Oh, the suspense! I know you all having been anxiously awaiting my second installment of the Ragnar Florida chronicles, right? Well, a little something called Thanksgiving happened, and with it went all my time and motivation to write a new post. But, alas, here I am.
PART TWOAfter my first leg, Van 2 quickly ate some BBQ chicken (which I declined because my stomach was feeling queasy) which the race provided. It looked and smelled delicious, but all my body was saying was, "Find the Port-o-Potties ASAP!" I finally found them and then had to wait for one to become vacant. This wait was pretty much the worst wait in my life. If that guy hadn't have gotten out of the port-o-potty when he did there would've been a serious mess to clean up right where I was standing. Just in the nick of time, sheesh! And thank goodness nature called
after my run. What if this would've happened during my 8.8 miler? I don't even want to think about it. I've never had a close call before during a race, and this was a close as I ever want to get.
Anyway, after Van 2 ate their chicken we hopped in the van and headed toward the next major exchange point, where Van 1 would hand off to us. It was fairly quiet and I managed to sneak in about 30 minutes of sleep on my blanket and tarp. Well, maybe not sleep, but "resting with my eyes closed." It was nice. I ate a turkey sandwich and then waited for Van 1 to finish their legs. Before we knew it Van 1 was there, and our Runner 7 (Steve) was off.
All of Van 2's seconds legs were located on the West Orange Trail, a paved trail that's sort of close to Orlando. Good for running, I suppose, but next time I'd rather run it during the daylight. Just sayin'. It was dark. Blindingly dark.

Waiting for Rich to hand off to me

Rich passing the slap bracelet to me
My second leg (3.6 miles) started at about 4 a.m. and like I said, it was dark. Pitch black. I could barely make out the trees on the side of the trail. My little headlamp felt useless. This is what was bad about running on the trail at night. No cars to light the roadway. Just you, your headlamp, and your thoughts. I don't know about you, but I get really freaked out by complete darkness. And let's not even talk about the fact that the portion of the trail my leg was on was not in the best of areas. I would classify it as ghetto. Scary. Trailer park houses and everything. And there was no one around me. No other runners in sight. Just me, my headlamp, and my thoughts. I kept imagining some mugger jumping out of the trees and raping me. I was THAT scared. Pretty sure my heart rate was at its max. I kept thinking, "I'm so easy to spot with this damn headlamp! And let's not even talk about my breathing. Pretty sure
that's loud enough to lead the mugger right to me." Maybe my thoughts can get carried away, but I was freaked. I even turned off my iPod so that I could hear my surroundings. I
never turn off my iPod. This is why I can't even watch scary movies.
I finally got to where I thought my leg was supposed to end, and I see an overpass. WTF? The leg map didn't say anything about an overpass. There were Ragnar signs marking the way, so I followed it up and over the overpass. And then my worst nightmare happened. I went the wrong way. After the overpass, the sign said "Turn Left" and so I did. But what the sign should've said was, "Turn left a full 180 degrees." I turned left only 90 degrees. So there I was, running in the wrong direction, in a ghetto neighborhood, and I didn't even realize it. Until I looked at my watch. Over 36 minutes had passed since I started my leg, and my leg was only 3.6 miles. That would put me at a 10:00 mile, and I
knew I was running faster than that. "Shit!" was my only thought. I turned around and started running back the other way until I eventually saw the exchange point up ahead. My team was surprised to see me there because the volunteers hadn't called out our team number yet. At this point, I was feeling pretty defeated, freaked out of my mind, and I was ready to be done with this leg. It sucked the life out of me. I ended up running about 4.6 miles, one mile longer than I was supposed to.
Overall, my team was very supportive, and they said it was no big deal, but at the time it
felt like a big deal to me. It took me about an hour to really collect myself and my thoughts. I was mainly mad at myself for going the wrong way, and totally freaked out about the dodgy neighborhood I had to run through. Thank goodness it was time to rest, though. I was exhausted.
We drove to the next major exchange point and I immediately laid down a tarp and curled myself like a burrito into my blanket and slept for two hours.
PART THREEVan 1 finished their legs at around 10:30/11:00 a.m. I can't really recall the exact time now. All I know is that Van 2 had to run through some killer hot heat in the middle of the day. No shade, open black roads, glaring sun, fatigued runners. Just one of the many reasons why running a Ragnar is no easy task. I was lucky enough to be the last runner in the van and by the time it was my turn to run again, the sun was starting to set and it wasn't as hot.

My LAST leg
My final leg started at about 3:45 p.m. and it was 7.6 miles. I was the final runner for our team, too, so I was looking for the finish line (aka Daytona Beach). Runner 11, Rich, made his way to the exchange point way faster than I expected so I didn't have time to go pee, which in hindsight, would've been nice. He handed off the slap bracelet to me and off I went.
It didn't take more than a minute or two before I realized my legs were tired. I was tired. I had already run almost 14 miles, had very little sleep, had not had enough nutrition, and I needed to pee. Damn. But I was determined to keep my 9:30 projected pace. De. Ter. Mined. About a half mile into my run I see a bridge. Not a small bridge, but a GINORMOUS bridge. "I thought this leg was supposed to be flat?!" Ahhhhhh! Of course, I should've prepared myself for this. I knew I was going to have to cross the Inter coastal, and of course, there would be a bridge. How I didn't put two and two together fails me. But like I said, I was determined. I ran up that bridge like it was nothing. Don't know where that strength came from, but I did it. One thing I noticed during the climb: "Geez, it's windy." Really windy. The water below me was really choppy, but at least the weather wasn't as hot as it had been for my team earlier in the day.

Running down the bridge. Notice the smile on my face. It was a good run.
Once I came to the top of the bridge I saw it. And by "it" I mean the ocean. It was the most beautiful sight. I got carried away in that moment and pumped my fist in the air. I'm pretty sure people in their cars probably gave me a funny look. Whatever. I was in the moment. "Holy crap! We've just run across the entire state of Florida! I'm running in Daytona Beach right now! We're almost done! I LOVE RUNNING!!" From there on out it was all happy thoughts, all the time. I still had over 6 miles to go, but that was it. Six miles before the finish line. Not just an exchange point, but
the finish line. The one and only finish line.
Just after the bridge I made a left and
holy head wind! My last 6 miles were straight into the wind. I didn't mind. At least it wasn't hot. My van stopped about every mile to give me support and water. I refused the water after a couple of miles because I really had to go pee. Amazingly, the only time I stopped to walk was at Mile 4 when I quickly ate my Gu and downed it with a some water, maybe 15 seconds total. I have no idea how I did this. The not walking, I mean. I'm the kind of runner who takes walk breaks. Especially if I'm running over 6 miles. And especially if I've already run over 14 miles. But I didn't. I felt tired, but good. Maybe it was because I knew my husband would be waiting at the finish line. Maybe I was still on a high from my "bridge moment." Whatever it was, I felt good.

And the smile continues.

Still smiling, even though you can't see it.
At about 7.3 miles my teammate, Rich, wanted to run with me to the finish line. He asked me if I was ready to run and I said yes. We picked up the pace, and in no time I saw the rest of my team, Van 1 included. And then I saw the bright orange finish line. I picked up the pace even more, and with the rest of my team, crossed the finish line. It was awesome. Awe. Some. And I saw my husband. And I gave him a big hug. And I got my huge medal. And we took pictures. And life was grand.

The Daytona Beach boardwalk. Almost done.

Go Team INTRIGUED BY FATIGUE!
I finished that leg in 1:16:something, about a 10:00 pace. A little slower than expected, but I was still happy with it.
My team finished the race in 33:04:15. We came in 69/113. Middle of the pack runners. I was happy with that.
And I ran a total of 21 miles with only 30 seconds or so of walking. Literally the best feeling ever.