Finding a way to finish

NORTHWEST PASSAGE #1 (Yes, there will be others!)

We found out we were in second to last place early Saturday morning, and by mid-day, we’d embraced our penultimate place in the Northwest Passage Ragnar Relay.
So the offer took us by surprise.
As we prepared for the last legs Saturday afternoon, race officials offered us a way to finish earlier.
With just a handful of teams still on the course, they told us if we wanted to have two people run the same leg and then skip a leg, we would be perfectly legal.
“Isn’t that cheating?” Richard Jacroux (runner 9) blurted out while our team captain Ernie Neumann absorbed the offer. And then, almost immediately he answered the way the rest of the Steel Gumbies felt – without even consulting us.
“That wouldn’t be a real Ragnar,” he said. “We want to run it all.”
I was at the store trying to buy lunch that wouldn’t upset my stomach when this all went down. By the time I returned, we learned several other teams had taken the offer.
My first reaction came from that over-tired, need-a-shower, wish-I-was-finished part of me.
“That’s not fair,” I said (without stomping).
My thinking was that some of the legs were harder and longer than others. What if a team skipped the toughest, longest legs? Wasn’t the point to run every inch of those 184 miles?
Runners, however, are masters at not worrying about what other people do. When you’re out there training, no one knows if you go home early. When you do, you really only hurt yourself.
When we saw other teams “leap-frogging” us, we talked about it. Ultimately, we decided it would nag at us if we didn’t run the race the way it was designed.
It might be different, Ernie pointed out, if we were injured or having other problems. But our biggest concern was not making a time cut off and getting the dreaded DNF (did not finish).
As we made our way through the final legs, I gained a new appreciation for what volunteers do for those of us lucky enough to participate in the 24-hour – or in our case 31 hours – traveling party.
I shared my “it’s not fair” sentiment with a guy named Michael Frost. He was the radio operator assigned to follow the last few runners.
“You won’t believe this,” he said as we waited for one of my teammates who was running a particularly gnarly part of the course in the afternoon heat. “I used to ride bikes. I could ride 200 miles no problem…And then it all went away.”
An incurable illness, asthma and diabetes have rob him the ability to torture himself with the kind endurance races he used to LOVE.
“But I can do this,” he said of helping us have our experience. “I find it very uplifting to recognize that probably 99 percent of the individuals out there have a challenge. Yet they are still choosing to do what they’re doing.”
His job, he said, “was to find the last runner and follow them.”
When I told him that would probably be us because of the leap-frogging, he shrugged.
“Everyone solves their challenges differently,” he said. “Just enjoy this. While you have good health and you can do this, just enjoy it.”
Mike came in and handed off to Richard and we piled back into our mini-van.
Ernie had run a night run with a woman from one of the teams – We’ve got the runs. They had a runner drop out the week before the race, so they started with 11 runners. Injuries and running extra legs had taken a toll on them. Even after they skipped a leg, we passed them.
And yet, when I struggled up a hill in the heat, it was Ernie’s friend from the night leg, Ashley, offering me water.
“You’re doing so great,” she smiled.
Her kindness did provide me with a mental boost. It also got me thinking about what might make me quit. What if I had to run the rest the way because my teammate was hurt? What if I was hurt? I don’t know what it would take because I haven’t faced that challenge as Michael has.
After we crossed the finish line, we made our way to chairs and shade. And then when the announcer told us that the last team was arriving, the Steel Gumbies and one other team made their way to the finish line. We screamed and cheered and congratulated them on their win.
“This was our first time,” said Jenny Olson, Olympia, Washington. “It was tough. It was fun though getting to know people in a totally different way.”
“Did you ever consider just dropping out?” I asked.
Her smile widened as she watched her teammates climb down off the Ragnar van at the finish.
“No,” she said. “It was definitely not an option.”