RAGNAR! *kisses metal*

For the first time in my life, I've dedicated part of my waking hours to running as a form of enjoyment. Sure I've run many times in the past: Evading the cops at the shutdown Safeway warehouse in Butte, at the losing end of threats made by various high school sport coaches and of course from the needle whose intent was to sentence me to 17.5 years of child support. This was different though. I just ran to run. It was both the means and the end. Sort of a quick paced meditation if you will.

I was contacted by my Cousin that is susceptible to arm-triangles back in March about a relay race that he and 10 others had signed up for. They needed a twelfth person to complete the team. Having never been terribly excited about running, I needed more persuasion than "come all the way out here and run for us".

Arm-Triangle: You will be in the van full of sexy girls

Me: Sold!

At this time I was in Hamilton and working out on a regular basis, so I figured the transition to runner-me from elliptical-machine-me would be cake. Turns out the muscles are a touch different. And a mile is faaaaarrrrrr!

These initial running pains were not much of a hurtle until they sent me out to Madison WI for work. This is when I finally realized that I had been running in the desert. I know Hamilton looks nice and green, but it is the desert. Madison on the other hand is a touch moist. Even thinking about putting on my running shoes made me sweat. The actual running part was enough to leave me wondering if my balls would ever quit smelling of cheese rotting in a Louisiana swamp (I can't reach them myself with my nose, but I keep trying to get them as close as possible to a girl's nose. I'll report the findings when I get them).

Couple month's pass of normal life, and I'm finally on a plane to Seattle (Horizon Air w/ free booze. w00t b33r). Two girl I've know from previous visits come to get me at the airport and bring me to the pre-game pasta feed. Stopped by a cool vista on the way there.



We all get drunk (or maybe just ArmTri, Aye, Yae and me...) and call it a pretty early night. The next morning I get up around 10am. Aye, Yae and I get in the car and start to collect the other 3 runners that make up van 2 (the other van left at 5am...suckers). We head towards the Canadian border for about 2.5 hours to the first exchange and chill out at a park by the sound somewhere near Bellingham. We eventually took the slap-bracelet baton around 1 or 2 pm, and I finally started my first leg (I was runner 11 of 12) around 6 pm.

The first leg for me started out downhill through some ranch type homes with lillacs growing everywhere. The smell was awesome and my legs were more than fresh. It wound around for a while, and before mile 2 was complete (4.7 mile leg), I had already passed 3 people. This was an essential task, because in order to receive a Busch tall-boy at the baton pass, you needed to pass a runner. The next 2.7 miles did not share the same aromatic/visual pleasantries of the first 2 miles. I rounded a corner only to stare down a perfectly flat 2 mile straight away. Cones on the side of the road as far as the eye could see. The lack of digestibles in my stomach quickly turned into a side ache that was only exemplified by the growing smell of cow shit. And what is this other fine smell I’m catching slight whiffs of? The glorious olfactory sensations of road kill skunks. Ahhh…Drink. It. In.

I finished the first leg with 5 passes and I wasn’t passed at all. Got my Busch, passed the baton and prepared for more van riding nonsensicals. After Aye finished her leg we went and got some food then headed to the 3^rd exchange to wait for van 1. It was dark by this time, so we bedded down on some grass for a mini nap before the next runners showed up. The combination of street lights, people talking and my lack of sleeping bag didn’t allow me to catch any Zs, but I was able to get a badass Aye/Yae sandwich cuddle for about a half hour.

The night runs were fairly uneventful (because of the lack of light out in the woods at that hour of night) except for one small pit stop we made. Somewhere near an Indian casino we pulled off the road in order for me to get my naked Friday picture (even though it was already Saturday morning around 1am Pacific). I had two of the girls shine flashlights on me while another took a picture of me butt-ass nekid with my race number (105) in front of my junk. It was classy to say the least. After that pic we took another tribute picture for a friend that couldn’t make it of Aye, Yae, another girl and me. We all lined up in front of the car (for headlight lighting) for a group ass shot. I haven’t seen the pics yet, but I can assure you they are good.

My 2^nd leg started around 2:30 to 3:00 Saturday morning. It was a 6.2 mile “Hard” leg. Lots of hills and further than I think I have ever run at one time in my life. Since it was so dark out, the van would leapfrog the runner by a mile or two at a time just to insure the runner’s success.

I was kicking some ass on my run around mile 3:

Yae: Keev, how are you doing? Do you need anything?

Me (panting): NUDITY!

Aye: Fuck him…he’s fine.

Not only was I fine (minus the lack of breath and burning legs), I passed 9 people on that leg and still I hadn’t been passed. It was a kick ass leg for other reasons too. The entire run was along the sound and out in the woods. It was quiet enough to hear the waves the entire time, and the moon was full enough to run without a flashlight.

One more night run (Aye's) and then we take off to exchange 5. Yae is driving and I’m the navigator, so no sleep for us. We roll into a small town where there is a high school that has the gym floor set up with mats for the runners to sleep on. Sadly, someone opened a door that was still actively alarmed and the entire place was strobing and screaming at the top of its lungs. Mind you, I have an incredible ability to sleep through alarm clocks, but falling asleep to that sound is a completely different ball game. It just wasn’t going to happen.

We took the opportunity to go find a park and bed down in the grass. Yae was kind enough to share a cuddle and her sleeping bag, but once again sleep was not on our side. We would close our eyes just long enough to start drifting off…KAAAWWWWW!!! A fucking crow would just lose its mind. Not for any extended amount of time. Just long enough to startle us out of slumber. Then it was back to situation normal…tweet tweet tweet…zzzz….KAAAAAWWWW!!!! Damn you, you stupid ass bird! Harland Williams was right. Why do we need crow?

This continued long enough to keep us from any of that annoying REM sleep before runner 6 came trotting into the exchange. While our spirits were a touch hindered by the total lack of sleep, we still managed to enjoy our final leg of the relay. I even did the final leg in a sarong. Makes for some top notch nad ventilation. Got passed once (elite runner) and passed another. Final pass count: 15 passes, 1 pass.

The race ended for us in 26 hours (not bad for 189 miles). That put us 46^th out of 150 teams with an average pace of just over 8 minute miles. Pretty good for some booze-hounds with a running problem.

We jumped on a ferry and booked back to Seattle for a nap prior to our planned outing and boozing shenanigans. I was even one of the main pushers for this R&R prior to firing back up for evening drinking. What I didn’t realize is that I was about to get into all sorts of glorious sexual touching enjoyment. And while I didn’t receive that shuteye I was searching for, I did manage to release a firetruck’s worth of hormones into my body and that seems to produce a methamphetamine like alertness. Took a quick shower and I was ready to step up my drinking again. Well, not that dymatap tasting "energy drink" shit ArmTri tried to get me to drink.

The troops were rallied, the bars were patronized and we shut it all down at 2am. ArmTri and Aves had a mini battle of blackout bull run in the apartment that night and Yae and I were finally able to rest our weiry heads around 6am.

(speed finish)

Got up at 10am.

Breakfast at noon.

Hustle and Flow at 2pm.

To the airport at 6pm.

Flight delayed until 10:30pm.

Arrive in Bozeman 1am Monday morning.

To the office for work at 8am.

So from Friday morning to when I arrived in Bozeman late Sunday, I had managed to acquire roughly 6 hours of sleep. It’s amazing how little that matters to me when I’m having a great time. Good times, booze and drugs…that’s my anti-drug!