Bookin' It: Best Books For The Endurance Athlete On Your Gift List

I've been wanting to make a post like this for a while, and what better time than going into the holiday gift-giving season? I'm a voracious reader and have enjoyed a lot of books about running, or books of particular interest to those who endure. Here is a list of some books I have greatly enjoyed, along with Amazon links so you can find out more.

Endure: Mind, Body, and the Curiously Elastic Limits of Human Performance, by Alex Hutchinson. This book comprehensively explores all facets of human athletic endurance, both mental and physical. It is fascinating.

Off Course: Inside the Mad, Muddy World of Obstacle Course Racing, by Erin Beresini. This is both a history of the sport of OCR as well as a very cool personal story of the author's quest to complete the first ever Spartan Ultra Beast while recovering from severe tendonitis.

Blind Descent: The Quest to Discover the Deepest Cave On Earth, by James M. Tabor. Climbing Everest gets all the attention, but could you do it backwards? In the dark? With the very real risk of drowning? And what happens if you fall into a chasm and can't be lifted out?

Breaking BUD/S: How Regular Guys Can Become Navy SEALS, by D.H. Xavier. Some of the language in this book is problematic (anti-gay slurs), but the meat of it is good: what does it take to get through BUD/S and be one of the most elite warriors in the world? Surprise, it's mostly mental.

The Long Walk, by Stephen King. The only novel on my list, it's a dystopian story about 100 teenagers participating in the ultimate endurance event where only the last man (kid) standing lives.

Iron War: Dave Scott, Mark Allen, and the Greatest Race Ever Run, by Matt Fitzgerald. The amazing tale of the most badass Ironman World Championship of all time.

The Comeback: Greg LeMond, the True King of American Cycling, and a Legendary Tour de France, by Daniel de Vise. Learn more about the Tour in general and the greatest non-doping cyclist of all time in particular.

Arnold: The Education of a Bodybuilder, by Arnold Schwarzenegger. You will learn the value of work ethic. When everyone else would do 10 reps, Arnold would do 12.

Race Recap: Frosty 5K

Frosty 5K 12/8/18 Cedar Falls, IA

Weather: 20 degrees, cloudy, calm winds
Terrain: roads and recreation trails

Distance: 5K

I decided to attempt a 5K PR to finish out a great 2018 season. The last time I'd attempted to PR at 5K was in spring 2007, so you can plainly see that I'm not exactly built for speed, but I had an ambitious goal of running in under 30 minutes and I wanted to see if I could do it. Most of my athletic endeavors are "hey, let's see if I can do ____," so this fit right in. The race had packet pickup optional the day before so I took advantage of that, and realized there are no timing devices or numbers on the bibs. My achievement, whatever it was, would be solely personal.

Before the race we were welcome to hang out in a local mega-church, which was warm and had plenty of space to hang coats, so I wouldn't have to schlep my car keys on the run. The rag-tag group of maybe 150 racers went out and got underway. The roads would be open to traffic but this didn't end up being a problem. We only spent the first mile and the last half mile on public roads, and there were hardly any cars (cops directed traffic at intersections, which helped immensely). There were lightly rolling hills but nothing that I couldn't easily run. Focused on pushing the pace the entire time and trying to stay relaxed with my breathing, and it worked well. There were no mile markers but I knew I was on pace the entire time. Fortunately I am very familiar with the area in this local race.

Crossed the finish line in 29:21, well under my 30-minute goal. Got a medal, too! The post-race spread in the church was delightful. Cookies, cupcakes and bagels, along with cocoa and coffee. Having a warm place to stretch makes a difference.

Pros:

-Indoor pre- and post-race. For a winter race this is an incredible plus.
-Lots of little surprising perks. Most of this was because of the Holiday Hoopla event it's affiliated with, but there were door prizes and a photo booth (and Santa pics).
-Finisher medal for a 5K. Yes please.

Cons:

-Bare bones. If you are the sort who needs a water stop for a 5K, bring your own. Fortunately I didn't require water or a bathroom, although there was a public restroom at the halfway point.
-No timing. I was surprised by this, since it was put on by a company with "timing" in its name.
-Shirt is enormous. I got a medium and am swimming in it. On the plus side, the sleeves are long enough for gangly me.

Race Grade: B+. Cute little minimalist race with nice unique perks.

Off-Season? More Like AWE-Season, Amiright?!

As in "awesome!" AM I RIGHT?

Okay, so maybe it's not awesome for everyone. But I love me a good off-season. I always make a list and formulate my goals for both the off-season and the next year in general. First, define "off-season." This is the time in the winter when races are either none, or few and far between. For me this year, this is December through April. I have two races in this time set up: the first is a 5K road race that I will be doing this upcoming Saturday. The second (well, and third) are the Abominable Snow Race, where I will do both the long and short courses on the same day.

My off-season goals are both specific and general, and are as follows:

1) run this upcoming 5K as quickly as possible, ideally in under 30 minutes (which would be about a 3-minute PR over the last time I seriously attempted a 5K, which to be fair was almost 12 years ago)

2) continue to develop my cardio endurance and speed, building on the foundation I have established. To that end, I plan to run approximately a half-marathon distance every other week. In the words of RuPaul, if you STAY ready, you ain't got to GET ready. My goal for 2019 is to go under 2:20 for an official half marathon. I'm about 9 minutes away from that right now.

3) develop grip strength. To that end, I am participating in the December Dead Hang challenge that I saw on Instagram. On December 1, I did a 1-minute hang. Today, 1:10. You add 10 seconds a day the entire month until the last day is a ridiculous 6 minutes, which will definitely not go flawlessly. But no matter how many sections I need to break it into, it will help my grip immensely.

4) improve flexibility. Now that my weird collarbone injury is getting better, I can actually participate in hot yoga again, and I am pleased to report that not only did I not lose any flexibility in my off time, I have improved it. I want to continue this trend until by the end of 2019 I can do "an ugly split." This is the 2019 goal I am least confident about achieving.

5) go from 2 chin-ups to 4. This would be just great.

Note that these goals are all actually objectives. They are actions that I can take that will directly create a positive outcome. Off-season is a fantastic opportunity to shore up your weaknesses, and you should seize it! If you have to take workouts indoors due to weather, so be it. Find binge-worthy shows and specials on Netflix and get on that treadmill, gurrrl. Or boy.

Race Recap: Beat the Blerch Virtual Half Marathon

Beat the Blerch Virtual Half Marathon 11/1/18 Cedar Falls, IA

Weather: 40 degrees, sunny
Terrain: Recreation trails and some sidewalks

Distance: 13.1 miles

A recap for a virtual race? Why not? This will be somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Essentially, I was my own race director. Any complaints or constructive compliments (tm The Office) will be directed mostly toward myself.

To start: the kit, made by the guy who does The Oatmeal online comics and featuring "the blerch," is awesome. There is a tech-fabric t-shirt, a medal (with a little door that opens up to show the food inside the Blerch's stomach), a stress ball, sunglasses, and a sticker. At $50 it's a bit pricey, but what you get it very cool and I like supporting The Oatmeal. The kit, as far as virtual race kits go, gets an A from me.

The rest of the race experience is entirely up to me as the end consumer, so here we go. I decided to start and end from the most logical place: my house. It took me a (sadly) long time to map out exactly 13.1 miles in a nice tidy loop, trying to avoid more wooded trails that would have too many leaves and bits of detritus for me to trip over or roll my ankle on. Once I had finally settled on a course, I waited for a beautiful Thursday where the weather was fine, which happened to be after three consecutive days of hard workouts. OH WELL, let's see how this goes!

The first couple miles were largely downhill, since I live in a high part of town. I tried not to think about how I would then have to go uphill for the last couple of miles. (What idiot designed this course?) There was a heated bathroom around mile 4, which was brilliant. Water stops were not a problem, as I had my Camelbak, but the on-course nutrition was gross. I had these Clif Bloks from my Spartan Beast that I'd never eaten. Turns out they taste like someone made strawberry Gushers with a handful of household dust, but they worked, dammit. I had plenty of energy. There were not many folks out on the course that day and ZERO spectators, except for the lady who was smoking outside the gas station at mile 11. But I was able to keep up a decent jogging pace almost the whole time, only walking a few steep uphill portions for a total of maybe 5 minutes of the total race time. 

I'd never run for over 2 hours before, so the last couple miles uphill featured some abysmal posture. But I was overall very pleasantly surprised with how much of an effort I was able to put out after doing spin classes on Monday and Wednesday prior. My pacing was even and I crossed "the finish line" in 2:30 flat. Considering my previous half marathon PR was 2:41 and change, I was totally thrilled. The post-race food spread was the greatest I'd ever seen: Panera mac and cheese and a Diet Pepsi. Great work, Race Director!

Pros:

-Swag. What a great kit.

-Race was very uncrowded and low-key.

-I knew every inch of the course in advance.

Cons:

-No mile markers. What laziness.

-No spectators or fellow participants. Had to provide own "jush."

-Hard for a virtual race to feel "official." But I'm calling that a PR, dammit.

Race Grade: A-. The cons of it "not being an actual race" were overshadowed by how freakin' awesome I did and how delicious that lunch was afterward. Choosing your own post-race spread: highly recommended.

(Mis)Adventures in Customer Service

As a person who has done a LOT of races (my road race count is over 60, plus about 10 OCRs), I have a pretty good sense of how things work. I don't usually have a lot of questions or complaints. If there is a dreadnought roving photographer (see previous entry), I know better than to complain or ask where the hell the pictures are. I understand the concept of "no refunds" and such.

That said, there are some times when one needs to complain. Or at least, needs to ask clarifying questions. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. In these situations, it is important for race directors or their peons to remember the Golden Rule of customer service. No, it's not "the customer is always right," because that is a load of horse crap. It's "do not ignore your customer." Nothing chaps my 'nads more than being totally ignored by the powers that be when I ask what should be a very basic question.

Here are a few examples of recent customer-service-adjacent interactions that I have had with race staff, from "great" to "WTF."

GREAT Customer Service: The Abominable Snow Race

I was a bit nervous about this one because they had to change the location and date of the race after registration started. Then I became even more nervous when they switched from a two-day event (I'd signed up for both races) to a one-day event. But shortly after I went all "whaaaaat is going on here" on Facebook, the race director messaged me his personal phone number and asked me to call him. We had a lovely conversation, all my questions and concerns were answered to my satisfaction, and I gained critical understanding of what had caused all these crazy circumstances to pop up in the first place.

Lesson learned: most customers will "get it" if given a chance. Promptly and honestly addressing issues goes a long way.

HIT-OR-MISS Customer Service: Spartan Race

Generally there are few issues that come up with Spartan events. They are a big company and have this shit down, for the most part. But Spartan is (in)famously bad at dealing with weather. They tend to not provide good updates for racers, who are stuck in their cars in the parking lot with little to no cell service to even read event Tweets (if Spartan can be bothered to post them). In the immediate aftermath of Spartan Minnesota's afternoon cancellation, I was pretty annoyed and sent them messages on Facebook (their seemingly-preferred method of communication) which were basically responded to with "we DID update you, you are wrong, suck it." I wrote back after a week and tried to remain calm and specific with "my demands," which were essentially to have another shot at finishing a Spartan Sprint (I gave a specific race that I wanted to do, also). Their response was a surprising but welcome "of course! Here's a code!"

Lesson learned: there are often teams of customer-service agents and you might get a bad one on your initial inquiry. Try again until someone reasonable answers. And remain calm. No need to write F-bombs to these folks who probably don't get paid NEARLY enough.

TERRIBLE Customer Service: Terrain Race

Terrain Race has famously bad customer service, so I wasn't expecting much. I honestly wasn't planning to complain at all about the fairly minor issues I had with Terrain Race. But then I noticed a lot of people were pissed that there were no results or pictures posted from their events. And I noticed that there hadn't been a photographer at the Oshkosh race that I did, or if there was I didn't see him/her. So it became a matter of principle for me to message them and ask "was there a photographer there? I understand if the pics take a while to upload, but just be straight with me, was there even a photographer?" I have now asked this question of Terrain Race on FIVE separate occasions over the last several weeks. I got a response once, at around attempt #3, of "we will look into it." Every other communication I've had with the race has been ignored.

Lesson learned: DON'T DO TERRAIN RACES EVER AGAIN. Photos are a relatively minor thing to complain about, and I was just asking if they had a photographer THERE, I wasn't even demanding that they post the pics immediately or complaining that there weren't pictures of me. If a race cannot answer a very basic question, keep them off your schedule.

And because it must be said, the overall lesson learned is that good customer service will get a race return customers and great word-of-mouth. Bad customer service will kill a brand. Put your money where the good race directors are, folks!

Roving Photographers: THE WORST IDEA EVER

Sometimes I sign up for a race that claims to have photos on the course, but then it turns out that these photos are taking by a "roving photographer." This is a lone individual who trots about the course and takes pictures of several different obstacles, or trails, or intersections, or whatever the hell they end up taking pictures of. Because you guys, they NEVER end up taking pictures of me. Never.

I have gotten screwed over by roving photographers at every single race that has "boasted" them this year. Gladiator Assault Challenge. Conquer the Gauntlet. The Runner's Flat Fall Endurance Festival. Not one photo at any of these joints. And it is because the concept is flawed. A roving photographer will see maybe 10% of the participants with all that bouncing around. They'll get a variety of pictures, but those pictures are not useful to anyone except the lucky few who end up in them. Normally if you are in an early heat, you are far more likely to get pictures. The road race equivalent of this is, if you are winning the race or close to it, you will get pictures, and if you aren't, you're screwed. Even when I SEE a roving photographer, the odds of them taking a picture of me and/or posting it on the internet are demonstrably zero.

This blog post is not so much advice for anyone who is racing at an event with a roving photographer (I have no clue how to get a photo out of them). I guess if you happen to see one, specifically ASK them to take your picture. Because it's not intuitive for some of these folks, bless their hearts. (At Conquer the Gauntlet I ran right past a photographer who said "great job!" but didn't lift his camera up. AYFKM?) My advice is for race directors who are thinking about going this route: don't. If you can only afford one photographer, plant them somewhere specific (like one fun obstacle, or the finish line) and have them freakin' stay there and take everybody's picture.

And while I'm at it, offer the pictures for free. The fact that Spartan has free pictures is not only a nice customer perk, it is brilliant marketing. Their customers post the photos and other potential customers will see them and think "wow, that looks fun! I should do that!" Meanwhile lots of smaller OCRs and every single road race I've ever done charges a ludicrous sum of money for event photos. Talk about a missed opportunity.

On a related but slightly different note, Terrain Race Oshkosh promised photographers and I did not see a single one on the course, and I ran that thing three times and started in an early heat. The official Terrain Race Facebook page has barely responded to my inquiry about whether they even HAD a photographer on the course. Terrain Race: get your shit together.

Now that I have ranted about course photography, I promise to get back to regularly scheduled programming soon. I'm finally on the mend from my collarbone-area injury and have been running great 6-mile training runs. The only "race" remaining this fall is a digital half marathon Beat The Blerch that I can run any time I want. Maybe on Thanksgiving. Gobble gobble.

Race Recap: The Runner's Flat Fall Endurance Festival

The Runner's Flat Fall Endurance Festival 10/13/18 Cedar Falls, IA

Weather: 35-40 degrees and breezy
Terrain: (Mostly) gravel roads, rolling hills

Distance: 25K (also had 50K and 10K options)

I decided to finish my 2018 race season with a running event that was extremely local and low-pressure. I've been working on my trail running all year and figured, what a great opportunity to test myself! Unfortunately, Mother Nature has had a really bitchy month, and the regular route for this race was totally underwater. The show must go on, and the race director found a new route that took us well north of the super-high river on rural gravel roads. After some debate, I chose to wear my trail shoes instead of road shoes. Game on.

This race was teeny tiny and therefore the logistics were fairly easy. Parking was not a problem, with an easy 30-second walk to the start line from my vehicle. The way this worked was the 50K folks started at 7 AM, the 25K (including me) at 8 AM, and the 10K at 9 AM. We started right on time and ran out on concrete trails and roads for about 1.5 miles until the gravel started. I was immediately glad that I chose trail shoes, as the rocky gravel was a bit of an ankle-breaker. Throughout the race my knees and hip flexors would progressively start hurting more and more from all the uneven rocks. There were no mile markers and, it turns out, no bathrooms on the course. Thank goodness I was in dead-last place the entire time (spoiler alert? LOL) so I just went in the ditch when the time came.

The course was out and back and there were two aid stations that we passed a total of four times. These aid stations were the most freakin' stocked masterpieces I've ever seen in my days. There were no fewer than FOUR beverage options, and lots of different foods - sweet, salty, starchy, you name it. It was basically Ironman aid stations. So luxurious. If they'd stuck a port-a-john at each station I would have been in heaven. I was able to run the entire way out to the turnaround, then on the way back I hit the headwind. UFFDA. My knees were like "SEE YA" and just straight-up left the premises. I had to walk a lot of the second half, which was okay with me. I was pleased to see that despite having some lousy training in the past few weeks (my shoulder is injured still), and terrible pre-race nutrition (i.e. several pina coladas on vacation), my general fitness was still pretty strong, and my cardio was awesome.

A word about my fellow participants: they were GREAT. Almost everyone said "good job!" to my slow butt out on the course. Even the first-place 25K finisher, who was a lady (yay, girl power!) and the first-place 50K guy (who caught me on the way back, around my mile 8.5). Everyone was super nice and this race clearly attracts that "crazy trail runner" element that lends itself to a lot of camaraderie.

The volunteers at this race were all very friendly and encouraging, too. At mile 14.5 I was offered a fireball shot by the volunteer at the intersection, to which I said "REALLY?" and she said "REALLY!" So of course I did it. It made my belly a lot warmer. Rounded the final corner to cheers and finished in about 3:18, which was about 15 minutes slower than the second-to-last finisher. But we all know I am not a stranger to last place, and I really don't mind bringing up the rear, especially in an out-and-back. And there were fewer than 50 finishers, anyway, so being last place isn't as tragic as usual ;)

After the race we had to travel a bit to a local beer garden to get our finisher prize of a pint glass, which we could use to get a free beer (I had passionfruit, it was incredible). We were served a free lunch of chili and cheese bread, which was delicious. There were door prizes handed out after the awards ceremony as well. Doing this race basically requires you to commit to the post-race lunch to get your full finisher benefits, so keep that in mind if you sign up.

Pros:

-People. Everyone was so nice.
-Aid stations were totally pimped out.
-Pint glass instead of a medal. Practical and useful.

Cons:

-Needed bathrooms, for sure. The ditch worked in a pinch, but I do like a bathroom on occasion.
-No mile markers. It turned out okay, but I'd have liked them.
-Course wasn't super inspired, but they had to work with what was available and not 6 feet underwater at the time, so I'm not upset about it.

Race Grade: B. Food during and after the race is unrivaled, but a fairly minimalist event.

Important Staph Meeting

I considered myself fairly well-versed in the fine art of obstacle course racing. After my recent Beast, I was pleased that for the most part I had emerged unscathed. Oh, some weird sore turned up in the corner of my mouth. Must be a cold sore or something.

Oh, now both of my lips are becoming tremendously dry. The corner of my mouth feels like hell, in particular, and is raw and cracked. This doesn't look like a cold sore, but what else could it be?

Oh god, it hurts. There is literally not enough Vaseline in the world to calm my mouth. The other corner of my mouth has become cracked now. I can't open my mouth more than half inch without serious pain. I might need to go to the doctor. If this is a cold sore, it is bad, and I might need some kind of anti-viral medication or balm.

Here I am at the doctor. She takes a look and says it doesn't look like a cold sore because there is no actual blister, it's just raw and cracked. She asks if I've had any scabbing and I said I had some skin-colored "gumminess" crop up overnight. Diagnosis: a staph infection, a.k.a impetigo. It is far more common in (gross, dirty) children and extremely contagious. Good thing I haven't been making out with anyone or sharing eating utensils. I was sent home with an $18 tube of antibiotic ointment and instructions to apply it 3 times daily for a week.

I did as I was told, plus some extra-credit Googling. Turns out staph infections are extremely common from OCRs. Getting small cuts and abrasions (from barbed wire, rocks, wood, thorns, etc) and being submerged in muddy water is a recipe for all kinds of ailments. And staph infections, although they will eventually probably go away on their own (after 3-4 weeks), should always be treated because they are so contagious. And you will need to throw away your Chapsticks and wash your pillowcases and towels really well.

After 2 days of antibiotic cream, my lips are feeling somewhat better. They are still cracked in the corners, but the pain is lessened and my entire mouth is not painfully dry anymore. Lesson learned: always go to the doctor if your gut tells you to. You don't want to screw around with your health.

(Other common OCR ailments: gastroenteritis, pinkeye, and poison ivy. If you think you may have any of these, be careful, because they are highly contagious and spreadable to others and other parts of your own body.)

Race Recap: Terrain Race Oshkosh

Terrain Race 9/22/18 Oshkosh, WI

Weather: 40 degrees and sunny (up to 60 degrees by noon)
Terrain: Grassy campground/parks, mostly pancake flat

Distance: 5K, about 20 obstacles

For my last OCR of my 2018 season, I chose the brand-new Terrain Race Oshkosh, which is near family so my mom was able to come spectate! Arrived about 40 minutes before my wave started, which turned out to be plenty of time. Parking was $10 and extremely close to the festival area. Check-in went quickly and I got "unlimited laps" written on my bib so I could just keep going whenever I was ready to start up again - waves were sent off every 15 minutes but I would not be required to wait for another wave start before continuing. There was no chip timing, except for the competitive waves. There was a nice area for spectators with a tent over picnic tables, which is a great touch. I took off with the first open wave of the day at 8:15 AM, knowing that I had to finish all my laps by noon or my hotel wouldn't let me shower there anymore (my goal was 3 laps).

First obstacle was a 4' wall, easy enough to get over. Then after half mile of running through grassy field, we reached a marshy ditch with water above the ankles that we had to plod through for about 1/3 mile. Fun! At least the water wasn't freezing (...spoiler alert for later). There were two small cargo nets in the ditch to step through, also. Getting back out of the ditch (twice each lap, the way it was set up you had to get out of the ditch and get back in) got tougher on laps 2 and 3 as the slope eroded. After we were finally, for real, out of the ditch and I picked long grass out of my shoes, we came across a water stop, then a tire drag that is similar to a Spartan plate drag. Pull the tire on the rope, then drag it back with a loop. This was either tough or easy depending on which tire you chose. It was here that I first saw that there were no distinctions between male and female weights, and there would not be for any of the obstacles. For most of the obstacles in the race, this would make it approximately normal Spartan-type difficulty for women and easy as hell for men.

Next was a bag carry (not really a sandbag, but long like one) up and down a big landfill hill. It was so steep on the downslope and had such long grass that it was much easier to sit and slide down, so that's what everyone did. The bag maybe weighed 30 lb and was easy to carry. After a short run we hit this traverse wall that is hard to describe, but I will try. There are three tilted panels with rock holds for the feet, kind of like Olympus panels but you have tiny, super slippery rock holds to step on, and various grips for the hands (there was a small vertical pole on the first panel, a short rope with a loop on the second panel, and a larger rock hold on the last panel). At the final panel you had to reach out and boing a door stopper, which was a fun little bell alternative. But it was what was BETWEEN these three panels that made it interesting - a balance beam, and a series of high stationary pegs (maybe 10 pegs or so, about a foot apart) that you needed to move across using your grip strength. Depending on which side of the structure you were on, you'd experience either the pegs first or the balance beam first. On my first round I did the side with the balance beam first, which was a mistake because it meant I was leading the pegs on my non-dominant hand. It was hard. On rounds 2 and 3 I did pegs first so I could lead with my right hand, and that made a good difference. I traversed the pegs by reaching my hands so there was a peg between them, then moving my left hand to that center peg, then moving my right hand over another peg, etc. It was a great challenge because I am 1) not used to moving laterally with my grip strength at all and 2) not used to reaching that far laterally with my grip. It took me about a minute, maybe 75 seconds, to get across the pegs each time. You have to get your body swinging straight sideways, which isn't easy with the transitions off the tilted panels. This was just a fantastic obstacle. Definitely the hardest obstacle in any OCR I've done that I've been able to clear. And I cleared it all three times!

Shortly after that was a tire flip - 2 times out, then 2 times back. The tire was about 200 lb and easy to flip. A short run later we got to a 6' wall, which was very "walkable" so I was able to use the "grab the top, step up the feet, hook the ankle - calf - knee on the top, and sit on it" technique to great effect. I highly recommend this technique for women or for anyone with upper-body issues. I was still trying to take it easy on my shoulder since my rotator cuff was a little angry from a pre-Beast back problem. After the wall was a water stop next to an obstacle wherein we hit a regular car tire with a sledgehammer out about 25 feet and back. It was a fun way to let out aggression. On my first lap I yelled out "take THAT, Donald Trump!" and the college-age volunteers appreciated my sense of humor, at least. They remembered me on laps 2 and 3!

Another run through a field to a short rope climb. The ropes had knots at the bottoms that were about a foot off the ground, making it a bit tricky. I had to mount the rope by standing on the knot, then hold myself up on the rope to set my S-hook. But once I did, I only needed one scoot to reach the blessedly low bell. Next was a concrete block drag, with a 70-lb (or so) block attached to a chain that we had to drag about 50 feet. It wasn't hard, but the blocks tore up the ground so each subsequent loop was a bit choppier.

Next up was Tarzan Swing, which was four ropes with random knots that we were supposed to swing through. I attempted this on the first lap, got to the second rope, and got stuck. This seemed to be the universal experience among participants. I think the ropes were honestly just too far apart. You needed a massive swing to be able to get to the next rope, and you had to be pretty non-secure on the rope to reach for the next one. A bit of a design flaw, in my opinion. I skipped this obstacle completely on laps 2 and 3 because the line became too long. A major problem with this obstacle is that people don't just quickly fail it and move on, they swing there trying to get the next rope for several minutes. With only 4 lanes, this causes a log jam.

After that disaster was a steep A-frame cargo net, and the steepness caused far more apex panic among my competitors than I see at Spartan races, but it was fine for me, anyway. The wall after that, though...I call it Giant Scary Wall. I don't know the actual name of it. It is about 15' high and has an easy ladder up one side, and you have to transition over the top to find a flat wall with 2x4s nailed to the side of it to make really narrow ledges to get down. But luckily, there is a rope to hold onto! But you have to already be getting down the wall to grab the rope! If I hadn't had my Salomon shoes on, I wouldn't have had the tread to feel even a bit secure on the small ledges. And I'm lucky I have really long legs so that I could get down to the second board and grab the rope as I was mounting the flat wall, instead of after I'd mounted it. It was scary all three times I did it. It was one of those obstacles I encounter from time to time where I think it's just not safe whatsoever (like Bender, which is in my humble opinion the worst obstacle ever). I'd say Giant Scary Wall had the greatest number of mid-obstacle NOPEs of the day, that I saw.

Another run through a field followed by what I will call Mud O-U-T. The basics: get into knee-deep, frigid water; climb over a small wood bridge; crawl under another small wood bridge through the knee-deep water; get out of water and climb over dirt pile; get back into waist-deep water; crawl through plastic tubes with water in them; get out into chest-deep water; climb out of the pit up a rapidly-eroding mud wall. The water was cold, you guys. It was maybe 60 degrees or so. People were screaming like a killer clown was chasing them. Keep in mind that I describe the water as chest-deep and I'm nearly 6 feet tall. Shorter women and children were screwed. The key for this obstacle is to not screech like a banshee and just try to have a positive mindset about the cold water. At least I wouldn't need an ice bath after this!

Unfortunately the next obstacle was poorly (or brilliantly?) planted: an elaborate multi-rig. Balls, bar grips, long poles, and rock holds all awaited our extremely wet, muddy hands. Even if I had the grip strength to do multi-rigs (I generally don't), the grips were soaking wet and muddy from prior attempts, and our hands were soaking wet (I had the foresight to wash off my hands in the frigid water after I'd climbed out of the mud, but most people didn't). This was an instant fail on all three rounds. But I tried!

Next was a big scary set of up and down monkey bars over a 4' deep swimming pool. On my first lap I heard participants saying that some of the bars spin a little bit. It was then I realized I would be taking another frigid bath very soon. Fortunately I was not nervous about it because I was still wet from Mud O-U-T! I got to the third bar and dropped in. It was definitely cold. On lap 2 I fell on the first bar because it was wet, and on lap 3 the line was SO LONG that I skipped the entire damn thing, felt bad about it, and did 15 random burpees by the obstacle exit while people looked at me like "that crazy lady knows that isn't required, right?" But the line was about 100 people long (NO JOKE) and would have taken 20-30 minutes or more to wait in (NO JOKE). It was not feasible, and it was not okay. They really should plan this out better. Or at least have a volunteer controlling traffic so that people were going through efficiently. Most folks didn't even start going until the other person was at the end (or in the water, most likely), and all 5 lanes were not being used most of the time.

The last obstacle was a big balance/cargo net rig. There was a balance beam ramp made with a 4x4 up about 4 feet to a big rectangular pit with a cargo net that we had to crawl across, then slide down a pole at the far side to get down and cross the nearby finish line. On lap 1 I couldn't get up the balance beam, on lap 2 I went straight for the ladder instead, and on lap 3 I tried the balance beam again and made it! The cargo net was easy - some folks rolled but I am not a fan, plus you could only roll for a bit, then you had to get back up the other side of the dip. I kept to the edge and used the edge of the net as a hand-hold while I walked across. Easy peasy. One thing I didn't like was on lap 2 some idiot kids ran out from the festival area onto the obstacle and were climbing on it while their equally-idiotic parents watched. No. Just no. This should have immediately been squashed.

After finishing lap 1 I got a medal, t-shirt, and water. That was the only thing available, water. On subsequent laps I got a pin for each lap I'd done, which I could put on my medal ribbon. Between laps I ate one Nutter Butter, had a bit of water, and went back out there. Don't take too much time between laps! The hype man was kind enough to solicit applause for me on each lap. "She is starting her THIRD LAP, make some noise!" I appreciated it! After the race it was an easy exit, although I could not hose down my shoes like I wanted to because the hose available was not functional. Dang. I also noticed that the change tents, which I thankfully did not need to utilize, had so many gaps in them that there was essentially zero privacy. Horrifying. But I wish I'd had more time, I would have been able to do at least one more lap, maybe 2. I felt really fit from a great season of racing and was having lots of fun!

Pros:

-Obstacles. They were diverse and for the most part well-designed. I appreciated the balance between strength, grip, power, and climbing obstacles.
-Terrain. After doing some insanely difficult races this year, it was nice to see straight-forward flat fast grassy terrain.
-Organized. They keep it simple, but it all ran very smoothly from what I could see.

Cons:

-Some obstacles were either nearly impossible, physics-wise, or dangerous.
-Zero photographers that I saw. Photos are a listed perk, so this was disappointing. Maybe I just didn't see them? On any of my three laps?
-Nothing but water at the finish. Would have liked some kind of calories or electrolytes. Fortunately I brought my own. If you do Terrain Race, bring your own nutrition!
-Pre-race communication was terrible. They had a "virtual event page" that had ZERO actual information on it. Also I would have liked to see a map, even at the race itself.

Race Grade: B. Bare bones, but a fast, flat course and some great obstacles.

Dreams vs Goals

The difference between a dream and a goal is a plan.

This is a thought that occurred to me during my long post-Beast drive home. (Another thought: "I'm glad I bought all these John Mulaney CDs before this trip.")

As a personal trainer, I hear a lot of dreams. People who want to lose 50 pounds. People who think running a marathon sounds cool. People who want to "get in shape." Or "look good naked." The problem isn't the dreaming for these folks. The problem is the follow-through, the discipline to buckle down and *work toward* that end result.

Dreams are essentially useless until you are ready to turn them into goals. Goals are dreams that have formulated a plan. A goal takes the dream and erects a little ladder so you can reach it. But you have to step up that ladder or you won't get there. This is why I hate vague ideas like "I want to lose 50 pounds." That is a terrible goal. What would it take to lose 50 pounds? THAT should be your goal. It's much easier to build a ladder when you have something tangible to lean it against.

A year ago I turned a dream (Spartan Trifecta) into a goal. I enacted the plan. I achieved the goal. Now what? They say our goals should always scare us a little, which I agree with, but you don't want a goal to be impossible. So my next goal will be achievable: a Spartan Trifecta in one month. That month being June 2019. I'm even signed up for it already! Chicago Super, Ohio Beast, Minnesota Sprint. And hopefully I'll be able to do another Trifecta later in the summer and fall.

My dream, for one day, is the Spartan Ultra. I'm not ready to turn out a plan for that yet, and I'm not sure what it will take to turn that dream into a goal. In the meantime, I will continue to set goals for myself that will lead me confidently(ish) in the direction of my dreams.

This Is Your Brain On Endurance Events

During any endurance event, my brain becomes a room with dozens of doors. I wander around the room and open them at random. Sometimes I slam them shut immediately, sometimes I linger for a while. The Beast was such a crazy, diverse experience that my doors led to...interesting places.

Mile 1: Sensory Deprivation Tank. Ooh, thank god, I need it to escape all this mud! Let's hang out here and forget where we are. Let the body go on autopilot.

Mile 2: Infirmary. How's the hamstring? Screwed? Alllllrighty then! Put a virtual bandaid on it and get back out there, chief.

Mile 3: YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGHoh shit I don't like that room at all. *slam*

Mile 4: Infirmary. How's the wrist? Screwed? Allllllllllllrighty then. No bandaid allowed, just get rocks in the wound and get back out there, boss.

Mile 5: Sensory Deprivation Tank. Ahhhh, so nice. Let these sand dunes work themselves out. I'll just float here.

Mile 6: YOU DON'T BELONG HERE, LADY. YOU WILL DO TEN SETS OF BURPEES BY THE END OF THIS RACE. YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, STAND AT THE DOORWAY AND TAKE IT. WALLOW IN IT

Mile 7: Discotheque! I like big butts and I cannot lie / you other brothers can't deny... (repeat entire song 12 times in a row)

Mile 8: YOU ARE AMAZING! Oh, I like this one. Let's hang out here for a full mile!

Mile 9: Torture chamber. Dammit, where's the sensory deprivation tank when you need it? So many heavy and wet things, all of them sand-covered.

Mile 10: YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH. This room again? Shit.

Mile 11: Sensory Deprivation Tank. More autopilot required in the deep sand and steep hills. Oh, look, a photographer. *makes Fonzie "AYYYYY" pose*

Mile 12: YOU DON'T BELONG HERE, LADY. YOU COULDN'T DO TWISTER IF YOUR CHILD'S LIFE DEPENDED ON IT. YOU'LL PROBABLY FAIL THE SPEAR THROW TOO BECAUSE YOU ARE A LOSER AND A JOKEokay that room is just super duper mean.

Mile 12.5: Discotheque! (puts on Mousse T record) I'm horny! Horny horny horny! / SOOO horny! I'm horny horny horny! (repeat out loud to yourself 25 times with the same enthusiasm on each chorus)

Mile 13: Heaven In The Movies. One hit spear and the angels were singing and the birds were chirping. In real life, the rain is falling and I am covered in sticky pebbles and muddy blood.

The key to endurance training and racing is to slam the doors on those bad rooms as quickly as possible, and leave the good rooms wide open. And when all else fails, get a good bop stuck in your head. I recommend Horny Horny Horny. Look it up on YouTube.

Race Recap: Spartan Beast Chicago

Spartan Beast Chicago 9/8/18 Attica, IN

Weather: 60 degrees and raining

Terrain: ATV park - 80% gravelly sand, 20% muddy forest/streams

Distance: 13+ miles, 30 obstacles

This is it. My A-race for the year. The A-race of my LIFE. I did the Spartan Obstacle Specialist training on Friday and was very pleased, not only with the training itself (which was fantastic! I got such good practice and advice!) but with the preview of the course. It rained all throughout the training, which was another sort of preview. I was happy to see that the course's high volume of wet sand was fairly easy to navigate and that this race wouldn't be Chicago Super 2.0 with deep mud throughout. Feeling confident!

Showed up Saturday morning bright and early to find dark, cold, and rainy weather. I was in the first Open wave at 8:45 AM. Parking was fairly smooth and I had a pleasant 5-minute walk to the festival. Check-in had a bit of a line but went very quickly once I got to the front of it. I had decided to wear my jacket because the "real feel" was in the mid-50s and I was legitimately concerned about hypothermia. I really wish I'd brought a better light long-sleeve with me. Despite being tech fabric, my jacket gained a couple pounds when soaked. Lesson learned. Checked my bag (which I stowed inside my own garbage bag from home! Never check your bag on a rainy day without one!) and got into the corral where everyone was in great spirits. Off we go!

Well, the first mile of the course took us through some real mud. I was having Chicago Super flashbacks and I felt terrible for telling all the nice people on The Internet that the course had almost no mud. There were also tons of rocks, puddles, and streams to trip us up. Eek. First obstacle was a 6' wall that I barely managed to get over by myself, using a technique I learned in my SOS training because I hurt my back a couple weeks ago (now THAT was a terrifying couple of weeks pre-race). We came out of the muddy woods near the start line for obstacles 2 and 3, Olympus and monkey bars. Of course, I immediately failed both of them. Two sets of burpees. I did every set of burpees unmodified because I did NOT want an asterisk by this finish. This is the Beast, dammit. (Spoiler alert: I did a lot of burpees.) Also I got hot, so I took my jacket off.

The fourth obstacle, Hurdles, was roped off with caution tape so we weren't allowed to do it. Apparently it was structurally unsound, constructed in the middle of a sand pit. We moseyed over to the vertical cargo net, which is generally a total gimme obstacle, but this one was very stretched and loose netting. People struggled a bit, and the struggle was real. After getting back down I realized I had somehow pulled my left hamstring right above the knee. I tried to jog but every step with that left leg hurt. Walking felt fine, but running didn't. SHIT. It was only 1.5 miles into the race and I am a lot of things, but I'm not stupid, so...the plan became to walk the entire Beast. Fortunately I am a well-trained and conditioned walker and I wasn't limping. The situation could be worse.

O-U-T was next and went smoothly, as did the A-frame cargo net (which I already knew from SOS was another loose net). The barbed wire crawl through muddy puddles was the best barbed wire crawl I've ever done. At least I had butt clearance with the higher wires. Unfortunately the wire caught the bottle in my Camelbak and punched a hole in it, but it still held MOST of the water inside. We passed the mile 3 mark and I realized I was already counting down how many miles were left - never a good sign. Next was a 7' wall that I got over in SOS training, but I needed a boost today. My back issue felt alright but I didn't have great shoulder mobility and I didn't want to press my luck on tall walls. On the next wall, which was a 9' behemoth, I got my boost and made it to the top, but then coming back down I hit my wrist awkwardly and landed pretty abruptly. Thankfully my lower body was totally fine, but my right wrist was bleeding and felt swollen right away. I washed the sand out of it at the luckily-nearby next water stop, and fortunately it stopped actively bleeding immediately but I definitely banged my timing chip against my inner wrist and bruised myself, scraping the plastic bracelet holding it against my skin. Ouch. And this will NOT be clean for hours.

At the top of a gravelly sand dune was the multi-rig, which I got nowhere on. I did ask the photographer to take a picture of me swinging on the first ring and he was kind enough to oblige. A+ service! 

Serving you Failure Eleganza

Third set of burpees. There was a woman doing single-arm squat thrusts with her other arm in a cast. There are some bad ass folks at these events. We went back down the sand dune (let me just say, most of these sand dunes were deep, loose sand. Way churned up since Friday's SOS, eeeek) and found the Atlas carry, which I did without too many issues. After the mile 4 marker was an 8' wall where I got a lovely boost, then a sandbag carry with a small bag (but still heavy) through the sand dune. It was fairly brutal, not gonna lie. It was long, on tough terrain, and the bag wasn't a nice long bag so it was harder to carry. Normally heavy carries are my jam, too.

At the top of another dune stood Bender. I had a really bad feeling about it even as I was approaching. I got a boost up to the first bar and tried to stand up. NOPE. NOPE. I did NOT feel safe. The metal bars mixed with the rain and the sand were so slick I felt like I could fall off at any second, from a not-insignificant height. I had to ask a very kind man to help get me down ("safety first!" he said, bless that man) and I did my fourth set of 30 burpees with the other folks who didn't feel like dying today. 

Another nice long walk to Tyrolean Traverse, which we'd also covered in SOS training but I got nowhere during that because the water on the rope was blinding my face whenever I grabbed the damn thing. This time the rope was less drippy and I tried to just go without thinking about how far I'd gone or how much farther was left. Unfortunately I had to hear the guy next to me tell his friend how far along HE was, so it blew that plan! I made it about 75% through, then my left foot started cramping up. I tried to stretch it while keeping it on the rope, but my calf wouldn't let me. Again, I'm no fool, I'm not out here trying to screw myself out of a finish at the halfway point, so I let go. Thirty burpees for the fifth time. But this time I did them on a door-sized piece of wood that was near the burpee pit. So comfortable! I will take whatever comfort I can get after 5 sets of burpees, dammit. Then was a plate drag, which was easy despite being uphill in sand. I love being huge. :)

Mile 8 marker, then the Z-Walls, which we'd also seen at SOS. One of the tips we'd gotten is to do some recon and see which lane has good blocks that are nicely positioned, so I already knew I wanted the left side of the middle lane. Went through it slowly but surely and rang the bell with a very patient guy waiting right behind me on my lane! He was very nice about it. I really didn't want to do burpees by the Z-Walls, this was a brand new adventure in terrain with a sloppy Wet Clay everywhere. Somewhere around here I started to feel cold so I put my jacket back on. Long walk to Stairway to Sparta, which I got a boost onto (by a VERY strong man who just literally picked up my thighs and lifted me straight up like I didn't weigh over 160 lb with wet gear on! Kudos, sir!) and easily got up over. High structures are a breeze in this weather and sand when they're made of WOOD. Not metal. Bender. *cough*

Just past mile 9 was the bucket carry. The weight was fine. The terrain was rough. I was one of the few people I saw who did NOT take a rest on this obstacle. I knew if I stopped I might never get going. Having sandy hands and buckets hurt the grip a bit even though I turned it upside down, too. It was a long bucket carry and I was glad when it was over. 

This bucket might as well be GLUED to my hands.

But then we climbed a steep dune and did the Herc Hoist, which was another heavy obstacle that was affected by sand! At this point between all the sand and the burpees on rocks/gravel/sand, my hands felt like hamburger meat. After mile 10 we had a second barbed wire crawl (a bit tougher than the first but still not terrible), followed by rolling mud (with no water) and dunk wall (with DEEP water). The dunk wall went about 15" under the surface of the water. It was intense. I just held my nose with one hand and the bottom of the wall with the other and threw myself underneath it. At this point I was glad I'd put my jacket back on, because some protection is better than none.

Walked past the gawking, excited spectators to easily do the inverted wall, then I attempted the rope climb, which I'd also learned how to do at SOS. Sadly, today my hands basically went numb and stopped working when I was about 75% of the way up. Dang. Time for the 6th set of burpees! I wised up and did them with my hands in a puddle for rock protection, plus I pulled my jacket sleeves down to cover most of them. Went down another sand dune to the slip wall, which was very easy and in the middle of a giant-puddle-filled valley near the parking lots. It was a really long walk (with a random photographer in the middle of it, nice) past the 11-mile marker to the second sandbag carry, which was way more pleasant than the first one because it had the long sandbags that are easy to sling over the shoulder. The terrain was the same loose sand, though. At this point I was really thanking god that my ankles were strong and that I wasn't getting leg cramps like everyone else. Seriously. If you are susceptible to leg cramps, you might want to avoid this venue like the plague.

Long walk past mile 12 (I gave away a Nutter Butter to a very excited man) to the finishing gauntlet. Twister. My archnemesis. I of course immediately failed and began my 7th set of burpees, which were, frankly, getting a bit tiring at this point (YA THINK?). And I knew the last real obstacle was spear throw, which I never hit, so I was bracing myself for a bad finish. Walked up the hill and around the corner. Saw the festival. Saw the finish line. Saw the spearmen. I went to the second station which had the spear laying on the ground, never a good omen. Got it into position just as I'd practiced at SOS when I threw the thing about 30 times (and stuck it 3 times, for a whopping 90% failure rate). Three deep breaths. Throw. And a perfect stick. I YELPED. I SCREAMED. The people coming up to the spear stations let out a mighty cheer. It was an out of body experience. I'd missed every spear throw in every Spartan race I'd ever done. I'd only ever stuck three spears in practice, when there was zero pressure. But I hit this one right when it really counted. I would not have to do an 8th set of burpees today. With that stuck spear, I became a Beast finisher. Sixteen months of training, over 30 pounds of body fat lost, several pounds of muscle gained, proving myself TO myself that I could do obstacle races. In one stuck spear.

I ran (hamstring be damned, my adrenaline was riding so high I didn't feel it now) over the fire and across the finish line in 6 hours and 10 minutes. Yes, I cried. It was the race of my life, comparable only to my 46-minute-PR marathon in Chicago in 2012. Got my FitAid and my checked bag, enjoyed the cold wash area (which was actually WARM water, which felt freaking amazing), bought a venue t-shirt, and hit the road for leftover pasta and the hotel hot tub.

GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!

Pros:

-Course. The obstacles were nicely spaced and, between the hills and the sand, the terrain was so uniquely challenging and awesome.

-People. From volunteers to participants, just an awesome camaraderie.

-Challenge. This was just such a huge challenge, and I love it. I felt like a Navy Seal with all the "wet and sandy" we had. Going through such a challenging race is a great way to learn new techniques and tricks.

Cons:

-I would have liked at least one more photo spot.

-Weather. Obviously this cannot be controlled, but the active rain really put a damper (LOL puns) on the grip obstacles!

-Body Armor, where are you? You are delicious. FitAid is fine but I was craving that Body Armor.

Race Grade: A. Another great, tough event. 

Race Recap: Spartan Sprint Busch Stadium

Spartan Sprint Busch Stadium 8/11/18 St Louis, MO

Weather: 90, humid and sunny

Terrain: MLB stadium - concrete and stairs galore

Distance: 4 miles, 23 obstacles

As a result of the Spartan Minnesota Disaster of 2018, I had a free race code and used it to sign up for a second lap of the Busch Stadium sprint (which I was already doing, but it was convenient for my schedule). Drove down to St. Louis and stayed the night near the airport, then got up bright and early on Saturday and made the easy drive into downtown. Found a $2.75 parking lot a block southwest of the stadium. At the registration tent I asked politely if I could have an earlier start time for my first lap (I was supposed to start at 10:45, with second lap at 11:30), and she gave me a 9:45 wristband immediately. Sweet. High security for the stadium so my bag was searched and I went through a metal detector. No issues! At this race there were a lot of extra employees milling around, so it was easy to ask for directions or to take pictures. I made sure I could check my bag once and have access to it between races without having to pay again to recheck it. Good to know!

Before the race I ate some Pringles and got some free samples of Persil while walking around and seeing what was visible. There was a finishing gauntlet around the field, and the A-frame cargo was right by the start corral, along with a few other obstacles on different levels. I liked the openness of the different levels. Seemed like it would have good airflow, at least, and on a hot day (high of 90 degrees) that would be critical. Got in the start corral and they sent us off in waves of 15 people every minute. The hype man told us that 15 was, in fact, the magic number: we would be doing 15 reps at the rep obstacles, and 15 burpees if we failed (unique to stadium events – usual penalty is 30).

The race started up a ramp which had a bunch of paracord strung across to make a low crawl. While last year at Lambeau I had squatted under each one, this time I could do a more-efficient bear crawl all the way up (about 200 feet). At the top of the ramp was a bound-feet heavy jump rope with, you guessed it, 15 reps. I did a double-hop on this and immediately regretted it. Hopping twice wastes more energy. But my main goal going into this race was to not make the same mistakes on lap 2 that I made on lap 1, so I socked that nugget away for later. Same with the stairs sections, which were plentiful, and you can assume safely in this recap that there were stairs between EVERY obstacle. I made sure to learn the best way through each section so I didn’t have to do extra steps up and down.

Once we got up onto the top deck (which had upper deck seating above it, so it wasn’t the tippy-top of the stadium), we did Rolling Epic, with feet on a scooter and we walk on hands. I’d been practicing this so it was easy. Scooters cost $12 on Amazon. CAVEAT HERE: some of the order of the obstacles is a bit fuzzy in my brain, so please do not take the sequence too literally. There are a few obstacles I can’t place in my head. Next up was the 7’ wall, which I’d always needed help with before. This time I tried a new technique – I stepped back about 5 feet and got a two-step running start at the wall, kicked up on it with my foot while grabbing the top, and got my ribcage over the top so that I could leverage my leg up there and straddle it. It worked! Huzzah! My right forearm had a bit of road rash but who cares? I was so proud that I conquered the 7’ wall totally solo.

After going down many stairs, we (meaning us racers – I did the race by myself) reached the jerry cans, which were 4 or 5 gallon jugs of water. Men had to carry two, and women had to carry one. This basically made it a farmer’s carry for men and a bucket carry for women. Carrying a WET bucket, at any rate. It was easy for me because heavy carries are well within my wheelhouse. Right after that we went up a set of stairs and were in the thick of it at the A-frame cargo! 

There are dozens of people directly underneath my crotch.

Easy climb over, smile for the photographer, and back down to the Assault Airbike, which is one of those bikes you see on NFL sidelines with a big fan on the front and a computer that counted down 10 calories burned. The fan felt amazing as I went hard and burned my 10 calories in about a minute. It felt so easy.

Then was the 8’ wall. I thought hell, let me give this a shot, if I could get 7’ I might be able to do it. Took my same running start and kick off the wall, and this time I used my momentum to walk my feet up the wall after I grabbed the top. Once I was hanging off the top with my feet flat on the wall, I did a fancy maneuver where I pushed out with my legs and wrenched my arms up to get a forearm on top of the wall, and from there I wrestled my ribcage on top and got up there! I was on cloud 9. Holy crap. I’d conquered an 8’ wall all by myself. What an adrenaline rush!

Turns out an adrenaline rush on top of a quick 10-calorie bike are not a good combo for the next section of stairs, which was an interior stairwell (i.e., no air conditioning or breeze) up about 5 stories. I almost died. Once I got to the top I had to breathe heavily for a minute before I could continue. Lesson learned for lap 2: go slower on that stupid bike! Fortunately all we had to do on the top deck this time was a Z wall, which went well, then go back down a ton of stairs, this time with paracord on parts of it (low crawl 2). Lots of people bear-crawled backwards but I did the slower “scoot on your butt” technique because I wanted the mental boost of having short “rests” of sitting. Once at the bottom we did a Herc hoist. Give me a challenge, Spartan.

Spoiler alert: the Spartan gods were laughing their asses off when I went up the ramps to the next obstacle – the multi-rig. There were 5 rings and two baseballs before the bell. My hands, like everything else on my body, were soaked with sweat. I fell reaching the second ring. As I did my 15 burpees, I realized EVERYONE was falling. Like, literally everyone. Even the ripped rock-climber dude who made it to the first baseball. Everyone was falling on the first or second ring. It was definitely the burpee-maker for the day. We were all so sweaty and there was nothing to dry our hands on.

Back to the top deck for the spear throw, which I of course failed. Sandbag carry afterward went well, though – lots of stairs, and at the top of the upper deck there was a photographer who said my smiling and waving photo was “gorgeous!” Always good to hear! Stairs, stairs, stairs, then back to the top deck for ball slams (woman balls were 20 lb, man balls were 30) and an Atlas carry (which felt like maybe 50 lb or so). During the Atlas carry burpees we heard the men’s top 3 elite announced on the loudspeaker, to which I exclaimed “Ryan Kent is SO. FINE.” to the ladies near me and they very loudly agreed. Down many stairs under the paracord for low crawl #3.

This time we were in the basement of the stadium and I got all excited, singing “going behiiiiind the sceeeeenes! Behind the scenes at Cardinals stadiuuuuuum!” We weaved through hallways that had random couches and arcade video games in them, then turned a corner into the Cardinals locker room, which was blessedly air conditioned and had overhead fans. It felt like Heaven in the movies. Even though we had to do hand-release pushups, it was one of the single greatest minutes of my life, in that deliciously cold locker room. I’d been feeling pretty run down and it gave me such a boost. Thanks, Ghost of Mark McGwire! (I know he is not dead.)

We ended up coming out by the dugout and onto the field, or rather the red sand/clay stuff that surrounds the field. Keep off the fake grass! We looped around to the hurdles, which were four 4’ walls, which I hopped over easily and smiled again for a photo. Next were box jumps, and the women’s platforms were about 15” high (men’s 18-21”) so it was easy enough for a tall gal. Lots of other people were doing step-ups and that appeared to be “legal.” After the box jumps we kept going around the field to two 6’ walls in a row. I used my 7’ wall technique and it worked twice! Woop! I’m getting good at this crap! Unfortunately I didn’t have such luck on the rope climb. The ropes were fairly narrow and I could not get a good foot lock. Burpees in the red clay/sand/dirt! Dammit, now I’m filthy. At a STADIUM race.

Went through the Gauntlet of punching bags and across the finish line and got my medal, which I was pleased to see was gold. Most race medals are boring silver. There was also a photographer taking pictures AFTER the finish, with the nice stadium and Gateway Arch and skyline in the background. Nice touch! 

One and done! Only not done yet.

We had to walk up stairs to get to the exit. In the next 25 minutes, I ate a hot banana (not a pleasant experience), drank a bunch of water, got my finisher shirt, got my checked bag, changed out of my blue crop top into my pink crop top (I wanted to color-code my laps), changed my headband bib, put on my new chip, took some Tums, drank a juice box, rechecked my bag, went to the bathroom, and got to the start corral right in time for my 11:30 lap. The start corral was way less crowded, and the rest of the stadium would be too. Looks like most folks wanted to get their race done before the heat got too oppressive.

My main goal for lap 2 was to finish only a few minutes slower (maximum) than my first lap. I also wanted to learn from the mistakes I’d made on the first lap. And frankly, I wanted to stay semi-hydrated, because it felt like a losing battle. I only did one hop per rep on the jump rope. I took 2 minutes on the assault bike instead of 1 minute. When I knew the multi-rig was coming up, I tried to dry my hands as best I could by waving them around and blowing on them as I was ascending the ramps. I was also a bit dehydrated so I wasn’t sweating quite as profusely. This time I managed to make it to the last ring before I was too sweaty to continue. It was among the best I’d seen ANYONE do so I was thrilled!

Sandbaggin' it.

I didn’t feel quite as tired on the second lap. Maybe my pacing was better, or I was getting acclimated to the stairs or the heat, or I just knew that delightful air conditioned locker room was coming up again, but I felt like I had a good deal of “get up and go.” I realized around the locker room that I was likely to have fairly even splits from my first lap to my second. 

Every second counts!

The finishing gauntlet of obstacles around the field went about the same as the first, except that this time I made it about 1/3^rd way up the rope before I could not lock in anymore. More burpees on the red sandy stuff! I crossed the finish line SIX SECONDS slower than my first lap. Excellent! This time I skipped the hot banana, traded my Clif bar to the dude at the State Farm booth for some sunglasses, cleaned myself up as best I could and changed my shirt (I should have changed everything, I reeked of sweat), then walked back to my car with my medals clanging like Michael Phelps.

I bet Simone Biles feels like this all the time.

Pros:

-Great course/venue. Obstacles were very well-spaced and had great diversity. Gorgeous and clean facility.

-Organization. This was one of the smoothest events ever. Perhaps having it at a stadium helped.

-Medals. Gold instead of silver? Love. And I love the venue-specific ribbon. Spartan changed this year to have more specific medals for different kinds of races, and it's a GREAT change.

Cons:

-No FitAid or BodyArmour at the end. It would have been really nice to have a *cold* beverage (the water was lukewarm the entire race).

Race Grade:  A. With cold water it would have been an A+. If I nitpick I could come up with only a couple issues (maybe the multi-rig could be earlier so we weren't as sweaty?), but they are really nothing. This race was GREAT.

My Road Back to Running

The title of my blog is "Fast Fancy Walking," but I didn't start out a walker. It's been a long strange trip full of frustration and injury. I realized I haven't talked about it much on the blog so here goes, for all who might be interested.

In 2005, I was out of college and looking for a challenge. All the way through my formal education I'd been able to take comfort in knowing that I was smart enough to get good grades without having to work too hard at it, but since graduating I was somewhat adrift. What was I if I wasn't a good student? Or, being several years after my lessons ended, a good musician? It occurred to me that I'd only ever pursued things that I was naturally good at. Why not pick something I am naturally terrible at, and see if I can make myself good? All athletic pursuits certainly qualified, as I had absolutely ZERO natural athletic ability. But I settled on running, which appealed to me because 1) it was quantifiable and 2) I truly, epically SUCKED at it. When I started out, I literally could not run 1/10th of a mile without horrible shin pain and sucking wind like a Hoover.

While trying the Jeff Galloway run/walk technique eventually helped me increase some distance, I still got shin splints every single time I ran. For years. Finally in 2007 I saw a podiatrist and was told my feet were hyperflexible, in the 99th percentile for flexibility in fact, and that in this case flexibility was a very bad thing. My tendons and ligaments flopped around in my feet completely untethered, and this lack of stability was putting massive strain on my calves, which in turn put massive strain on my shins. The orthotics only did so much. Although I kept trying to do run intervals in my workouts, I realized if I trained I could actually walk faster than the glacial pace I would need to keep my shins from hurting. So I gave up on running completely by around 2009 and pursued walking exclusively. I also changed the way I slept - as a stomach sleeper, I had my toes pointed all night, which was making my calves less flexible.

In 2012 I decided to attempt a full marathon PR, because I was sick of not having PR'd at that distance since my very first full marathon in 2009. I trained for 6 months and got fast. I could walk 10 miles in under 2 hours. Sure enough this led to a PR marathon (by 46 minutes!) in the fall. After several more years of ups and downs with my fitness, I did the Spartan Sprint Lambeau Field in June 2017 (recap is in the archives!) and found new joy with fitness. Obstacle racing let me view my body like a farm: there's always something to work on, something to fix, something to improve. The training wouldn't be boring and I could constantly incorporate new things. This was so patently different from the slogs through miles and miles that I'd done before. Instead of the amazing diversity of "four 5-mile workouts, a 10-mile workout, and a long walk," I could do 3 strength workouts, a few yoga sessions, elliptical, bike, jogging, monkey bars, obstacle-specific training, etc. One thing I noticed, though: nobody in OCR walks. Walking is anathema to many OCR participants (which is, frankly, an obnoxious attitude to take, but there it is). In order to really pursue this sport and feel like I'd earned any respect at all, I felt some pressure to start running.

Thankfully, in the other activities I'd taken up (hot yoga, elliptical, etc) I had been building my body to be able to handle the stress of running for months, so when I finally added it in I was able to do so fairly quickly and safely. The shins still bother me when I run on concrete, but most OCRs are trail races anyway, so I try to do trails when I can, and I can actually do it. The dirt absorbs the most damaging impact, and icing afterward helps prevent the pain from returning. Yesterday I ran continuously for a full two hours, about 11 miles, on dirt trails - something I never dreamed I could do without shin pain back in 2005.

My road back to running, it turns out, wasn't a road at all, but a trail. And a series of obstacle races that I felt compelled to try, just because I sucked at it and that pissed me off. Don't let sucking at something stop you from doing it. Hard work more than makes up for a lack of talent. You can make yourself into a person that other people would be shocked to hear is NOT a "natural athlete."