I Survived Ragnar SoCal 2013!!!!

Hello, dear readers!

This year’s Ragnar Relay was the freakin’ most torturous race I’ve ever done, but I survived!

For the past two years, I’ve run the Ragnar Del Sol, but this year, our team switched it up by doing So Cal, and it was horrendous-amazing.

Horrendous Factors:

The desert is flat… so there is no possible way to train for California’s hills

I tore my quad a little over a month ago, and couldn’t completely train for my longest distances

CA traffic sucks, so we couldn’t support our runners very well (my van obviously hates me because they didn’t stop for me at all!) 

The runners who sign up for SoCal seem to be real runners, whereas the ones at Del Sol are often just crazies who don’t have anything better to do for a weekend, so they were all really fast and no fun at all. Ragnar is all about decorating your van and covertly tagging other teams’ vans, acting like a teenager, cheering loudly for every runner you see, and every other stupid-jubilance you can imagine, but serious runners don’t do all of that as much, and they mostly just run and ignore their responsibility for bringing the fun.

I was running longer distances than I have in the past, so the other teams put real runners on my part of the course and they all ran past me… one girl passed me on every. single. leg. I ran.

It didn’t seem as hot as it was, so we had a case of dehydration that ended us up at the first-aid tent. There was also some vomiting by a couple of team members and a possible broken foot.

Joseph didn’t run!!!!!!!!! He was in my van for every other Ragnar I’ve run, and without him, I’m the only returning member of our inaugural 2011 van 2. Also, there was no one to sing loudly while I’m in the porta-potty

Amazing Factors:

I ran farther than I ever have before and feel like a real runner… 18 miles exceeds all reasonable expectations

I ran some freakin’ crazy steep hills and only lost a minute per mile (one of my hills was a dirt trail that was steeper than a 45 degree angle)

I felt a great sense of overcoming obstacles. My previous Ragnars went pretty smoothly and I didn’t have any excuse for not doing well. In this one, I had at least 4 admissible excuses, and yet, I triumphed!

I got to run past Angel Stadium!!!!!

I burned more than a half a pound of calories in less than two days

We had a truly excellent team… I’m not sure our previous teams would have made it, but everyone this year pulled their own weight and helped each other out.

Half of our team has run a previous Ragnar and close to half had run two previous Ragnars, so we were much better prepared than we’ve been before… there was a calm collectedness in our struggles that’s never been there.

BEACHES!!!! there were some GORGEOUS exchanges on this race

I don’t feel as terrible as I usually do. I usually struggle to walk after a race, but this time, I’m only slightly sore.

We raised over $10,000!!!!!! I still haven’t met my personal goal, and you should click here to view my runner profile and donate $25 to Open Doors Community School, please, but as a team, we were superhero support raisers!

 

The Ragnar Relay

Dear Readers,

I’m running the Ragnar Relay next month to raise $ for a community school, and I REALLY need help to reach my fundraising goal. Because I’m paying my own way for the race (as are all of the team’s runners), all of the $ you donate will go directly to Open Doors Community School and is tax deductible.

I have $700 more to raise in the next month, and am hoping you’ll help me out with a $25 donation.

Pretty, pretty Please… Please… PLEASE click on this link to check out my runner profile and make a donation.

If you aren’t sure what the Ragnar Relay is, here’s the DL:

It’s a 200 mile relay race (192.9 miles to be precise) . Our course runs from somewhere near L.A. to somewhere near San Diego (I’m not too knowledgeable about California geography). There are twelve members on our team, and we’ll each run three legs of the race. We divide up into two vans, and one van will always be racing, and the other will be resting until we finish the race. The vans drop each of their runners off and support them with water and enthusiastic cheering, and then meet them at their exchange points where the next runner takes over.

I am signed up to be runner #4, and my legs go as follows:

First Run                                                Second Run                             Third Run                       Total Distance

4.7 miles | Moderate

6.7 miles | Very Hard

6.6 miles | Easy

18 miles

So… I’m a little nervous because this is my longest Ragnar distance thus far, and it’s a pretty rough race even for runners who are responsible for shorter distances. Also, I tore my quad not so long ago, and haven’t been able to train as thoroughly as I’d like.

But… Ragnar is my favorite race of the year, and AZYP played such a crucial role in my foundations as a teacher, that I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And I’ll feel all the more hard-core when I overcome my body and stand triumphantly at the finish line!

Please consider helping me achieve this goal by sponsoring me with whatever amount you can spare.

Much love,

Ms. Leigh

That’s me handing off to Daniel at my last exchange last year.

 

Rim 2 Rim

English: view into Grand Canyon from South Rim, Arizona, USA Deutsch: Blick in den Grand Canyon vom Südrand, Arizona, USA Français : vue dans le Grand Canyon du bord sud, Arizona, États-Unis (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

About nine years ago, I hiked the Grand Canyon for the first time. For that trip, my mom and I went down the South Rim, camped at the bottom, hiked halfway back up the South Rim, camped again, and finally hiked out. We did a total of about 19 miles in three days.

A few months ago, I was invited to hike with some ladies I didn’t really know and we were going to do rim-to-rim in two days. That’s a total of more like 25 miles.

Now, doing anything with people I don’t know is SUPER stressful for me, but even more-so when it’s a physical activity. You see, if you compare me to most normal people, I’m really athletic, but I’ve also been around long enough to totally be schooled by people you’d never think have it in them. Also, having done the canyon before, I knew I could do the hike without worrying too much… so I didn’t train.

About two weeks before the hike, Amy the dentist, who had vouched for me with her friends and gotten me invited on the hike, started to worry. She did a couple of hikes that kicked her butt a little, and panicked about my lack of preparation, because she figured that if she’d been training and things were really difficult for her, then someone who didn’t train would have tons more trouble.
That’s not a horrible way to think about it, but her panic was unwarranted.

Still, her panic caused me to panic a little.

I knew that the rest of the group had done a bunch of hikes to prepare (about one a week for the past few months), and I started to wonder if I wasn’t going to be the weakest link.

Then we got in the canyon.

And I totally wasn’t the weakest link.

And it was a lovely hike.

If any of you are thinking about doing the canyon, I can’t stress enough that you should hike down the North Rim (and maybe stay at Phantom Ranch). The North Rim is SO much more beautiful than the South. It starts at a little higher elevation, and the trail is less touristy since most people only see the South Rim. Also, there’s a GORGEOUS waterfall about seven miles in. It’s called Ribbon Falls. (I’ll show you pictures in a later post). To get to the falls, you have to hike a little bit more than the 14.6 miles the trail already covers, but it’s definitely worth it. Also, once you get to the falls, you should go inside the cave. I know it’s scary, but I promise it’s safe. Three of us stood inside the cave at one time, and it was delightful.

Also, hiking from the North Rim, you drop into the canyon sooner and spend a fantastic time hiking along the canyon bottom, next to Bright Angel Creek, and it’s beautiful.

Phantom Ranch… also totally worth it.

If you stay at Phantom Ranch, you can cut the weight in your pack by an impressive amount. You can reserve meals there, and we had a steak dinner and a breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, etc… And we didn’t have to carry a tent or sleeping gear.

_________________________________

Hiking out went about as well as I expected. I tend to be pretty slow when I’m going uphill, and Bright Angel Trail is a little over nine miles, all uphill. Still, I was out in five and a half hours, and I’m not all that sore today.  A little yoga tonight should loosen things up nicely and all will be well.

However, amidst all of the grandeur, challenge, and joy, I also found some tragedy.

As I was hiking the last mile and a half out, I passed by an older lady who was really struggling. I was struggling too, and didn’t feel like I could stop too long to help, but she was obviously one of those people who started at the top that morning and meandered down a bit farther than she should have, so I paused long enough to make sure she had fluids and took a break, then I continued on, knowing that if she got into any real trouble, there’d be other people along the trail to help her out.

About five or ten minutes after I made it out of the canyon, I was sitting at the top, changing shoes and waiting for the other two girls in our group, who were about an hour behind me, and a helicopter flew over and headed into the canyon. I overheard some guys I’d been hiking with on-and-off say that their buddy had just texted to tell them that an elderly man he’d been hiking with had a heart attack.

A few minutes after that, the lady I’d passed on the trail made it out of the canyon and hurried over, immediately asking about the helicopter. She was worried about her husband because she had started out hiking with him, but had turned back thinking she wouldn’t be able to make it out if she kept going, and her husband continued on. He went out to a spot called Plateau Point, which is three miles, round-trip, in addition to the 4.5 miles he had to go down to get to the trail… so he had something like 12 miles of total hiking to go there and back, and there’s very little shade for a good part of it. His wife also mentioned that he had stints put in a few years back.

His wife really didn’t know what to do, and she didn’t know if it was him or not, so I rushed her up to the lodge and got on the phone with the park service people who didn’t want to give me any info… until they found out her name. They said they’d send a ranger out to talk with her, and she and I should just wait. I prayed with her and held her hand, and when the ranger got there, he confirmed that it was her husband. I walked her out to the ranger’s car, and he drove off with her.

And I couldn’t help but cry.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt empathy like that before, because I just couldn’t hold back the tears. All she could talk about while we were waiting was how they’d driven out from Tennessee and she wouldn’t even be able to drive back without him, because she didn’t know how to drive a stick shift. She said he’d wanted this to be his last hike into the canyon, because he knew he didn’t have many more hikes left in him.

And it was so horrible to think that a vacation altered the course of their lives, and people nearby kept on taking pictures and eating ice cream, but Velma might have to drive home in a car she couldn’t drive, without the man she loved.

 

*Update: Her husband died. Here’s the link to a short article about it.

 

The Ones You Can Hardly Leave Behind

Photo via Wikipedia commons

Sometimes, life makes me feel like I’m not learning anything. I start seeing myself as stuck, stationary, and, consequentially, superfluous.

This summer has not been one of those times.

For a good, long while, I’ve contemplated need.

Need for people. Need for people to be other than what they are. I oftentimes struggle through relationships because I don’t understand need, because I do my best not to need. On the flip side of that, I struggle with other people needing me, because I don’t understand why they think they should expect anything of me when I expect nothing of them.

*Now, of course this is oversimplifying things. This is categorizing me a bit too strictly, because there are, and have always been times, when I’ve needed others. I just know that I could have done a lot more needing and being needed in the past, and plan to do more of both of those in the future.*

Two Christmases ago, I spent my first holiday without family. My parents and sister (along with her husband and kiddos) went to North Carolina, and I didn’t quite have the money or desire to leave the desert, so we did things separately.

That was pretty scary. I had made plans with some friends, but I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if I was allowed to hang out all day, or maybe it would just fill a couple of hours and I’d be alone to fill the silence after that. I didn’t know if I’d have fun and want to stay the whole time, or be counting down the minutes until I could leave.

It ended up being a wonderful Christmas.

Then last year, I figured I’d spend half of the holiday days with family and half with friends. But, when Thanksgiving rolled around, I found out that family holidays weren’t what I thought they’d be, and I couldn’t rely on them… so I spent my first Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve with friends, and my second Christmas Day with them – all wonderful.

So as the year rolls forward and the upcoming seasons include busy schedules, family move, birthday parties, and holiday fun, I’m beginning to see my friends as benefactors of an inheritance I don’t deserve. They’ve given me tradition, affection, stability, and they’ve claimed me.

I’m also realizing that I need those benefactors. I need their provision for all of those things and more, which is SOOOOO scary.

As I was floating along in the Caribbean this summer, I missed them so much more than I wanted to, and when they picked me up at the airport, I couldn’t have been more shocked with affection. My holiday benefactors plus that one person who created and is my current home, picked me up and immediately supplied friendship and fun. I was tired and land-sick (from standing on dry land after getting used to floating on water), and I’d spent the entire day traveling and thinking about my bed, but I didn’t care about any of that, because I needed them no matter how late I had to stay up, because being with the people you need is more fulfilling than even sleep .

Then, this weekend, a few of us went to Flagstaff, and as we enjoyed the best meal of my life, one of the greatest views in the world, and walking in the rain, we also talked about returning soon, because one of our number was absent, and we needed him to be there to make the trip whole.

Such thoughts are foreign to me, but I’ve seen slow changes of heart that make me think differently about next year and the year after that. Just like with the cruise, I can’t hardly imagine leaving these people behind, and I know I’ll spend my thoughts enjoying where I’m at, but feeling a little incomplete going it without my closest benefactors. Cambodia is suddenly much too far away to go to alone. And when I get married and make babies, I need the friends who’ve provided for me as only family does.

Although every fear and practicality in me believes that these current thoughts and desires, my benefactors, and every good thing in life are only temporary, I’m starting to want and hope they’ll be forever.

I’m starting to think about putting down some roots and moving in across the street so our kids can ride bikes together. I know a heart doesn’t fully change overnight, and the thoughts I’m having are only inklings of possibility, but it’s nice to see myself growing up more than I ever expected to. It’s nice to begin to believe in the impossible.

 

The Appeal of Self-Martyrdom

Have you ever known a self-martyr?

I was writing in my journal a few minutes ago, and I ended the entry with this: “Abba, I think sometimes we martyr ourselves to prove that we love You.”

Do you think that’s true?

Do you ever choose the more difficult path because it’s more difficult? All things being equal, I’m not likely to choose the difficult path because I believe it’s more beautiful.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I… I took the one less-traveled by and that has made all the difference.”

Robert Frost was a wise man whose poetry touches my heart, but I wonder if this favorite poem of mine leads me to see beauty in struggle for the sake of struggle. The two roads being equal in all other ways, Frost’s speaker advises us to take the more difficult path.

As I look at my life right now, two roads diverge in a wood… but I’m contemplating the beauty of the one most frequently traveled. It isn’t less beautiful for being more widely traveled. It isn’t less glorious for being more widely traveled; it’s just a road I won’t have to bush-whack to traverse. It’s a road lined with traveling companions and rest stops along the way.

So… why am I such a snob as to envy the other road?

Why do I believe I’m worth more if I take the hard path?

Why is self-martyrdom so appealing?