The next time you're considering whether to enter yet another ho-hum Sunday-morning 5K, put away your credit card. There's a race out there that's more fun, more challenging and ultimately more satisfying. It will test your legs, your lungs and possibly your patience. It's a race that attracts runners who need a fix stronger than any free bagels and finisher's certificates can provide.
An overnight success
Ragnar is a 12-person team relay that goes nonstop for two days and one night. And whether you intend to compete or just finish, it's uniquely challenging. Many recreational runners run just three times a week - much less three times in 24 hours.
So who would think it's a good idea to cram into a van with 11 other sweaty athletes on a one-way, 200-mile footrace?
Two college guys (obviously). A pair of roommates organized the first Ragnar Relay in Utah in 2004. They had just watched their fathers race Hood To Coast in Portland, Ore. - the archetypal distance relay - and they were enamored by the team-based, overnight race.
Their first Ragnar drew just over 200 competitors. Now, they organize 15 races all over the United States. "The series just grew organically," spokesperson Matt Braun says, built on a "fanatic following."
Tennessee race director Leslie Keener says Ragnar relied on "grassroots, word-of-mouth marketing" until recently. Coordinators placed their first ad in Runner's World earlier this year - but with nearly 75,000 runners in 2012, it's clear that their business model was already working just fine.
That's because Ragnar, named for an adventurous 9th-century Norse Viking, isn't a race to set a personal fastest time or square off against rivals. It's a quirky organization that encourages running in costume, decorating team vans and celebrating the finish with 1,500 other runners. Fittingly, Ragnar's unofficial description is "a slumber party without sleep, pillows or deodorant."
Plus, each route has local flair. The Nov. 9-10 race is pure Tennessee: Runners visit Lynchburg, the home of Jack Daniel's, and cross the finish line to a live battle-of-the-bands soundtrack in Music City.
Up Suck Creek without a paddle
Relays in general are notoriously difficult, from organizing the carpool to conquering the course. For example, after Ragnar departs Coolidge Park, the second team members grab the slap-bracelet baton and hit the pavement, all the way up Suck Creek Road. And Monteagle Mountain awaits the Lucky No. 7 runners.
There are a few tricks to avoid getting stuck with the hardest legs. First, create or join a team on your own terms. Second, don't make it known that you're fleet of foot. Daniel Lucas, an eleventh-hour recruit, learned this lesson the hard way. "The only reason I signed up for this race is because a friend said, 'We have these spots to fill; do you want to run?'" Lucas says. "I hadn't looked at the fees or distances or anything."
He has since paid his entry ($120 per team member) and he isn't worried about the distances (he's running the StumpJump 50K on Oct. 6), but other struggles await. "The number one thing I have been warned about is the sleep deprivation," Lucas says. "You stink, you're in a van with a bunch of people who stink, and you're all tired.
"The running-at-night stuff complicates things, too," he adds. "You've gotta have headlamps and reflective vests."
Denny Marshall, the president of Scenic City Multisport, says his biggest challenge was being immobile for hours in between runs. "My leg, which was the last of the 12-man team, was down Monteagle in the cold without a warm-up," he recalls. "I did the run fine, but the next two legs hurt like hell."
Whitney Allison, another member of Marshall's team, calls Ragnar "the best running experience [she's] ever had" - even if she was part of a botched handoff. "When I was supposed to pass my slap bracelet to Stacey," Allison says, "she wasn't waiting for me. And you aren't allowed to leave the exchange to hunt down your next runner."
When other runners finally found their van (thanks to vivid descriptions of the decorations), Allison had no trouble identifying the problem. "Everyone in the van, including Stacey and the driver, was passed out asleep."
Relays: Gaining steam
Chattanooga, there's a relative newcomer to the relay scene. The Southern Odyssey Relay, in its third year, will take entrants from Atlanta, past the Chattahoochee
National Forest, to Chickamauga and back south to Kennesaw. The course is a Civil War buff's dream: It snakes through the Chickamauga Battlefield and follows part of the Great Locomotive Chase of 1862.
Stokely Weinberg, a team captain from the Atlanta Track Club, is excited to make his first foray into relay running. "I've only done traditional races, so it'll be a good break from the usual," he says.
As the team leader, it's Weinberg's responsibility to make sure his runners are prepared. "It'll be a learning experience the first time, that's for sure," he says. "Luckily they provide a pretty good breakdown of the things they require, and a list of things they recommend you have."
Some of the recommendations? Walkie-talkies, pepper spray and, of course, Vaseline - even though the average 11-minute-per-mile pace isn't exactly considered blistering.(Yes, that was a blatant running pun - of which Ragnar and Southern Odyssey would both surely approve.)