ragnar Relay Las Vegas is already set for Oct. 22-23, and the Desert Tortoises might be back for more, but who really knows what'll happen.

Ragnar Odds and Ends

For the last week or so, I've been pretty much blogging exclusively about the Ragnar Relay. And if you are about ready to see more posts about other topics, don't worry, I'll be getting to other things soon enough. This relay race has been a much more enjoyable and rewarding experience than I could have imagined, so it's carried over into my writing. I'm kind of an emotional writer, at least when I feel something I can write about it for days, so that's kind of what's going on here.

Anyway, there are some things that didn't make my previous Ragnar posts, as well as some new tidbits.

Inadvertent Guest Blogger

After my post on Wednesday about the fallen Ragnar runner, I was contacted by the blog Running Relays and asked if I'd be willing to share my post over there. I was honored so I agreed. Check out the blog if you have a chance. I have a feeling I will be since I'm kinda hooked on the ideas of relay races. And who knew there were so many relay races out there?

Preparing For The Race

Here are some pictures of my pre-race preparations. They were actually from the day before the race, when I was getting all my gear together.

All the clothes I took with me to the race. I actually only used one of those shirts, the black one, during the race. Ragnar hooked us up with some nice shirts and I ran with our team shirt as well.

Some of the provisions I took. I used two of the Gu packets, and handed two more out, so I came back a lot of the energy gels. I used the Body Glide on my thighs, of all places. I'll have to explain that one. One of the trail mix bags came back full but the other served well as a snack.

I donated the apples. I don't know where they went, and I didn't have any apples. Didn't feel like them. Jorge and Fausto stocked the van well so I didn't need to bring these apples. The Clif bars did well as my usual pre-run meal (along with some water). I used the tape for my nips, and there are some Aleve in there with the band-aids that were used as well. This bag ended up being my bag of dirty clothes.

What it all looks like packed in. Fuel belt and iPod were each indispensible, as always.

Tortoise Green

Danny and Mychael were awesome throughout the whole relay race experience. They first came up with the idea of entering into the race, organized pretty much everything that had to be done before the race and were vital parts of our Ragnar effort.

They also ordered us these awesome shirts.

They are nice quality shirts and I'll use mine again. Not sure if I want to throw it into the rotation right away or save it for special runs or whatever. We'll see.

Decorations

We had to decorate our van, of course. Some vans were all done up, and our own Van One (which was actually an SUV) looked great.

Our effort:

Fausto drew these on either window. They looked great, and identical to the tortoise Mychael drew on all of our hats.

We all drew our names on the back of the van window as well.

Fly Like An Angel


This team that we ended up running along with for several of our legs wore some outfits. We joked with them that they were cheating because they had wings. According to the Ragnar site, they were Goofy Runners - Bradley's Angels, at least that's what their team name was.

This particular runner was running along Alex's first leg, the most grueling leg of 'em all. But the wings didn't seem to faze her during her 8.6-mile run.

Relaying Sadness

I didn’t know Jeremy Kunz. I never met him, nor any of his Ragnar Relay teammates. Maybe the Desert Tortoises and Team Wannabes crossed paths somewhere out in the Valley of Fire State Park – it’s really tough to say.

But his death really hit hard nevertheless.

Jeremy was the runner who died during the Ragnar Relay in Henderson, Nev., the unfortunate victim of an alleged drunk driver. It’s still unclear whether the driver was intoxicated, though he is suspected of driving while drunk and has been charged with, among other things, DUI with death. The pathetic excuse of a human who killed Jeremy got out of his car and ran away from what he’d done only to get apprehended by police minutes later.

Jeremy’s loss is quite saddening. It’s not just because he died while running – such deaths sadly are a somewhat common occurrence. Just two weeks ago, during our weekly Loma Linda Lopers meeting, a fellow Loper who is a California Highway Patrol officer talked to the group about safety and how Runner vs. Automobile confrontations are sad but common situations. And then over the weekend, a local jogger died after he was hit by a drunk driver early in the morning.

What really has gotten to me, though, and really eats away at me is that Jeremy’s life was taken away from him while he was doing something exciting, something that he apparently loved doing, something I quickly became infatuated with. Ragnar Relay Las Vegas was his third such event, as he’d twice ran the Wasatch Back relay in his native Utah. His team in the Las Vegas relay was filled with family members, including his wife Melinda.

Jeremy was mowed down while helping out his teammates. He wasn’t running at the time of his death, as he was standing on the side of the road helping cheer on and keep his teammates hydrated.

It really could have been many of the 2,400 participants. After all, many of us were out there on the course when we didn't need to be, cheering on our teammates and other runners, handing out water, helping those on the road.

If I learned one thing from Ragnar Relay participants from other teams, it was the spirit of camaraderie, of kinship. I talked to some members of other teams, didn’t really get to know anyone outside of the Desert Tortoises, but still felt a bond, a connection with other groups, with other runners. Sure, it was a race, and sure, you want to challenge and test yourself. But we were all there for the same thing, to participate in what should have been a memorable experience, the kind that can mold and shape your life.

Quite often during our time out there, we were cheered on by other teams and other runners, even those who passed us by during our respective legs. It was contagious. I found myself clapping for and cheering on runners who passed by me, even though I had no idea who they were.

"Good job runner!" and "Almost there, you got this!" were things I blurted out often, and I'd either get a "thanks" or a thumbs up in return. Encouragement is necessary during races, but in particular during something as challenging as the Ragnar Relay.

The relay race really was a unique experience in terms of other races I've ran in. Usually, I'm trying to do something for myself, to either set a new PR or to finish a certain distance.

Finishing the relay race really did give me a sense of what it means to be on a team, of pushing yourself to the limit, of giving everything you’ve got for the greater good. I suspect Jeremy learned that during his previous relay races, and that that was the reason why he ran more than one.

So when I heard of the accident, when I think back now about what happened, I am still choked up. I can’t help but shed tears of sadness for a man I never knew, a man I never met.

On Ragnar Relay’s Facebook page, one commenter summed it up perfectly:

“You only beat us to the next exchange, brother.”

So true.

Rangar Relay, Part III: The Desert Tortoise Society

Part three of three of the Desert Tortoises' Ragnar Relay experience. Here are links to Part I and Part II of this three-legged journey.

Ragnar Relay, Part III

Following the completion of our respective second legs, Van Two members were in a bit of a whirlwind. Physically, we were spent. We'd run a combined 75 miles already, and all of that since 2 p.m. Friday. It was about 6 a.m. Saturday, so we'd exerted a lot of energy in a short amount of time.

The recent accident that took the life of a fellow runner was also fresh in our minds, and while we tried to focus on our experience, I couldn't (and haven't been able to) shake off the sadness.

We tried to recover physically by going to breakfast. We drove around and around until we finally found our destination: the Green River Valley Casino, home of the Original Pancake House. At the time, I didn't care if it was the Original or the Copy, I just wanted to eat.

The seven of us ordered our food (another Ragnar team ate nearby and we waved hello to them) and while we waited, I stretched. I thought the waiters/hostesses might think it odd to see someone doing full-on stretches in the middle of an empty restaurant, in the wee hours of the morning, but I could not care less. I was on the ground, thinking about the Loper who leads our weekly stretches after our Sunday runs, trying to reach for my ankle while I sat on the ground.

I wasn't quite thinking about my third and final run because I knew if I would have started thinking about it, I would have become overwhelmed. It was supposed to start between noon and 1 p.m., in other words, right as the sun was overhead. My first two runs were run in the darkness, so that would be a new and different experience. I didn't want to start psyching myself out, so instead I just chowed down five pancakes and a plate of potatoes (hash browns, not really hashed... or brown).

As we dragged our legs out of the casino, we were suddenly surrounded by a mass of runners. Except they weren't Ragnar participants. No, they were there for a 5K. I couldn't help but laugh. A 5K? That's it? I don't look down on race distances or anything like that, but the thought of a 3.1-mile race seemed so insignificant at the time. After all, we'd just finished running 70-something miles.

With stomachs filled to the brim, we piled into the van and made our way to Exchange Point 30. There, we would begin our journey and each of us would run our final legs.

But would we rest?

This Exchange Point was at an elementary school, and there were plenty of vehicles there. Still, I was interested in only one thing, and I soon spotted it. Behind a chain-link fence, on the other side of the street was a place to sleep. I grabbed a sleeping bag, the towel that served as my pillow and bade farewell to my van-mates. They were welcomed to join me, but nobody did. I found a spot about 20 yards away from other runners/sleepers, unfolded the bag, crawled inside and closed my eyes. The sun was already shining down on us, so I put on my sunglasses and crashed.

About two hours later, my stomach woke me up and I had to go find a bathroom. The porta-potties ranged from gross to really, really, really gross but I didn't care.

I felt refreshed, ready to begin our final trek, ready to help the Desert Tortoises along to the finish line. But even though I felt refreshed and ready to go, we wouldn't be going for another hour. Van One had hit some problems as blisters and fatigue set in. We were running about 1 hour, 40 minutes behind our projected time, though we'd been behind when we handed the bracelet off to Van One a few hours back.

I wasn't so concerned with our finish time, though. I was only disappointed in that because it meant my run would be later in the day and the heat might start to have an impact on me.

Meanwhile, Jesse was starting to regain his health. He said he shook his knee around and felt it pop, and afterward it felt good once more. He said he was willing to try his leg but I wasn't sure if that would have been a good idea or not. He seemed determined and some of the other van-mates supported him so I figured I'd support him to.

Eventually, Van One pulled into the Exchange Point and we were a team once more, albeit for about 15 minutes. Vanessa (Runner 6) was within sight and we gathered at the Exchange Point to cheer her on. She handed off the bracelet to Jon...

... and after a quick photo-op, he began his final leg.

And that was it. Van Two was off. Jon tore through his 4.0-mile run, finishing in under 40 minutes.

Next up was Alex, and he had 4.2 miles to scale. While Alex was on the course, Jesse was preparing himself for a run. I did not know if he was really ready for it or if he just felt like he had to step up because the rest of us had run so much.

Whatever the case, as Alex approached the end Jesse took his place in the Exchange Point. Alex finished his run in about 40 minutes...

... and off Jesse went. We first passed him after he'd been running around half a mile. He seemed okay, and at the mile mark we got off to give him some water. He kept chugging along the course and seemed determined.

Jesse was close to the finish line as we passed him for the last time and we cheered him on from the van. He seemed determined to finish strong as he increased his speed, passing a few runners along the way.

The last stretch, he'd tell us later, was quite tough but he saw the run through, finishing his 3.5-miler in about 30 minutes. Excellent time if he ran it healthy and under normal circumstances, but given that his knee had been in pain and he'd had little sleep in the last 30 hours, it really was remarkable.

Elvia took off, and so did our momentum. Jesse's effort and the two previous successful runs were really contagious, and Elvia's grit and determination only added to that.

Now, originally she was only supposed to run 3.1 miles and my leg was slated for 6.3 miles, but once we got to the penultimate Exchange Point, we were told that Leg 34 (Elvia's) was increased to 4.1 miles and Leg 35 (mine) had been decreased to 5.3. I was quite enthused that I would not have to run more than six miles. I would have been able to do it, I believe, but the sun and the fatigue could have done damage, and I suspect that was the reason the change was made.

While I felt bad for Elvia - she was expecting to run three miles but would have to run a fourth without knowing/preparing for it - I couldn't help but celebrate my good fortune.

Still, the last thing I wanted to do was to lose my focus. I had done well to prepare myself mentally for the run, had stocked my fuel belt with Gatorade, had a packet of Gu ready, had my iPod set on my third and final playlist, had my sunglasses on (oh, what glory not to have to wear the headlamp!) and even got some sunblock sprayed on me.

I kept an eye out for Elvia.


When I finally spotted her, that was it. I was on. Five miles separated me from the final runner, the final leg, the run that would culminate the entire team's journey. The last thing I was going to do was to fail, to let my team down, to bring to a crashing halt the momentum started by Jon, carried on by Alex, elevated by Jesse and now moved forward by Elvia, and supported all along by the unyielding efforts of our beloved driver and teammate Fausto. We had all worked as a team from the moment we got together and I had to see my end through.

So when Elvia slapped the bracelet on my wrist, I was ready. More than ready. Letting my team down was not an option. It just wasn't in my plans.


I set off on my final 5.3 miles of the Ragnar Relay. Despite not getting much sleep and having run some 14 miles already, I felt good. Felt great. I got into the run pretty quickly and tried to keep myself from running at a too-fast pace. I did, after all, have to battle the conditions.

A few runners passed me by, and I had to especially stay focused when that happened. I did feel bit more competitive at this point than I had in previous times during the race, mainly because it was the end and I always feel the need to finish strong. But I did well to keep my emotions in check.

Before my run, I'd told my team that I would need some assistance in the form of water. Since I had my fuel belt, I wouldn't need it to drink but I wanted some water splashed on me to keep me cool. So at the three-mile mark, Jorge complied.

Feeling refreshed and enthused at having seen the Tortoises showing me their support, I knew the finish would come soon enough. And when I saw the "One Mile To Go" mark, I was raring to set a new mile PR.

Of course, that was never going to happen. Fastest I've ever run a mile was in about 6:57, and there was no way that was going to happen under the circumstances. But I upped my pace down the last stretch, off a road from the one I'd run the first four miles. The terrain was fine, the sun was hot and I was close to the finish. I even passed a couple of runners.

I got close to the finish, took my bracelet off and tried to slap it on Jorge's wrist. Instead, I fumbled it and had to hand it to him to send him on his way for the last five miles of the race.


I was thrilled to have reached the finish line. It was a glorious end to a long journey. But the journey wasn't over quite yet. Jorge, after all, was still on the course. And we needed to meet him at the finish line.

As we made our way to the van, Jesse had relayed a story to me. While they waited for me at the Exchange Point, an older lady had asked him if they were part of the Desert Tortoise Society. See, on our van we'd painted tortoises and written "Desert Tortoises" in large green-and-white letters. Jesse said he was surprised by the question and that he told her that we were part of a relay race team named the Desert Tortoises.

It's funny though, because we did form some sort of Society during the race. Ragnar Relay participants, we quickly found out, were friendly, willing to help out, and all there for the same thing: to have fun and to have a memorable experience, all of which made the tragic loss the night before more difficult.

We were a society, though, a unit. A team. That much was evident during the final run. By the time Jorge had crossed the finish line, we had shaved off about 40 minutes from out deficit. We tore through that last set of legs as if it was our first, as if we had fresh legs and a full night's sleep behind us.

All in all, Van Two ran about 98 of the 171 miles, and did so in about 25 hours. Overall, our team finished in 28 hours, 15 minutes, 3 seconds. We finished 130th out of 182 teams. But those were all details. We were happy with having finished the race, having met a tough challenge head on and come out better for it on the other end.

Members of Van One here: Chris, Mychael (my sister-in-law), Danny (my bro), David, Jennifer and Vanessa.

My beloved van-mates: me, Alex, Elvia, Jesse, Jon, Jorge and Fausto kneeling in front of us.

We ARE the Desert Tortoise Society.

And damn, does it feel good.

Ragnar Relay, Part II: Best-Laid Plans

Here's the second installment of my Ragnar Relay recap. If you missed the first one, scroll down or click here:

Ragnar Relay, Part II

Once Jorge finished his first run late Friday night, a brisk 8.6-miler he ran in about 1 hour 15 minutes, Van Two was done for a bit. After seven hours and 44 miles worth of running, we felt we sort of deserved a break. However, Van One's runs weren't nearly as long as ours. Their second legs were somewhere around a total of 25 miles, so we were not going to be able to get much rest.

But we needed it. Our next set of runs were supposed to start between 1-2 a.m., which means we likely weren't going get any sleep at all until Saturday morning, after the sun had come up.While not all of us were tired enough to hit the sack, we all were thinking about the early-morning runs and figured we might as well get some sleep while we could.

We set out from Exchange Point 12 and headed over to Exchange Point 18. Along the way, I tried to close my eyes and get some sort of rest. I dozed off, as before I knew it I was lifting my head up and trying to figure out where we were.

Exchange Point 18 was on the edge of Lake Mead. There were marinas all around us, and on a normal day the only people who likely would gather there would have been boaters, as well as water- and jet-skiers. But us runners took over as there were a lot of cars and a lot of people there, and I suspected many were in the same position as us, trying to figure out how to sleep.

Some had. Off to the side of the parking lots were runners snuggled up in sleeping bags, crashed out on whatever patch of dirt they could find. Presumably, they were getting some rest.

I made a mental note.

Supposedly there was food there, some sort of pasta or pizza. I was hungry but still had not shaken off my sleepiness. I embraced that. I wanted to sleep, needed to sleep, so as most of Van Two headed over for some food, I tried to get some sleep in the van. I tried to sleep sideways but couldn't extend my legs. I leaned on the door and tried to stretch my legs in a different position but could not get comfortable. I was growing frustrated.

The other Tortoises came back, opened doors, made noise and I decided my efforts were fruitless after all. The pasta was either a rumor or long eaten as there was none anywhere, so the group dug into some tasty chicken salad that we'd brought along. I decided at that point that food and replenishing my body was just as important as sleep, so I chowed down.

After eating, I mentioned to Jorge that I should have brought a sleeping bag.

"We have some in the van."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

I grabbed a bag, unzipped it, rolled it out and made a place to sleep on the rocks and gravel next to our parking spot.

I wasn't comfortable at first. No, not comfortable at all. Had to get some rocks out of the way and dig a little niche in the ground with my hip in order to clear out some rocks. My aunt propped me up with a towel and before I knew it I was fast asleep.

It was not a long sleep, not a particularly comfortable sleep either, but it was sleep nevertheless and after about an hour or 90 minutes of sleep, I felt refreshed and ready to go.

Before we knew it, Jon was back at the next Exchange Point, waiting for his turn to start. This time, though, it'd be a bit different. We weren't going to be able to leap-frog him because his run was entirely on trails. Instead, we went up ahead to the next exchange point, and six miles later he completed a run he said was worth the entire trip. I wasn't as fortunate to run on the trails but apparently the lack of roads, of civilization, just the runner and nature under a cloud of darkness was awe-inspiring.

Alex took off afterward, and part of his run was on a trail that ran alongside the road. He recovered from his challenging 8.6-miler and did well to complete his run, a 3.6-miler that started at roughly 2:30 a.m.

Once he was done, it was supposed to have been Jesse's turn but his knee was still bothering him. He was trying to remain positive but he was a bit quiet and was disappointed. He said the run he'd been looking forward to the most was this one, this middle-of-the-night run. Instead, Jorge ran it for him, a four-miler. Elvia then ran her second run, a 3.1-mile run that was partly on trails, partly on the street.

Now, part of the Ragnar Relay was challenging because of the conditions, but another part of the race was challenging because we were trying to navigate through towns and roads unfamiliar to us. We were in Henderson, Nevada, a place none of us knew at all. And we got lost. Elvia got to her Exchange Point before we did, and in fact called me from there. She had taken her phone because she was worried about not navigating the trails properly. Instead, she needed it because we weren't there.

Of course, this completely unsettled me. I snipped at my teammates, complained that we had wasted time back at the other Exchange Point and now I didn't have adequate time to prepare. I was upset as I started my 5.9-mile run around 4:30 a.m., and for the first mile or so tried to not let it bother me.

I noticed far ahead a helicopter shining lights down on some part of Henderson but didn't really think much of it.

I turned onto the street I needed to take. This path was easy, actually. Run up for about 1.5 miles, make a right and run the rest of the way on that street, on Horizon Ridge Parkway. But about four miles in, a police officer had blocked the street ahead of us and diverted me to the right. I asked him where I needed to go, and he said to make a left on Gibson.

I continued along, tried to focus on my run. I wasn't really upset that we couldn't go the way we needed to go and just hoped that everything was okay.

I ended up running down some residential areas, next to a freeway and finally saw Gibson. I made a left and noticed that the street was a long, uphill climb. I checked The Garmin and saw that my mileage was quickly climbing towards six miles. I got up to Horizon Ridge Parkway, made a right and was back on course. I saw the Exchange Point up ahead and got in after running 6.76 miles, about three-quarters of a mile longer than I'd anticipated running.

I felt good about my run but as soon as I got there, our driver Fausto (who was originally supposed to have run the race with us) asked me if I knew why we'd been diverted. I said no, and he said: "Go rest up and I'll fill you in."

A rock sank into my stomach. I knew something bad had happened, just with the tone of his voice.

"A runner was killed by a drunk driver."

My chest still heaving from the run, I was in shock. Tears immediately filled my eyes, and I was unable to say anything.

While the Ragnar Relay was supposed to have been challenging, it was never supposed to have been deadly. But here we were, facing the sobering reality of the situation. We really didn't know much more details than that. There was a bit of a subdued ambience in the parking lot there amongst all the participants. I wondered who the runner was, if I'd run next to him/her before, if we had crossed paths during the race. This was, after all, a runner who had run Leg 11 with me, presumably.

(A day after the race, we found out that it was a participant who wasn't running at the time but simply handing out water to fellow teammates, although that isn't mentioned in this news report.)

I couldn't help but think that, if circumstances were different, it could easily have been any runner in that position...

But I choked back tears and tried not to focus on the negatives. We tried to get back to the task of seeing our runs through, as difficult as it was. Jorge's last run was a brisk 3.2 miles, and before I knew what happened, we were at the next Exchange Point, with the rest of Van One.

I took my vest off before I had this picture taken, so I didn't look like I was in a long-lost member of Tron. But I'd just run my second run and had run a total of 14.1 miles in the previous 11 hours or so, and physically I felt good.

This time, though, as we faced another brief amount of time before running our third and final set of legs, we didn't just feel like we needed some rest, we needed to get some sleep. And soon. The hard thing, though, was that the sun would come up soon.

And would daylight allow us to get some much-needed sleep?

Ragnar Relay, Part I: A Seven-Hour Orientation

I'm back home now, resting and recovering from the Ragnar Relay. I wanted to share with you my experience but didn't want to try and get everything into one post. So, in the spirit of the relay race, I'm dividing it up into three parts since we all ran three legs.

Ragnar Relay, Part I

We really had no idea what we were getting into. My brother Jesse and I drove out from Riverside early Friday morning, and during our three-hour drive to Las Vegas, we were a bit anxious and excited but there was no way we could have known what was in store for us.

By the time we arrived to the hotel where the rest of our team, the Desert Tortoises, were staying at, Van One had left. They were starting off the relay race and Van Two, of which we were a part of, wasn't going to head out until the early afternoon.

We went out, had breakfast, got our stuff ready, packed our van with our supplies and at around noon exactly, went out to Exchange Point 6. Now, an exchange point is where one runner's leg ends and the other begins, where the runners hand off the bracelet as well as the responsibility to keep the team moving forward.

Exchange Point 6 was where Van One would complete their first set of runs and where we would begin ours. Until we got to that place, the race didn't seem real, as strange as it sounds. I obviously prepared for it, got all my stuff together, trained for it and everything but it just didn't seem real until we were there with other teams, waiting for our first run to commence.


The sun was beating down on us, and while wasn't too hot (the temperatures were in the mid- to -low 80s), it certainly seemed hotter than that. We were prepared for our runs but again, didn't really know what it would be like. Still, we were quickly bonding as a unit.


Of our six runners, five are related. From left to right: Jon, a buddy of my uncle's; uncle Jorge, aunt Elvia, yours truly, brother Jesse and cousin Alex.

We waited for Van One, but their last runner was on the course so we knew we were close to starting. We were eager with anticipation.

Soon, Van One pulled up.
They were in good spirits, excited about having run their legs and waiting for Runner 6 to finish her leg. Soon, our entire team was up at the exchange and waiting for her. She got to the finish line soon enough...

... handed the bracelet off to Jon...

... and off Jon went.
That was it. Our part of the race was underway. It was about 2:15 p.m. on Friday afternoon. We didn't know it then, but we'd be running for seven hours, suffering, cheering, challenging and conquering.

Jon's run was a 5.6-mile run, which was the shortest of any of our first runs. While the sun was warm, it wasn't the hottest part of the day, so he got off easier than our second runner.

We let him run for about 10-15 minutes while we got some stuff from Van One before we took off after him. We saw where he was on the road, stopped just ahead and got out with water. He took some sips of a water bottle and kept along his path. We repeated this "leap-frogging" technique until we got to within a mile of the finish. Then, we went to Exchange Point 7, and it was Alex's turn. Jon pulled into the Exchange Point after about 45 minutes.

And off Alex went.

A little about Alex. He's 15 years old but in good shape. While he doesn't run regularly, he is a very active and determined kid - soccer is his sport of choice. He was the youngest of our entire group. His first and toughest task was to run an 8.6-mile run off the bat. We didn't expect him to run the whole thing in one shot - and he didn't - but we knew he would finish the run. We all had confidence in him and tried to motivate and cheer him on as much as possible.

The only thing that really dampened everyone's spirits was the sun. It was beating down on us by the time Alex took off, roughly about 3 p.m. or so. We leap-frogged him all the way to the end, giving him water to keep him hydrated, providing encouragement and making sure he was okay physically and emotionally.

An hour and 45 minutes later, Alex was pulling into Exchange Point 8.

He'd just completed what I considered the toughest leg of them all, but he paid the price.

When you combine the distance, the conditions of the road (a lot of loose gravel and dust and uneven asphalt along his route) as well as the dry heat of the Nevada desert, it was a grueling, hellish run. But the Ragnar didn't claim Alex. He conquered that part of it.

Jesse, however, wasn't as fortunate. About two miles into his 7.7-mile run, he said he felt a jolt of pain down his knee. He walked briefly, ran, walked, ran and continued this pattern. He insisted on running so we stayed closely on our leap-frogging. However, it was quite clear that he would not be able to finish the run so Jon ran his final three miles for him. Jesse was visibly upset, both over his knee pain and his inability to complete the race, but we all tried to encourage him and gave him some medicine for his knee pain. No shame in getting hurt, we all told him as we tried to keep him in good spirits.

As Jon finished the run, we prepared Elvia for her leg.

A bit about Elvia: she's in her late 30s, a mother of three, and had never run before in her life. Jorge (her brother) got her into running about three months ago, when he told her about the Ragnar Relay. He asked her if she would be willing to train for and participate in this race, and she instantly agreed. She went from not being able to run more than five minutes at once back in July to having the task of running legs of 6.1, 3.3 and 3.1 miles.

She was up for it.

Soon, she was off. Since it was after 5:30 p.m. when she started, she was required to wear a reflective vest and headlamp during her run, which explains her gear.

From the time she started to when she finished - she ran her six miles in about 1 hour, 10 minutes - day turned into night.

All the while she ran, though, I was mentally preparing myself. I was slated for a 7.3-mile run after her, and it was going to start at about 7 p.m. or so. I don't like running in the evenings or at night, but somehow that didn't matter this time. My team needed me, and I needed to do this. Everything else was secondary.

I prepared myself mentally, stretched, filled up my fuel belt, slung my iPod around my arm, taped up my nips, got my Gu ready and took deep breaths. I threw on the vest and headlamp (we had a spare set) and waited for Elvia to finish. I also took some of the markers we'd used to decorate the van to draw some inspriation on myself. On my shins, I drew a pair of Ts (Mrs. LB's name starts with T), on my left calf I drew a Y and on my right calf a K.

Funny, but when you take pictures of yourself wearing a reflective vest at night, you look like you belong in the movie Tron.

When I saw Elvia approaching, I knew it was show time. I couldn't let my team down, couldn't let myself down and knew I had to get through my run. I felt like Jon and Elvia had set a high bar with their runs and Alex had reached deep down to complete his run so I felt like I had to follow suit.

I grabbed the bracelet, slapped it on my wrist and off I went. Running with the headlamp wasn't bad; in fact, it helped because the road we were on would have been pitch black otherwise. We ran this entire course in the Valley of Fire State Park, near Lake Mead, so there weren't too many lights or anything - actually, none at all. The only times I saw lights were when cars passed by.

It was an eerie feeling, but I was enjoying it. When there were no other runners in front of me, and no cars on the road, it was just me and the stars. I was soaking up every second of it, just a magnificent and wonderful experience. It's times like that that I am so grateful I took up running. I could never have experienced something like that otherwise, and I am happy that I didn't cheat myself out of this opportunity just because I wasn't disciplined enough to put down the junk food and get off the couch.

Physically, I felt great during my run. I never felt any discomfort, never felt like I was struggling through any part of it, and remained focused on finishing. With a mile left, there was a sign saying "One Mile to Go" and I knew I was going to finish strong when I saw that.

It was quite motivating to see the Exchange Point, to see Jorge waiting for me to finish, to see the other Desert Tortoises there cheering me on. I was about 50 yards from the finish and I picked up my pace. I couldn't help it. But I heard footsteps. Someone was about to pass me. It actually wouldn't have been the first: about seven runnes passed me on my run but I didn't care. Many of them said "Good luck" or "Great night for a run" or something like that when they sped past. They had their pace, I had mine and that's that.

But when I was clsoe to the finish, my competitive spirit caught up to me. I sped up, felt the other runner speed up too, and then I stepped on it. I was in a dead sprint, running as fast as I could, and got to the finish before he did. I sent Jorge along on his 8.6-mile run. I finished my run of 7.34 miles in 1:11:09. Afterward, I tried to recover.

As I drank some chocolate milk and ate trail mix, Jorge was on our final run and we were trying to all prepare for the end of our first batch of runs.

Jorge sped through his run, finishing in about 1 hour, 15 minutes. He was the strongest runner of the bunch and did well to close out an overall strong effort from Van Two.

Exchange Point 12, where Jorge finished his run, was where we met up with Van One once more. They were waiting to go through their second set of runs. As Jorge passed the bracelet on to David (Runner 1), we felt a great sense of accomplishment. We'd done it. We'd gotten through our first set of runs, and the toughest of any set, without any major problems. Jesse's knee was still giving him fits but he was in good spirits, like the rest of us. About seven hours worth of running, a total of 44 miles, and some camarederie will do that to a team. Van One would hand off the bracelet sometime between 1:30-2 a.m. so we had some down time.

Still, as it approached 10 p.m. we wondered... how are we going to rest?