Last weekend I survived Ragnar Trail Northwoods 2017.

What’s more, I didn’t just survive, I LOVED every minute of it.

Ragnar, for those of you who are newbies or are unfamiliar with the term (as I was just a few weeks ago), is a team adventure-style race. Originally done as a 200-mile road race with 12 people and 2 vans, Ragnars are extreme challenges that are not for those who are afraid of the dark, those who don’t like wearing sweaty running clothes for multiple days, and those who prefer a healthy dose of personal space. In short, they are not for uptight jerks.

I don’t generally consider myself an uptight jerk, so naturally, I adored Ragnar. A note about Ragnarians: they are the kindest, coolest badasses you will ever meet. And I don’t just think that because I am one now, I swear. Over the course of Ragnar weekend I saw the most uniquely cool tattoos, heard incredible words of caring and support, and witnessed some of the most tear-inducing acts of kindness ever. Ragnarians are drawn to this type of event because they want each day to be exceptional, and this was obviously reflected in all of the people I had the pleasure of dealing with, from race coordinators, to other teams, to my own teammates: 7 strangers who I had the pleasure of running, camping, and sweating with for 36 hours. (Shout out to Team “This Race Is In Tents!”).

Held in Nine Mile Forest just outside of Wausau, Ragnar Trail Northwoods was planned for September 22nd and 23rd, generally prime-fall-time for Wisconsin. You might expect some gorgeous fall days and maybe even some chilly nights. Wisconsin never fails to surprise though, and we were #blessed with the hottest days of 2017 as we prepared to run through the woods for two days straight. Oof.

Each member of our 8-person team ran the same distance: 3 loops that represented 3 different trails and levels of difficulty. There was the Green loop, an easy 3 (ish) miler on a single track, relatively flat trail. The Yellow loop, 4.6 miles of switchbacks that happily leaned on the downhill side. And lastly, there was the Red loop, 7.6 miles of rocks and roots that dared you to take your mind off the trail or your eyes off your feet for even a second.

And now, for my leg-by-leg official review of the Ragnar Trail Northwoods event.

GREEN LOOP: Finding my Inner WTF? (3.0 miles, though my GPS said 3.6)

The slogan for Ragnar Trail is “Finding your Inner Wild”. I bought right into this at first, imagining myself at peace in the woods, dashing down the trails, and gaining a strong sense of myself as I became one with nature. It only took about four minutes on the Green Trail for me to change that vision. I hereby declare the official slogan of my Green Loop Leg to be “Finding my Inner WTF”. As in, WTF is going on with this single track, root-infused, nightmare of a trail?

I was runner #1 for our team and I felt so lucky to be starting out on the easiest trail. This run actually turned out to be my most difficult for a variety of reasons. I was ill-prepared for trail running, having spent most of my time merely strolling on extra-wide, well-groomed, horse trails. This was a skinny trail with rocks, roots, and turns every few feet. It was 11:00 a.m. and I felt like I was melting in the 85 degree heat. The sun beat down on my face and I stumbled constantly. I started to question if I could even make it through this loop, much less the next 36 hours. It was not a high point.

I did what I often do when I struggle in races: I find a target. I latch onto one person and refuse to let them out of my sights. In this case, it was Pink Tank Top, a girl around my age who was just ahead of me on the trail. I kept behind her. When she ran, I ran. When she walked, I walked. We kept up in this manner for some time. I decided that this plan was going to work beautifully. I thought we might even be kindred spirits after we passed the One Mile Marker and she said “Oh My God, that’s it?”, and I grunted in agreement. Unfortunately, Pink Tank Top found her mojo before I found mine and proceeded to run farther and farther away from me. I was crushed.

I somehow made it through the miles, but not before feeling my face melting off and seeing the edges of my vision darken and blur, a sure sign that I was overheating and needed to get to water ASAP. I made it into the exchange tent and handed the belt and race number off to my teammate before bolting back to our campsite. In my overheated post-run haze, I somehow missed my entire team waiting for me. I’m not entirely sure how I found our campsite on my own, but I re-hydrated and tried to convince myself that the next two legs would be easier, even though they were marked as increasingly difficult.

RED LOOP: Working on My Night Moves (7.6 miles, though my GPS said 8)

I was most worried about this leg. Not only had I not really trained up to this mileage, I would be running this leg in the dark. I knew this trail was the most difficult technically, and I was not at all sure how I would feel about being out on it all by myself in the big, bad night. My teammates had come in earlier with not-very-complimentary things to say about this route. They said they had never seen anything like it before; it was more rock than anything else.

I have to say, they were right. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. And I loved every DAMN minute on that trail. Like the Green loop, much of this loop was single track trail: roots and rocks protruded at every turn, and it was impossible to take my eyes off the trail for even a second. Every time I dared to feel the least bit confident, the trail kept me humble by grabbing at my feet and threatening to throw me face-first to the ground. It was thrilling, to say the least.

Geared up with a handheld water bottle, two headlamps, and a knuckle light, I was much more prepared for this leg of my journey. I was further bolstered by the fact that the sun was long gone and the night had cooled considerably. Taking off down the trail, I knew I was in for something incredible.

I didn’t have to worry much about being alone. I was cheered by the near-constant presence of headlamps floating in the woods above or behind me on the trail, a sure sign that other Red loop runners were near. I couldn’t believe how different this loop felt than the Green loop. Not only was I feeling better physically, I was mentally enthralled. For me, one of the worst parts of road running is having to entertain myself with mental games. I am constantly trying to keep my brain busy so it doesn’t focus on just how many more miles or minutes I have to slog through. Out on the trail, the run WAS the mental game. I couldn’t lose focus, couldn’t get distracted for even a second or I would completely lose my footing and be toast, a pile of bones and flesh heaped over the boulders that popped up everywhere on this trail. It was relentless. I relished it.

The Red loop was actually over way too quickly for my liking. Not only did I put up a time that I felt proud of, I didn’t fall, didn’t lose hope, and I even passed a good number of fellow Ragnarians, further boosted each time by their greetings of “Great job, keep going!” I’ve never been prouder of a run.

YELLOW LOOP: Steady as it Switches (4.6 miles, though my GPS said 5.1)

After I finished my Red loop, I immediately hoovered down two pieces of the best sausage pizza I’ve ever eaten, stared intently at the incredible array of stars in the clear Wisconsin sky visible from our campsite, and treated myself to approximately 3.5 hours of sleep.

I woke up way too early and couldn’t get back to sleep, unnecessarily scared that I’d somehow miss my turn and enrage my teammates. At 6:30 a.m. I entered the Yellow loop, my third and final portion of our team’s combined 120-some miles. I was relieved by the frequent downhill-slants of this trail and was feeling pretty confident at this point.

As the sky lightened, I turned off my headlamp and watched the woods wake up around me. I saw fewer runners on this loop than on either of my other legs. I took in the leaves, the light, and the constant switching of the trail, weaving back and forth between the trees and making my way up and over numerous bike ridges. This leg was really pretty uneventful. It wasn’t overly warm, I was treated to some truly gorgeous warm yellow light from the rising sun, and I knew that I was almost done.

The Green loop broke me down and made me rethink everything I knew. The Red loop challenged me and kept me humble. The Yellow loop brought me home with gratitude. Even as I heard the burly dude behind me on the trail yelp “Fuck you, Ragnar! 4 miles, my ass!”, I smiled and ran on.

Final Thoughts and Recommendations:

Am I the greatest runner? As evidenced from the absence of my name among the ranks of fast Kenyans in the record books, I absolutely am not. There are a lot of times where I detest running and I wonder why I ever lace up my shoes. 

It should be noted that Ragnars may seem intimidating, but I (as a total amateur runner) found this experience to be remarkably accessible. I would wholeheartedly recommend the Ragnar Trail Northwoods, and I can’t wait for next year’s race.

I am ecstatic to discover that trail running is a totally different animal than road running. I can’t wait to get back out into the woods and to keep building on the lessons that Ragnar taught me, both about the trail and about myself.

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