Van life. For 24-hours this is our home.  

We eat, “sleep,” drive, navigate, laugh, sweat in the confines of this soccer mom minivan.  

At first it’s seems like a cute novelty for us New Yorkers, until it’s not.  Until you’d much rather be running, exhausted, rather than sit in it for another hour.  But it’s this unique environ that bonds us.  The shared experience of getting from one runner to the next and eating peanut butter out of a jar is a Ragnar right of passage.  

Now who drank my coconut water?