Along with an approximate 15,000 other runners, our family took this challenge in honor of my younger sister's 2 year old son Jaylen who passed away in 2013. We organized a team (12 runners) called "Sunshine for Jaylen" and ran the annual Wasatch Back Ragnar Relay Race June 19-20th.
This was the second time I participated in an organized race. The first was when I was years old and tried to do a 5K with my dad and a few of my siblings. Because I was born with congenital heart disease and basically functioned on only a a single ventricle running a race was unrealistic. I only last .25 of a mile because of exhaustion. My broken heart couldn't do normal things. Maybe that's why I took comfort in making music.
This race was different. It's been almost 6 years since I received a heart transplant which has drastically changed how I feel. For nearly 36 years I felt like an old beat up truck until receiving a normal 4 chamber donor heart was like getting the keys to a porsche.
Although I feel amazing, running the relay still seemed insane. I was unsure of my abilities. There are no nerves connecting my brain to my donor heart, the pressure in my lungs is what tells my heart it's time to kick in and supply the body with more oxygenated blood flow. If I sprint, my heart has no idea what is happening. A slow work up like a JET is how I do it. If I stopped dramatically it takes three times as long as a normal person for my heart to slow down. So, like a Jet, I do a gradual descent.
I was assigned 3 separate sections to run termed legs. My first leg was a little over 6.5 miles on a dirt road down a mountain pass. Fortunately, I ran the first 4 miles and walked the rest at mid-day in 95 degree heat. My second leg was only 2 miles along the beautiful Echo reservoir by Coaville at 2:15am. It was very dark and my headlamp was extremely dim. Folks passing me had bright headlamps so I knew the direction to travel. Finally, my last leg, with cramped feet, was almost 3 miles over a brutal hill in Park City. It was more a steep hike with switch backs rather than a run. In fact, no one was running over that hill, not even several of the University of Utah field & track team. Eleven days earlier I had climbed Mount Olympus, which in and of itself, is a brutal climb from 5000 ft elevation to almost 10,000 in 4 miles. This was painful preparation, but a lot of fun.
Why do we do these things to torture our bodies? Because it's in the knowing we did something that seemed impossible. What seemed hard is now understood. What I understood is that I want to do this again!
Here is a recap. I highly encourage the impossible. It's extremely rewarding to exercise and have adventure with family and friends.
