My Most Memorable Chasqui moment

I'm about to tell a story. If you've read a story of mine before, you know to buckle up now, cause it could get elaborate and wordy. If you haven't read a story of mine before, buckle up now, cause this could get elaborate and wordy.

You have been warned.

I went on a training run with Chasqui Nick and his dog Maverick on Saturday afternoon. A nice little 4-miler. Running with someone next to you the whole time is so much better than running alone. But this run was especially cool, not just cause Nick is a great friend, but because he is the reason of my most memorable Chasqui experience.

The following takes place during Ragnar Las Vegas, between 9 pm and 10 pm:

Van 1 was just starting its second leg of the race.

This particular part of the race was made quite interesting by the fact that we were running neck and neck with a team of people with whom I am very good friends. They called themselves Operation G-Sting. As soon as I noticed we were right with them, I told Chasqui Nick about them, the history I have with some of their team members and that I've known a few of them for nearly 15 years. At that point, he probably could have cared less.

Anyway, runner 1 from Operation G-Sting came into Exchange 13 about 30 seconds or so ahead of Chasqui Belinda. He handed off to my friend, Jon Poort. Nay, he's more than a friend; considering the amount of time I've known him and some of the things we've been through together, he's one of the best friends I've had. He was in my wedding line. He's danced the Jitterbug with my mom. He's stayed at the beach house and lost countless swim fins in the Pacific Ocean. Jon, or Yoni, is a great guy.

And if I know anything about Jon, it's that he's a competitor and an athlete. Nick was going to have a heck of a time catching him. Belinda comes charging in after an epic run out of Calville Bay in the pitch-blackness and hands off to Nick He takes off.

I don't know exactly how long it was, but it certainly didn't seem like it took any more than about 5 minutes for Nick to not only catch Jon, but pass him. This is where things got interesting.

As a quick side note, I've only really known Nick for about 5 or so months at this point. I know he used to run quite a bit and that he's pretty good at it. I have no idea about it mental toughness or competitive spirit. I learned a lot about it that night.

Upon getting passed, Jon glued himself to Nick's heels and it was very clear that Nick was not going to go anywhere without Jon. I mean he was close; for me, he was uncomfortably close. I still can't believe he never clipped Nick's heel. For the better part of nearly five miles this went on.

The first few times we stopped to cheer Nick on, I would politely cheer, "Come on guys! Lookin' good!" As we neared the end, however, I began to get annoyed at Jon's perseverance, and it became abundantly clear to me what he was going to do: If he was still on Nick's heels with 50 yards to go, he was going to sprint. And win.

With about 2 miles left, my cheers changed to, "Come on Nick! Drop his a$$!! DROP-HIM!!!

I have never seen someone move the way Nick was moving through the desert that night. Dude was h-a-u-l-i-n-g. If his face reflected pain, Jon's face and heavily labored breathing reflected more of it. His body had far exceeded any natural physical capacity he had to hang with Nick. His eyes fixated on Nick's back, now Jon's mind was telling his body to hang to the guy in front of him. It was all he could do to not get dropped.

The leg continued. Flat...climb...flat....climb...flat...climb. "That son of a gun is going to follow Nick to the end and then win the sprint finish." I was thinking in cycling terms as I told this to everyone in the van.

As the Chasquis roll, the van leaves the runner's side at the 1-mile-to-go mark and heads for the finish line. On this leg, the 1-mile mark rested at the foot of a final climb. We left Nick, hoping for the best.

The van got to the finish line and waited...and waited...and waited. Finally, a bobbing headlamp came up over the ridge. It was dark, but we could tell by its bounce, that it belonged to Nick, and it was alone - no headlamp shining behind it. Nick had fought his way up the final climb and Jon had bonked.

Not only was Nick moving at a blistering pace that night, but dude was NAILS when it came to mental toughness. His "win" on that leg set precedent for one of the best Ragnar nights ever.
After body-slamming his water bottle (which I hope becomes an A-Rod night-time run tradition), Aaron came flying into the chute like an out of control semi truck, Angel breezed through her run, I had one of my best Ragnar runs ever and McKay cruised through his trail run.

I'm not sure that he's convinced of it, but Nick killed it on this run, and we were all totally stoked for him.

Headstrong and cocksure, indeed.

I guess this wasn't as long as it could have been (that's what she said).

What is YOUR most memorable Ragnar moment??