9 years ago, I saw an ad come through Facebook for an event that promised endless vistas, tons of fun, physical activity, and bragging rights. Ragnar. The name alone made me feel brave and strong. I needed to know more.

A team of 12 runners split out over two vans running a total of 200 miles over the course of approximately 36 hours. Each runner is assigned three separate legs and there is always a runner on the course which means running through a day, a night, and a day. I was intrigued, excited, and frightened. I signed up immediately to captain a team.

That first year, I read blog post after blog post with pro-tips for running your first Ragnar Relay Race. I went to team captain meetings, I lurked on forums, and I watched hours of YouTube videos of teams on various Ragnar courses. None of which truly prepared me for the reality of leading a team through the rigors of a 200-mile relay. There’s no possible way to capture in a blog post the giddy euphoria of seeing your teammate hand off the infamous Ragnar slap bracelet to the next runner. It’s indescribable just how good spaghetti and meatballs tastes when you’re eating it in a high school gym, cooked by the PTA, at 1:30am, after you’ve just run 9 miles. Or the way your heart swells when you’re pretty sure you can’t run another step and then suddenly you see your entire van standing on the side of the road with a cold bottle of water and an already peeled satsuma. These are the moments that I wasn’t prepared for and that truly turned me into a believer in the power of Ragnar as the ultimate team bonding activity.

There’s something magical about sitting in a van with 5 of your co-workers, deeply uncomfortable, sweating vigorously, someone’s probably partially naked as they try to wriggle out of their sweaty sports bra and into a clean t-shirt, and another person is just desperately trying to take a nap. And knowing that there’s another van with 6 more of your coworkers doing the same thing. Some people might call it “trauma bonding” and that’s not wrong. But what’s the word or the term when it’s intentional trauma bonding. Like, dude. You signed up for this. Post-facto, the power of the bond continues; there’s greater ease and trust, the Ragnar nicknames live on in office banter, and the stories make other people want to join the adventure.

I’ve done Ragnar six times. SIX times I’ve organized packing lists, rented vans, assigned legs, packed coolers, organized team meetings, driven, run, not slept. I can’t wait to do it again. I can’t wait to laugh with and cheer and encourage and just absolutely adore the people I’m with while we intentionally torture ourselves. There’s nothing like it in the world.