My dearest Ragnar,
After our last date at Del Sol, I didn't know if I ever wanted to go out with you again. Perhaps it was lack of TP in the honey buckets, the unfortunate accident or the indigestion, but we just didn't click. I wasn't feeling the love and would have discarded you like a used piece of toilet paper in the honey buckets never to see you again if I hadn't already committed to you for Wasatch.
This date you had all your charm and fun that you had during our first three dates. The laughs and joy of running with your returned in full force. I have that pork chop look on my face again for you.
I enjoyed playing Ragnar Bingo with you and about hugged the man in a tutu when I found him. He was equally elated to hear that he helped me get RAGNAR. But where's my prize? I did text you and was told I was the first (but you probably tell that to all the girls) but where's my prize? Getting a response back from you was awesome. It became a huge joke in our van that I was going to report violators to you. "Text it in" I would yell joyously throughout the day and night. I was happy that I felt I could have constant communication with you. After all, isn't that what makes relationships successful, communication?
While you may not have cared about the amount of sleep I got keeping me up throughout the night, I could tell you cared a lot about my safety. You started out our date with a brief safety meeting, which I appreciated and agree with the new rules for our relationship. When you waived the orange flag with the Ragnar emblem, I died and went to heaven. I couldn't wait to get my flag and envisioned me marching proudly across the street waiving my flag. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered a simple, orange flag without the emblem and instead a silver stripe down the side. I felt cheap and used and became obsessed with exchanging it with some unsuspecting soul who you obviously liked more and gave them the real deal. Being cheated on the flag, I didn't feel as guilty giving you a phony credit card number. In the age of identity theft, writing my credit card number on a loose piece of paper collected by volunteers wasn't a risk I was willing to take. Love or not, a girl has her limitations. I would rather give you a nice crisp $10 bill and receive the money back when I return the special, non-emblemed safety flag.
Speaking of flags, it would have been really helpful if your volunteers had safety flags too (with the emblem preferably) to help runners cross the road. Instead, I was rightly scolded for not having a flag to get to the exchange on the other side of the road. (There must be a bad joke in there somewhere...why did the runner cross the road? To get to the Ragnar exchange, of course). The volunteer could have been walking runners across the road proudly waiving her flag instead of just standing there looking pretty while complaining how impossible the job was. Just a thought, how did the volunteers set up the station on the other side of the road to begin with? Did they cross the street without an orange flag? Report them! Text it in!
Despite all that you did for me, there is one time where the safety could be improved. Between legs 28 and 29, runners and traffic was going both ways. Since I'm all about the miles while I'm with you, I would have happily run through the adjoining neighborhood to avoid running on the road where the traffic was watching runners on both sides of the road. Crossing the bridge worrying about traffic coming towards me was a little scary. Even my driver on the way to the exchange told me to be careful in that section.
I was a tad bit jealous that I didn't get water, but I'm happy my friends talked enthusiastically about the water you gave them on the non-support legs. If we're going to continue our relationship, I suppose I'm glad that you care about my friends as much as you care about me. There's nothing worse than having a best friend not liking the boyfriend.
Running in the dark with you is a lot of fun. Wouldn't it be cool to have bibs with the numbers in reflective materials? This would help the support vans and volunteers to see the bib numbers in the dark.
At the end of our date I so wanted to meet up with my other friends and family and share my experiences from our date together. It was chaos trying to park and finding others. What about a friends and family section with posts and labeled with numbers 100, 200, 300, etc. I could tell my friends and family to meet in the section associated with my team number. It's much easier to say meet me at the 400 section rather than saying meet me at the treadmill, like I know if there will a be treadmill set up or where it will be. At least I think you love me more than those treadmill runners. That poor virtual runner, running (or walking) on a treadmill for all those miles without the scenery and laughs. Did they cross the street with a safety flag? NO? Text it in!
Your definition of easy needs to be reevaluated. So often it seems that the distance is a deciding factor. A three mile is easy and a 7 mile is very hard, regardless of the elevation change. That's not true on all the legs, but many of them. You should try running the "easy" 29 leg of 3 miles (which actually showed as 3.3 on my Garmin). After you run the hill and then another steep hill, then you can tell me how "easy" it was. . Sometimes your calculations on time to run a leg were way off. I about had a heart attack trying to even come close to the pace you expected me to do on hills. What do you think that I am super woman?
After our night together I was so looking forward to the hot pancake breakfast you promised me. I stayed up, running throughout the night for you, looking forward to the pancakes and all I got was a muffin?! I'll have you know the very next morning I got pancakes from someone else.
I know I am only one number, #483, out of the over 1000 teams (I saw a bib with 1024 on it) to you but you're my number one relay. While I'm hesitant to tell you I love you, I am considering taking you up on your offer for that special bling. I don't accept jewelery from just any smo on the street vying for my attention. I wonder if the saint and sinners medal would match the color of my eyes? If I became a sinner, would you still respect me in the morning?
With hugs and kisses,