The Thing I Swore I Would Never Do

Remember when I promised you I would post about something I did that I swore I would never do?

Well, my friends...

I just ran the Colorado Ragnar.

(That picture depicts the exact moment when Scotty snuck up on me in the van and poked my butt with a muscle roller stick).

(Judo CHOP!)

I never had any intention - not a single ounce of desire - to run in Ragnar. Then one day, three weeks ago, Scotty came home and somewhat jokingly said we should go with his brother to Colorado to do Ragnar. Something overcame me, and I was like, "Okay. Let's do it."

It was one of those higher power sorta things because the money, which we didn't have, showed up in the form of a tuition refund check that very day, and the coordination for four days of childcare took less than five minutes to arrange.

Meant to be? I think so.

As Ragnar approached, I set some goals for myself:

1. To run at least one entire leg
2. To not swear

I don't really swear like a sailor, but I do throw out some mild profanity occasionally, and I warned my team mates that running might bring out the worst in me. I can say, with complete confidence, that I did not swear one single time.

Also? I ran the entirety of my first two legs and half of my third, so I pretty much rocked my goals.

(Can I get a woot, woot?)

I had two five-mile legs, and a 4.4 mile leg on mostly flat terrain. I'd never ran more than four miles, and I was able to run the two five-mile legs on the first day. I don't know what got into me!

Here I am during my first leg trying to get away from my brother-in-law who was trying to shove water and bananas in my face:

 

 Here is Van 1 right after our last runner came in:

  

And here we are at the finish line:

On our way to Colorado, we all received an e-mail saying that our medals hadn't arrived in time. I wasn't expecting anything at the finish line, but they had some generic medals with Ragnar stickers on them.

I felt like an outsider the entire time, but I had fun. I can't tell you how nice it was to be able to use a public bathroom after frequenting porta potties for two straight days. Oh, the wonder of a metal stall with a porcelain throne! I don't care how many tooshies have made contact, it is a beautiful thing!

(May I interject that I opened the porta potty door on a guy peeing? That was fun).

(Lock the door, folks!)

We made it home safely, and now I'm trying to remember how to live real life again. I thought I would come home with a renewed sense of responsibility for my home and family, but mostly I just want to lay on the couch and sip ice water while the children go WWE on each other.