Relating, Ragnar, and Humble Pie

"Always remember that you are absolutely unique. 

Just like everyone else." -Margaret Mead

As a freshman in high school, I desperately wanted to be on the cross-country team. I told my dad, who seemed excited and encouraged me to go for it. When I got to practice, however, I was too shy to run! Recently homeschooled, and with a bad haircut, I just knew those tan, toned girls, with impossibly long legs, and even longer hair, would eat me for breakfast. And so I became... the worst.cheerleader.EVER. But, that's another blog. Scratch that. I'M NEVER WRITING THAT BLOG! ;)

Fast forward a little over a decade to me being in PT school. I finally found a way to run, I think my hair's a little better, and I've worked hard to remove all trace of homeschool, but it's still tempting to feel intimidated. In fact, if I let my mind wander into the land of "If only," I can get myself into a pretty good funk. Although recently, a weekend of running in the mountains, and something a fellow student shared really resonated with me, reminding me that  a) I'm not alone in my occasional feelings of inadequacy and b) We need other people to walk this road with us.

Thanks, Clif Bar for sponsoring the event.

Going into the weekend, I had planned to spend some time with friends who were running the Colorado Ragnar Relay Series, but I wasn't sure what to expect, for a couple of reasons. First, most of the team were members of a Crossfit gym, and while I think highly of their ability, I didn't know how that would translate into running. Second, the total distance covered is an impressive 196 miles, from Breckenridge to Aspen, but with a team of twelve, some of the legs are less than three miles. I wondered, was this event really about running? Well, on the flip side of the weekend, having experienced all that the race encompasses, I can emphatically say, No. The Ragnar Relay is not about running. It's about so much more, and I am genuinely a better person because I've experienced it.

Sneaking in a Sunday run
in Glenwood Springs!

 In spite of my skeptical outlook, my attitude alteration began before I even left Denver. It started with a class discussion, which segmented into us talking about our different backgrounds. As one girl shared that having spent a large portion of her childhood overseas, she struggled to feel at home in both America and Europe, I empathized with her longing to identify with others. Thinking about how lost I would feel without my running friends, I made a mental note about the importance of community, and left class excited for the next day's events! 

Though subconscious, listening to my fellow students set the stage for all I was about to observe at Ragnar. It started with breakfast. Because I was in class when the race started early Friday morning, I met up with half of the team about 7-ish Saturday morning. These guys were tired! They'd all been running for at least a portion of the night, snagging little to no sleep, either in the van, on designated gym mats at the local community center, or in sleeping bags on public lawns. (Given the potential for automatic sprinkler activity, the lawns are sleep at your own risk!) Exhaustion aside, I could tell this team, some strangers, and some friends, had already formed an incredible bond. Over pancakes, they excitedly shared stories and inside jokes, passing the butter and pouring coffee for each other. Their eyes showed a hint of optimism and elation, as they mentally and physically prepped for the remaining miles. Words of encouragement flowed freely throughout the meal, and then the runners hopped back in the van en route to the next checkpoint. 

Photo Credit: Sara S.

Arriving at our checkpoint, I wandered around, taking pictures and chatting it up with participants. It was fun to see the iconic white vans decked out with all kinds of witty phrases and silly pictures. Also, I loved seeing that all the teams displayed an outlook similar to mine. In all shapes and sizes, ages and genders, traveling from all over the nation, and representing dozens of occupational and athletic backgrounds, the Ragnar runners seemed to understand that they were there to contribute to something bigger than themselves. In the words of my favorite chemistry professor, "The excitement was palpable!" 

As I wandered, I decided I was really impressed with the organization of this event! Sure, there will always be a few logistical mishaps (the finisher badges didn't quite make it in time, so some participants will receive their medals in the mail), but overall, coordinating the pick up and drop off of thousands of runners (each team had detailed maps), making sure that each station had adequate parking for the team vans and spectator vehicles (I was driving along in my personal car, and NEVER had trouble finding additional spots for parking), arranging restrooms (with tp and hand sanitizer! Fancy!), aid stations, volunteers, first aid responders, food and clothing sponsors, etc. I have so much admiration for the race directors! 

Photo Credit: Pope

Photo Credit: Pope

 The last leg of the relay finally came sometime later in the afternoon on Saturday. It was one of the longer stretches, so the team found a spot on the side of a hill near the finish, and watched for their runner. I joined in the cheering for all the weary folks headed in to the finish, but we saved the loudest shouts for our own, and while he ascended the hill, two of the team ran down to pace him up. As the three passed, the other nine joined, their tempo increasing as they ran. With no member left behind, the whole group crossed the finish line. As a spectator, it was one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time, and I was so proud of all of my friends, both new and old.

Photo Credit: Dan C.

I guess if you have been running long enough, you might complain about the commercialism of the event. Trust me. I get it. I, too, got a little big for my britches, and had a poor outlook going into this weekend. I love small community events, running unorganized miles in the wilderness, and pooping in the woods, just as much as the next girl! ;) But the thing is, I have the capacity to do those things on my own, so I'm not going to preach to the choir, complaining about big names and big money taking over the sport. Ragnar rocked my world because I saw humans helping humans acknowledge their inadequacies, pushing past personal fears, limitations, loneliness, doubts, and physical plateaus. It's about a team of people accomplishing something unattainable on their own.  

Hats off to you, Ragnar Relay finishers. I hope you never stop running.

"...the first mile, the last mile, and every mile in between teaches us something about our teammates, our humanity and ourselves." 

-Ragnar Relay Website

Running is My Beige Space

I once read the blog of an accomplished interior designer who stressed the importance of neutral spaces for creative minds. Her observation held that inspiration is most easily sparked in the absence of stimulation, maintaining the belief that artists continually entertain new ideas, but seek a quiet medium for the best idea to flourish. Huh? In my mind, the creative would best appreciate vibrant spaces. However, after thinking about my own life, as a writer, runner, and graduate student, I’m inclined to agree with her!

For example, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by technology. In theory, the advancement of personal computers combined with the power of social media creates abundant resource for creative inspiration and success. Unfortunately, while I appreciate the effortless availability of information, I'm susceptible to “media bloat,” characterized by anxiety, irritability, and headaches. Ha! This is especially true as I explore the realm of blogging (Twitter and Instagram and Pinterest! Oh my!) and physical therapy. Regis requires DPT students to use tablets and smart phones. It’s fantastic, promoting best practice for both students and clinicians, although, it adds yet another dimension to my educational vertigo. :-/

So, what do we do? How do we maintain creativity and calm in the age of high-speed, information overload? Well, in the sage words of Stan Lee, Uncle Ben or FDR (who really knows who said that, right?), “with great power comes great responsibility.” Queue thoughts about running. Although I can’t permanently go offline, I do find moderation in running. Running is my beige space. It’s my calming detox, where I can filter and focus my thoughts. If I need to make a decision, I run; if I need to remember why I am doing what I am doing, I run; if I need to feel confident, I run; and it just keeps getting better. In fact, my writing stems from my running. I like writing about running because most of my thoughts grow while out on the road or trail. Hmm, what does calm look like for you? Care to share your secrets?

P.S. If you haven’t noticed, I decided to get with the program and use hyperlinks! Feel free to browse previous posts and see what I’ve done! ;)

I'm An Athlete

I read the news… on Facebook. Now, wait! If you’re different, don’t judge! It’s an easy way to spice up your newsfeed and read articles catered to your interests! ;) For example, thanks to Facebook, I was recently able to read something on The Atlantic’s page, referencing a previously published New York Times’ piece. There wasn’t anything too spectacular about the article, but it did get me thinking. 


I’m a mom. AND I’m driven. For years I thought the two were incompatible, so I wrestled with each parcel of my being, often feeling deflated and guilty. I still have moments of sensitivity, but I’m so much stronger today than I used to be (Did you hear I’m in grad school for the career of my dreams?!), and running is a huge part of that (Find out how my journey started).

Summer Fun!

I forgot my hood!

My newest babies!

Becoming a runner put me back in touch with an identity I mistakenly thought that motherhood had replaced. As a recreational runner, I am reacquainted with my athletic side, my social side, my playful side, my assertive side, my curious side, and on the list goes. I’m so thankful and proud to have rediscovered this portion of myself because it means I can share it with others--especially my kids. I can’t express how happy it makes me when I see them cheering for me from the sidelines. Or how incredibly good it feels when my kids ask, “Mommy, did you climb that mountain (pointing to Pikes Peak)?” “Well, yes, baby. Yes, I did.”

Of course, as a mom and graduate student, my running "career" looks a little different. I am still trying to figure out what balance looks like for me, and it's an evolving process. You know what, though? Ask any athlete, recreational or professional, and he or she will tell you that the phenomenon I'm describing is the express purpose of athleticism. To be an athlete means to work toward becoming your own best. That is why it doesn't matter if you're running a four minute mile or a fourteen minute mile. It’s about facing and challenging your own limits, not someone else’s limits.

If I can close with a little vulnerability, I’d just like to say that it hurts when people wrongly assume that ambitious women are the demise of families, and the effect on society is equally devastating. We need talented women in every facet of the workforce.  Gender differences aside, maintaining close relationships while doing anything else takes hard, hard work—just like most things of value take work. But if we’re all striving away at our individual hopes and dreams, or maybe we’re just trying to survive, where do we find the energy to tear each other down?

“Be kind; everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” –Unknown source