Spartan Midwest Super and Sprint Weekend, 11/5-6/22 Goshen, IN
Weather: 40s, windy
Terrain: Grass/dirt, plowed fields
Garmin Data: Super 7.14 miles, 159' elevation gain (includes some penalty loops); Sprint 3.56 miles, 76' elevation gain (no penalty loops)
Course Map
Our beloved Attica is no more. This year's Midwest events would be 1) shorter (no Beast? Denied!), 2) farther to drive, and 3) so late in the fall that the weather would be as unpredictable as the judging on Drag Race Down Under season one. As it drew closer it seemed we would not be in for a nice warm respite, but rather we would be facing the kinds of howling wind that one only finds in the most boring parts of the American Midwest. Indeed, this was THE Spartan Midwest weekend, and we would experience everything the Midwest had to offer. Namely: wind. Spoiler alert.
Wes was once again my partner in crime, and we arrived on Super Saturday to a delightful cold drizzle that was blowing straight sideways. Temps were in the 40s, with winds of 30 mph (that's without the gusts, which were strong enough to occasionally stop us in our tracks). We mutually decided that it was safer to risk regretting overdressing than to risk regretting underdressing, so many layers were donned. Off we went in our Open wave, easily conquering this new Over Unders obstacle (two 3' hurdles with a short, approximately 20 yard, crawl in between). Going through the county fairgrounds we hopped over two 4' overwalls, then the 6' wall. The inverted wall was slightly terrifying as usual, but we made it over and proceeded to the barbed wire crawl, which was low enough that rolling was necessary (and, due to the rain and straw laying around, unpleasant).
I could be drinking Taster's Choice at our AirBnB, dammit.
Although the rain had ended, the damage had already been done for the next obstacle, the monkey bars. I made a valiant effort, but fell early due to the bars just being slightly too wet. Ben Shapiro would have angrily tweeted about how defective they were. But Wes and I just soldiered through the convenient penalty loop, which was marked by tape that was whipping around violently in the wind. Atlas carry was on the way toward the festival area, wherein we did the rope climb in full view of many spectators. It was on this obstacle where I started feeling remarkably out of shape. I got up the rope, but coming back down I realized my arms were already tired, and the weekend had only just begun. Up and down the A-frame cargo, then we walked past the kid's race and the wind picked up. As I struggled to walk forward, I marveled at how the children had not blown away. Seriously. Not a single kid was picked up by this gust?! It was pushing my ass backwards and I weigh 4 times more than some of them.
The sandbag carry was up and down the grandstand stairs that overlook the track. It felt very Stadion-esque. Following this was a bit of a walk to the spear throw, which had the old-school hay bales instead of foam targets. Wes and I were worried that our curse would reappear, although since our dual victory at the Ohio Sprint, neither of us had missed. And that continued. We both stuck the spear. Hell yes. Helix went well also, then we entered the Plowed Fields portion of the race. This was a bit choppy and occasionally a bit muddy, and constituted the entirely of the middle miles of the course. We got over the 7' wall easily, only to be felled by Olympus afterward. I'm starting to believe I will never clear Olympus again. Thankfully there was a penalty loop.
Because Jesus was on our side (despite my yelling his full name including middle initial H at several points in the gusting wind), the next obstacle was The Box, which is usually a good obstacle to get a boost on. This time, though, I noticed that the lanes had different rope arrangements, including (finally) a few long-ish ropes without knots. I got on one of those, grabbed high, and did an S-wrap as high as I could. When I stood up, I could grab the ropes above the edge, leading to the back bar. I held tight and inched a bit higher on the rope, locking in again. I grabbed the neighboring rope as well, and inched my way up until I could grab the top bar and get my torso far enough to turn myself sideways. And this is how I got The Box, BY MYSELF, for the first time ever. While totally out of shape. Everything's coming up Clare! And next was Twister, which I also cleared! My confidence was soaring! Especially since, while waiting for Wes to complete Twister's penalty loop, I noticed a lot of fit-looking people failing Twister. They were doing it wrong, god bless their hearts.
Pipe Lair was harder than usual. They had positioned the bars in some crazy ways, making some very narrow pathways through with big weird drops and jumps. It was fun, but it definitely turned what is usually a tall person's bane into a tall person's nightmare. Bender was next, and there was a photographer. I was excited to maybe finally get a Bender photo. But alas, I got low on the bars and realized they didn't feel safe. They were slightly wet and lightly coated in dirt/mud. I am not dying for a Bender photo. Wes made it over, possibly because he is more willing to risk life and limb for a Bender photo. Stairway to Sparta, which I had previously gotten over solo, I required a boost on. Again, out of shape, tired arms, couldn't do my "little pull-up" technique.
The Z-walls had a photographer as well, Hooray! Z-wall pics are rare indeed! And, as it turns out, they were even more rare because this particular photographer was taking TONS of pictures...of only a few people. He was literally only watching two of the five lanes. Wes and I even loudly tried to get his attention so he would take my picture, only to be completely ignored because he was watching his two lanes, waiting for someone to get close enough to photograph. Later we found out his photos were beautiful, too. It was a damn shame I couldn't get any. After that excitement we came across a dirt quarry of sorts that had big ditches dug into it for Rolling Mud. Wes and I both noped out of that shit. At these late stages of a race wherein we feel incredibly elderly and out of shape, we sure don't need to add "soaked feet" to our cold-weather woes.
After looping up some dirt roads out of the quarry and back into the exposed grass fields near the festival, we encountered Beater, which was blown blessedly dry thanks to the aforementioned howling wind. I was able to clear this with relative ease, only to be told by the volunteer that I was number 166 that day to ring the bell. I was surprised to hear that, considering there would be about 1000 finishers for this event. That's a fairly low clear rate. Maybe I AM good at this stuff! Plus the volunteer said that they were telling people not to do penalties, because the wind was becoming too dangerous. "BECOMING?!"
And then came the multi-rig. They were in Super mode, but the usual metal bar was replaced by a thinner bar that felt more like a durable plastic. I got to the first ring after the bar, then my grip totally failed and I slipped right off. That's right. My grip failed. I was so ashamed. This was all my fault. I'd let myself go. We asked the volunteer if we needed to do the penalty loop due to the wind advisory, and she said "I mean, if you WANT to, but it's basically straight downhill and then back uphill, there's a rope to help you climb back up," and Wes and I were like "NOPE" and proceeded to the bucket carry, which was fairly short and easy.
The course passed by the parking lot and the kids race course before the final obstacle gauntlet. Herc hoist was as easy as ever. The vertical cargo net had the platforms, and the women's was higher than usual by a good 6 inches. I could almost, but not quite, get onto it solo. I accepted a boost from Wes and then went to climb over. Holy shit, this net was LOOSE. It was looser than your mom. It was looser than EVERYBODY'S MOM COMBINED. I was thanking the good gay gods that we were almost done with this torture.
SWEET SATURN'S RINGS
The slip wall was blessedly not slippery, and the fire jump was not lit (smart, given the extreme wind conditions), and we finished in a shockingly fast time. Like, nearly PR time. Even though we were both out of shape as all hell and this wasn't a short Super. Maybe there was some magic in the Midwest. Either way, neither of us was looking forward to Sunday's Sprint, and I just hoped that nothing in my body would lock up overnight. I was also glad that we had an AirBnB and therefore I could wash my nice warm sweatshirt and wear it again the next day.
The manic joy of finishing a mid-distance obstacle event
On Sunday we woke up to much better weather. Sure, it was still cold in the 40s, but at least the wind was significantly less brutal, and there had been no further rain. I felt very optimistic for the monkey bars as we started out. The first obstacles were the same as the Super. This time the 6' wall was particularly hilarious because a bunch of tall, jacked dudes were staring at it strategizing how they'd get over, and I just strolled past them, grabbed the top, and popped on up. Then not a single one of them did it how I did it, and it was a disaster. Men. They'll never change. The inverted wall was tougher today for some reason and I required a bit of help getting on top. The barbed wire crawl was more of the same, although at least it was less wet, and I got a jaunty pose in.
Why doncha come up and see me some time?
The monkey bars were indeed dry as a bone, and I indeed was able to clear them! And later, when I got to the rope climb, I was about ten feet up, feeling exhausted, when I looked down and saw two women watching me. They were obviously racers waiting for their heat to start. I thought "I'm probably the only woman up this high on a rope right now." And I realized: I can't fall. No way. Do I want to look like a total puss in front of these gals? Do I want to give them any reason to think THEY can't do this? No way. I somehow made it to the bell. My arms had nothing left. I hope those gals appreciated my sacrifice. Kept going through the course, hitting the spear yet again (we have been on fire since Ohio, holy crap), and enjoying Helix as much as one can while stretching their hip adductors to insane degrees.
"I got talent, don't need the splits." -Trinity The Tuck
This time we took a shortcut across the plowed fields straight to Z-walls. It was during this shortcut that we ran into H from Ohio 2021 (she was a key component of Team Strugglebus)! It was fabulous to see her again, but it was brief as she was in far better shape and took off at a run. After Z-walls, instead of taking the dirt road out of the quarry, we were sent directly up the side. Which was an extremely steep incline. So steep that as we approached I inquired out loud "are we supposed to fuckin' Alex Honnold this shit?!" Answer: yes. So we all climbed up this dirt wall with our hands and feet and whatever other parts we needed to get purchase in this garbage. The things we do for free FitAid.
The multi-rig was at the top of the hill, and the set-up was surprisingly the same as the day before. Usually they remove the bar in favor of all rings. But like yesterday, I failed due to lack of grip strength. With the penalty loop being back down and up that same godawful Free Solo crap, we skipped it without any remorse. Indiana had made us as cold-blooded as their lawmakers who banned abortion. The bucket carry was a bit harder than the day before, so I guess we're even.
Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I got into this situation.
Back to the final gauntlet. Vertical cargo's platform was gone and its net had been tightened to the level "okay, not great." The fire jump actually had fire today. And we once again finished in damn near a PR despite walking the entire thing. This was a WILD WEEKEND.
Wes is shushing the fire and I'm afraid to ask why
For we are glorious.
Pros:
-Course layout was good. Used the venue to good effect.
-Logistics ran smoothly (parking, check-in, etc).
-I actually liked that the multi-rig stayed a MULTI-rig for the Sprint (instead of rings only, which frankly is a uni-rig).
Cons:
-Weather was terrible. It's true that Spartan does not control the weather, but they did choose to have this race in freakin' NOVEMBER.
-I don't like that they had both their Midwest race venues extremely close together (Notre Dame and this one). Spread 'em out, Spartan, Jesus Herbert Christ.
Race Grade: A-. We learned that being out of shape is not nearly as important for overall race pace as obstacle proficiency (especially spear throw).
Watch my full weekend video recap (featuring several Super obstacles and both days' spears) here or on YouTube.
