Tribe. Found.
I've received a bunch of running medals in my day, but most of these are participation trophies and something to smile about when I stumble upon them while looking for something that's actually useful, like a corkscrew. A handful were truly earned ; a triumph of man versus himself, an overcoming of conditions so adverse that they literally changed my definition of bad weather. The first of these was Ragnar Appalachia in 2015. This event had 40 degree temps, two days of sideways rain, and the white shirt I was running in has a muddy waterline running diagonally across the chest from when I rounded a curve and ended up in a flash-flooded lake. The floor of the tent jiggled like a waterbed circa 1986 because the water table was, well, right under the tent. This event ran the full gamut of emotions- frustration, some practical survival, and downright elation when the sun came out at the very end of the event. People were ripping off soaked clothes, hats, and fleece and switc...