Race Recap: Conquer the Gauntlet Iowa

Conquer the Gauntlet 7/21/18 Woolstock, IA

Weather: 70s and sunny

Trails: Fairly flat farmland and woods, some river crossings

Distance: 4 miles, 25(ish) obstacles

Drove out to Woolstock the morning of the race. This place is in the middle of nowhere. Let's put it this way: directions include "turn off the paved road and go a few more miles." Parking was $10 and in the middle of a field, with a short walk to the festival area. It was small but efficient. Check-in where we got actual bibs and an ankle-bracelet chip. Before the race started I got to look at a few of the formidable obstacles near the end and pretty much decide in my head that there was no way I was doing that crap, but more on that later. My wave started at 9:45 and had a 6' wall to get into the start corral. Being much taller than Spartan's 4' wall, I asked a nearby teenage boy for a boost. Get used to it, kid, you'll be boosting chicks your whole race career!

We started and immediately entered a nice shady wooded area which had a couple of wet/muddy spots. Some unfortunate soul lost a shoe, and people were digging in the mud helping him find it. "Here it is! ...Oh, that's someone ELSE'S shoe." Eeek. My shoes (I chose the Reeboks because I figured this course would have lots of water) stayed on the whole race. The first obstacle was an inverted ladder which was actually pretty tough. I can do this solo every time in Spartan events but this one didn't have a wall to leverage yourself over, so I needed a hand at the top. Plus it was a bit higher and there were no crash pads. That's what waivers are for! After that we went to what is basically a tire ladder, with single "chains" of tires lashed together that you can pick a lane and climb. I was able to do this after quickly figuring out that you cannot climb them like a ladder, you have to put the edge of the tire into your chest and climb it up the side so that it doesn't wobble away from you so much. It also let me "sit" on the top tire to ease the transition over the top of the wall. I felt so smart.

Next up was something called "Elephant Graveyard" which I had no idea what it was. Turns out it was a structure made of spaced-out poles that you climb up and over. Turns out I had been training for this for months without realizing it - I like to do 5 minutes of "propping" myself up in the squat rack on my hands and feet and moving from one side of it to the other. It was perfect preparation for this obstacle. Some other people were totally terrified of it - it gets pretty high off the ground. After that was a water stop next to...a rope climb. The dreadnought rope climb. My archnemesis. I mentally prepared myself for a disaster but the middle rope spoke to me. Put my rope in my S-hook and...holy crap, I could scoot up. Grab, set, scoot. Grab, set, scoot. I managed to scoot my way all the way to the top and ring the bell! I was so excited I felt like the race could be over right now and God could strike me with a fatal lightning bolt and all would be fine. But it was only 1 mile in, so I better keep going :)

After some running through farmland (which, by the way, was fairly ankle-breaking! Watch your step in this race!), there was a Z-beam, which was just a balance beam where you walk on the narrowest part of a board's edge. It was HARD. I fell off a billion times but I just got back on and keep scootching across. The breeze, which was helping keep us cool, was not helping us keep our balance. But then I ran more and came across three 8' walls in a row. Looked around and nobody was there, Lord help me. Some beautiful spectators in lovely dresses asked me if I needed help, but I said I didn't want to get them dirty! Fortunately a dude in his 20s came up after a minute and I enlisted him to shove one of my feet up for each wall, and I spotted him for his climbs as well. Bless that man.

The next obstacle was something called "Smooth Criminal," which who knew what that meant? But it turned out to be AWESOME. There were a couple of tilted steps (like the quintuple steps on Ninja Warrior), then a 60-degree wall like Spartan's Olympus, only there was a pole rigged at the top to hold on to as you traverse, then you have to step to another wall which is the same except once you cross that pole there are a few holds (including a BOWLING PIN, so cool), then you step to another wall and do the pole again before you ring the bell. I managed to do this whole thing just great on the first try! Fortunately with my height I was able to straddle the gap to make the crosses to the other walls. It was one of the coolest, funnest [sic] obstacles I have ever seen in a race. So original and so awesome. If it wouldn't take up my entire backyard I would totally build one.

Ran through the woods again (and by the way, assume that these runs through the woods always include a creek crossing, because they usually did, and usually it was tough to get up the cliff-like bank on the far side) to Pegatron, which was a terrifying obstacle I'd seen on the website and I was 100% sure I'd be unable to do it. I tried, y'all. I literally got NOWHERE. This is some serious Ninja Warrior shizz. You had to take these wood pegs and put them in the holes and get across the board...just no. But it would be super fun for someone who could do that sort of thing. The next obstacle, Crank It Up, was up my alley. You turn a crank to reel in a weighted sled, then pull it back to the start with a rope. This was so easy I can't even, y'all. I should have done the men's sled.

Next up was a river crossing (drink!) then Belly of the Beast, where we climbed up a 8" wide ramp, then had to come back down by crawling down the underside of a cargo net until we could kick a bell. This was a bit awkward to start the climb on (you are sitting on a wood platform and have to get crawling UNDER a net), but once I got going it was not too difficult. A bit of a grip challenge, but getting the feet positioned on the net wasn't tough. Next there was a multirig over a giant water pit. At least one hold on each lane was a straight vertical pipe section. Nope. I was way too intimidated to even try this. I had decided I was in this race for the practice, not for the "gotta beat them all" madness that most folks get excited about. And honestly, I am a sissy about "knowingly plummeting into deep vats of murky water." I admit it. I did make it easily over the next obstacle, an A-frame cargo net plus metal ladder.

Another river crossing (with basically a cliff climb up the other side! Who am I, Isaac Caldiero?!), then a log carry, where the women's logs were ridiculously light. I would be insulted, if I wasn't benefiting so powerfully from it. One last traipse through the woods and river crossing before we came out onto a hilly section of farmland. Here was Stairway to Heaven, which if you have ever seen Ninja Warrior's devil steps...only harder. These are steeper, with about 18" to travel up between each step. I didn't even try this, nor did I see any other woman try it. A couple went up tentatively and grabbed the first step, only to NOPE their way right out of it before actually attempting to climb it. Sorry, no Stairway. Denied. (tm Wayne's World)

At this point my memory is a bit murky since allegedly (according to the course map) there are two obstacles before the next one I remember. Huh. Anyway, the next obstacle I remember is a slackline about 15' long, which I sucked at. Never done a slackline in my entire life. Apparently it's not just for hipsters anymore! Next was another balance obstacle where we had to walk across a 4"-wide balance beam that got shaky in the middle. I took this slow and made it easily. Afterward was a large slip wall (although not slippery) which I got up easily. At this point there was a very upset teenage girl near me who was yelling at her family on the sidelines and refusing to try any obstacles. I felt bad for her and tried a couple times to drag her out of it, but she was deep in The Abyss and was not having it. Poor kid. How she ended up doing this race, I have no idea.

We were now at the very end with only two obstacles left! The first, Cliffhanger, was a giant set of monkey bars sloped up then down with random bars that twist and you fall into deep water if you fail. NOPE. I knew that wasn't happening the second I arrived and overheard some folks mention the twisting. I totally skipped it along with the teenage girl. The final obstacle, Torpedo, was a ladder up to a pipe slide that dropped you at a steep angle into a vat of water that looked like a damn swamp. I could not in good conscience think of a reason NOT to do this obstacle, even though I really didn't want to, because I am not a fan of violent waterslides. But I took off my headband, sunglasses, and watch, set them carefully on the ground by the obstacle exit, and walked my middle-aged ass up the ladder and went down a waterslide. I did not die, and the water felt refreshing, so it was a huge success all around. Gathered my things and crossed the finish line in about 1:42, where I got a finisher shirt, medal, and a bottle of water. Got my checked bag and a pulled pork sandwich from the food truck, went back to my car and changed under a towel, then took off. No showers or change tents, which might have been nice, as I spent the car ride home reeking of swamp.

Pros:

-Unique obstacles. Some of this stuff I'd never seen before. Just awesome.
-Not too crowded. Only had to wait at a couple of obstacles, and not for long.
-Value. Nothing fancy, but it had most of the components I look for in a race (photos, medal, shirt, free bag check, chip timing, smooth organization).

Cons:

-HARD obstacles. If you are a completionist and not in great shape, you will probably leave disappointed.
-No bells and whistles, just like Gladiator Assault Challenge (although what it does have is better - see above). No beer, no food of any kind (except for purchase at the food truck).

Race Grade:  B+. Overall a good event, especially for the money (sign up early for a good deal). The obstacles being so difficult made it a bit of a downer though. It almost felt like I was cheating by skipping the insanely hard, impassable obstacles even though that is entirely within the rules. If I do this race again I will do a 15-burpee punishment so I avoid feeling bad about it :-P

Beast Mode, Plus A Rant About Burpees

Now that I have completed two-thirds of my Trifecta, it's time to stare down the barrel of the third and final wedge: the Spartan Beast. It will be 12-14 miles. It will have over 30 obstacles. It will take me at least 5 hours to complete. It will be the most ambitious thing I have done, including multiple marathons that I have finished without training for them. There is no such thing as "doing a Beast without training for it," or at least nobody who has lived to tell about it.

With the Beast now 2 months away, my training has ramped up significantly. Here's how it breaks down.

Monday: 2-mile walk; 1 hour hot yoga; 1 hour weights/calisthenics.
Tuesday: 90 minutes cardio (generally elliptical).
Wednesday: 2-mile walk; 1 hour hot yoga; 1 hour weights/calisthenics.
Thursday: 6-mile run; 1 hour hot  yoga.
Friday: obstacle training 1 hour.
Saturday: 1 hour hot yoga or rest day.
Sunday: 8+ mile run.

As you can see, this is a high volume of training, generally over 10 hours a week. Everything is essential and supports the race effort directly or supports the training. I plan Friday and Saturday to be fairly easy days, which is enough for me to recover (especially with this much hot yoga, which really aids my recovery a lot).

*****

Now it is time for me to rant a bit about burpees. Not about the burpees themselves, but about some Spartans who are the self-appointed Burpees Police. I understand that there is a sense of justice that one adopts when doing a race with specific rules and distances. Folks should not ever cut the course. One should never knock someone else off monkey bars (AHEM, Green Goblin at the Spartan Super Chicago). One should try to do obstacles by oneself if possible. But folks...there will be Spartans who cannot do things alone. There will be Spartans who need assistance on the Herc Hoist (not me, because the lord has gifted me with considerable size). There will be Spartans who need their asses hauled over walls (that's me, right there). There will be Spartans who cannot do 30 consecutive unmodified burpees for WHATEVER REASON (current exhaustion, injury, biomechanical failure, etc). It is not up to us as their fellow racers to make them feel like crap about this.

I have done races where I have had to modify some or all of my burpees (in my case generally because of feeling faint or having a temporary upper-body injury from an obstacle gone wrong), and the snide comments aimed toward me are something the sport can do without. I've been in the position of doing my burpees unmodified and seeing someone next to me banging out squat thrusts instead. You know what I think? "Get it, girl/dude." Modifying a burpee is not cheating, despite what some Spartan-race cultists believe. Generally speaking, unless you are gunning for an award, nobody else should give a single solitary poop what you are doing with your burpees. Run your own race, folks. If you and I are out there at the same time, it's because neither of us is in the elite or age group waves.

I have not yet overheard someone else comment on ANOTHER racer's modified burpees, but if they do I will defend them. At least they're doing the damn burpees! Skipping burpees entirely is some gangster garbage. Modifying them is not. People do what they can and they're trying, damnit. Be inclusive. Don't get your heckles up and raise your own blood pressure because you think other people aren't being fair to you. Get your medal and shut up about it.

Race Recap: Spartan Super Chicago

Spartan Super Chicago 6/23/18 Richmond, IL

Weather: 70s and sunny

Trails: Flat and extremely muddy farmland and recreation area

Distance: approx 8.25 miles, 29 obstacles

In the days leading up to my first-ever Super I had heard many warnings about the level of mud that was expected at the event. Not only was this a typically muddy course, there had been ceaseless rain in the area over the previous week that had turned muddy into MUDDY. Perhaps due to a base survival instinct, perhaps naivety, I assumed the warnings were at least slightly exaggerated. Spoiler alert: NOPE. This was, flat out, bar none, not even close, the MUDDIEST experience I can EVEN IMAGINE EVER HAVING in my ENTIRE LIFE. Not to be dramatic, but...just setting the stage for expectations for this recap. 

Parking at nearby Richardson Adventure Farm had a bit of a queue when I arrived at around 8 AM, but went smoothly as we were all directed efficiently into spaces in the large grassy field. There was a long line of shuttle buses waiting to quickly whisk us away for a 5-10 minute ride to the venue. Get off the bus and boom. Here it is. Thick, brownie-batter mud all the way up to the festival area. And in the festival area. Everywhere. Fortunately check-in was easy and they honored my request for an earlier start with no fuss (they moved me from 10:30 AM to 9:45 AM!). My shoes ruined already and with over an hour to wait for my start, I settled in along the fence by the finisher chute (one of the few square feet that had a patch of green) and oogled the elite men who had just finished and the elite women who were finishing. When the time came, I waded through the muck to bag check, then got into the start corral and did half-assed stretching while listening to everyone around me saying "yeah, the ENTIRE COURSE will be like this, this is not even the worst of it," and still refusing to entertain the notion that everyone is accurate. It was as if I had taken a bath in Delusion by Jinkx Monsoon. CONVINCE YOURSELF! Although I did take the time to prepare myself mentally for nonstop mud. I knew I wasn't leaving this race without a finisher medal, so who cares?

Started the race and the running was indeed slow-going. Not only was the mud treacherous and energy-sapping, there were these little creek crossings in ravines that brought the action to a screeching halt every 1/2 mile or so. We did 4' walls, then a 6' wall (which, by some miracle of Jesus, I made it over completely by myself! Grabbed the top, walked up my feet, and wrestled my Amazonian ass over it!), then a 7' wall, which I needed a boost on. Then came the monkey bars, which I figured would be no problem. But wait, these are not ordinary monkey bars. They are FAR APART and set at different heights. Even at 5'11" with a great reach, I had a lot of trouble getting enough swing to grab the next bar. On two separate occasions during this 90-second ordeal, I missed the next bar and had to save myself by grabbing my bar and kipping myself until I got enough swing to reach. Not gonna lie, I felt like Jessie Graf from American Ninja Warrior out there. I felt so strong and powerful and like "holy shit, I am going to MAKE IT!" Then this unholy bitch came out of nowhere barreling through on my left side and knocked me off the second-to-last bar. The bell was 3 feet in front of my face, and I got THROWN OFF. She didn't even apologize or turn around. I was so furious that I must confess to having violent thoughts. Chubby Short Girl With Green Shorts, if you are reading this, you have some horrific karma coming your way. I thought for a minute about whether I was going to do burpees and I thought "you know what? NO. I did NOT FAIL that shit. I got KNOCKED DOWN with one bar to go." Some people might disagree with my decision to skip the burpees, but it was the beginning of what I knew would be a long day and I was already feeling super angry. (Also the monkey bars tore calluses off the pads of each hand, so...ouch. Throughout the rest of the race I got mud and dirt in them and was just like "...this really smarts.")

Photo taken seconds before disaster.

The good news: I did calm down again after about 5 minutes! I had decided with all the mud it was critical for me to use my hot-yoga-developed focus and presence to remain as calm and zen as possible. Every step taken was one less step remaining. I took time to deeply breathe and accept my muddy fate. And it worked, I must say. My attitude about the mud was quite relaxed throughout the race. Let The Mud Happen To You. Continuing right along, I got over the inverted wall with no problems, as well as Herc Hoist (which thankfully they must have put out the bags after the rain ended, because they were light). Twister was an epic fail. I made it nowhere. Thirty burpees! I was in good company! And I managed to find a patch of not-deep-mud to do them on. After that was the bucket carry (a photographer caught me looking fabulous - I like the bucket, it's easy) and Atlas Carry, which was somehow tougher than in Minnesota despite this being drier. 

Lookin' good and feeling good!

Then came Rolling Mud and the dunk wall, followed immediately by a barbed wire crawl. This. Was. MISERABLE. It's as close as I came all day to really losing my zen. That barbed wire crawl through muddy water, scraping your knees and elbows along countless rocks of all sizes, getting thick mud DOWN MY PANTS, was truly a horrible experience. After the race I developed many bruises from this obstacle. The less said about it, the better. After this was a weird area where we went up and down these stairs through a "castle" of sorts. Interesting! Then was the Z-walls, which were so muddy and we were all so muddy that tons of people were failing them. I made it through one step before I just slipped right off. Thirty burpees. 

Someone show me how to do Z-walls with mud opera gloves.

Next up was a giant wall that is listed as 8' on the map but I am sure it was at least 9'. I'm nearly 6' tall and this wall TOWERED over me. I needed one strong man lifting each of my legs to get me to grab onto the top, which was slick with mud. Getting down was terrifying but I made it without dying. Next up was Bender, which I'd never done before. It's basically a tilted ladder that you crawl up and over, but the ladder starts 6' off the ground. After getting a boost to the first rung, I very carefully crawled/walked my slippery shoes up and over this thing and back down. HARROWING! There was a lady out there with a service dog that would not stop barking (I thought service dogs were better trained than that?) and it wasn't helping my nerves, that's for sure. After Bender came a second barbed wire crawl which was not wet or rocky, but the dryness made it hard to crawl. The service dog crawled under with its human, which was neat. But the lady was totally judging how I was crawling. She's like "you should roll!" I said "I get too dizzy." "So turn around and roll the other way." "I have a Camelbak on." Like geez, lady, just do your race and I'll do mine. I moved far over so the rollers could pass me, anyway.

At some point during the running portion of the race (on one of the rare somewhat-dry stretches), a good-looking guy playfully asked me "got any goodies in that pack?" I told him I had Nutter Butters because I like having cookies mid-race, and he said "I LOVE cookies mid-race." It was, by far, the sexiest interaction I have ever had while soaked in filth. Thank you, Anonymous Spartan Man, for brightening a very muddy day with a little harmless flirtation! Being in my mid-30s and married, it was a rare treat. :)

Anyway, after the last barbed wire crawl were several climb-over obstacles. Vertical Cargo and Stairway to Sparta went fine, despite being slick and spooky. I needed a boost on the latter. Then was the 5' hurdles which I am normally good at, but this time on the first hurdle I abruptly and violently pulled my right trapezius and nearly threw up/fainted from the pain. Despite feeling like I might puke I managed to get boosted over the second hurdle by a very kind older man. Walk it off, Clare, walk it off. Got to the hay wall and easily hopped up and over it without using my shoulders too much. After a super mucky section I saw Olympus and just started laughing. There is NO WAY I can do Olympus under ideal conditions, let alone when I've just strolled through 8" deep mud for miles. I just kept on walking right past Olympus AND the burpee pit, which was still in the deep mud. I vowed to do my burpees on dry (drier) ground. Next up was the plate drag, where you pull a weighted sled out with a rope and back with a chain. This was quite easy for me because heavy shit is my jam. Apparently the men's sleds were nearly immovable. 

Then came my nemesis, the Rope Climb. Didn't even bother. I found a small dry hill a bit off course just past the ropes and settled in for 60 burpees. I did these modified because I was still worried about my trapezius and frankly 60 unmodified burpees would have taken me forever. This was around mile 7.5 and I'd been racing for 3.5 hours. It still took me a while to do them, and then I enjoyed an easy-peasy sandbag carry before failing the spear throw and doing 30 now-unmodified burpees. My trapezius felt much better by that point, thankfully. Although the mud was now causing my calf to cramp a bit just trying to get my foot out of the muck with every single step. We came out into the now-crowded festival area to the tire flip, and there were a lot of people watching, so I picked a good lady tire right in front of the crowd and flipped that bitch over and back like it was nothing. Putting on a show now because I knew another failure was coming up. Easy A-frame cargo net, and an easy slip wall (the mud was all dry on it). Finally, the multi-rig. It had 3 rings, a pipe, and 3 more rings. I know how to do rings but for some reason I could not even get them going in this event. Maybe because I'd been out there for 4 hours? But I did 30 burpees while wanly staring at the finish line just ahead. Finally finished my burpees, jumped over the fire, and crossed the line in about 4:05! Got medal, food/drinks, and a finisher photo in the mud and muck.

At laaaaast, my mu-uud has come along

Afterward I picked up my bag, which was a cluster. The volunteers were letting people find their own bags and just checking to make sure their wristbands matched when they were leaving. It was taking people several minutes to locate their bags. Finally I found mine, found the hose-down area, saw the long line and thought "forget it" and decided to just be disgusting until I got to my hotel, got my free beer, drank half of it, then got on a bus back to the parking area and drove to my hotel with my shoes off.

Pros:

-Obstacles played to my strengths today - some Spartan standards, and lots of climbing and heavy stuff. Sadly, the mud made all the obstacles harder and some of them nearly impossible even for the elites (several elite men totally skipped the tire flip).

-Camaraderie. The mud brought us all together and everyone was super friendly. I got boosts everywhere I needed them. 

-Volunteers. These folks were troopers in that mud and were all very communicative.

-Challenging. I went there for a good workout and by God, I got one.

Cons:

-On-race nutrition needed. They only had chews at around mile 6. Fortunately I had my Camelbak full of Nutter Butters or I would have been screwed.

-MUD. This course is just Mud City. It is Mud Hell, in fact. A solid 90% of the course was in THICK, wet mucky mud. The few dry sections felt like a vacation in Malibu by comparison, though. And frankly I perversely enjoy the feeling of doing such a difficult Super. Lots of folks online said this race was harder than any Beast they'd ever done. That makes me feel prepared for my actual Beast.

-Hose area. Too long a wait, and I heard the water pressure sucked anyway so I'm glad I didn't stand in line for it.

Race Grade:  B+. If the mud hadn't been such a huge factor, it would have been an A. This was a Spartan event that lived up to my prior standards, and it gave me a great deal of relief after the Minnesota disaster. (Post script to that: Spartan did give me a credit for a free future Sprint event, so I am signed up for a second lap of the upcoming St. Louis Stadium Sprint!)

Race Recap: Spartan Sprint Minnesota

Spartan Sprint Minnesota 6/9/18 Welch Village, MN

Weather: Low 70s, cloudy -> raining -> thunderstorms

Trails: Ski mountain. Massive grassy hills with muddy sections.

Distance: approx 3.8 miles, 21 obstacles

Set on Welch Village ski resort, this race is part of Spartan's new Mountain Series. I had received nigh on apocalyptic warnings about the enormity of the hills and considered myself well-prepared. Upon arrival at the event (smooth check-in) and seeing it in person, I knew I'd be in for quite a day, quads-wise. I was concerned about the weather holding up, so I asked to get into an earlier wave. The earliest they'd put me is 12:15, even though I'd signed up with my trifecta pass so I wasn't trying to "get a discounted morning time." The gatekeepers at the corral let me in for the noon wave, anyway.

First thing we did in this race is run (hike) up the black diamond run of the ski hill. This was steep, slippery, and crowded. You could tell immediately who was wearing their old running shoes instead of actual OCR shoes or trail shoes. Tip: ALWAYS wear OCR or trail shoes. The same terrain that makes someone else fall and sprain something, you can jog down like a mountain goat. Anyhow, the hill went on and on but nevertheless we persisted. At the top was a 4' wall, then back down the giant hill. At the bottom of the hill were two 5' hurdles that got us right in the babymakers, then back up a hill to Olympus, which I failed terribly. I need to figure this obstacle out eventually. Slick feet didn't help. Thirty burpees! Some ladies and I talked about what foods motivate us, and it turns out I was the lone soul on Team Taco (vs their Team Cake). Back down the hill and through mucky woods to the sandbag carry, where I made damn sure to grab a WOMEN'S sandbag this week, and sure enough it was easy peasy, aside from the mud everywhere. 

After that it was a short jaunt to the rope climb, which I immediately failed. Thirty burpees! And I found a patch of grassy area so I didn't have to get too muddy, score! Turned the corner all "WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS?!" to find a barbed wire crawl through mud. For good measure, they sprayed us with cold water in the last 15-20 feet and we had to crawl through a giant puddle and I yelled "MINNESOTA, YOU ARE DEAD TO ME! I WILL ROOT AGAINST THE VIKINGS TWICE AS HARD!" Next was an inverted wall (wrongly labeled Vertical Cargo on the map), which was a few inches taller (and muddier) than last week's in Ohio but I still got up it solo. 

Immediately after the inverted wall was the Atlas Carry. All I saw was a field of flags on sticks and giant balls everywhere. I asked the volunteer sitting nearby what we were supposed to do and she wanly said "I think there's, like, some smaller balls over there..." WT actual F. She seemed to have no idea what an Atlas Carry is, and the field was so disorganized that it wasn't even slightly intuitive. Fortunately several veterans helped everyone piece together that you pick up a ball (red for women, black for men), carry it a certain distance, do 5 burpees, then pick up the ball again and carry it back. The balls weren't in their proper spots so it was hard to tell what we were supposed to do, and there was no sign explaining it. The volunteer was really important on this obstacle to get everyone going, and she dropped the ball (DAD JOKES!). Terrible. Anyway, the ball was like 50 lb and awkward to pick up but I just got my forearms kind of under it and rolled it onto my hands.

We hit the 2-mile marker and I was on a pretty even 32-minute mile pace, which I was frankly thrilled about with such a crazy hilly course and one burpee obstacle each mile. We finished ascending the mountain again and did the A-frame cargo net. At this point it had started drizzling and we were all concerned about being on this giant metal structure on top of the mountain, which gave us the motivation to get up and down quickly and jog down the hill to the next obstacle, a 6' wall. It was a bit over 6', actually, but I got a boost from a couple good people! Continued down the hill to the Rolling Mud (worse this week than in Ohio) and the dunk wall (which didn't let you cheat this time). Held my nose and covered my eyes, and the photographer was like "you should do it again without your eyes covered so I can get a better picture!" Sorry, man, I have to keep my contacts in my head guaranteed. Immediately afterward was the slip wall, which was not muddy at all, merely wet. Much easier to get up and down. Barely needed any strategy.

It was raining pretty hard by this point and the festival/crowds were directly in front of us with the spear throw. I kept in mind all my practice from last week, geared up, threw it, nailed the tip into the hay, HOORAY!...and the spear just went WOMP WOMP sad trombone down onto the ground. Dammit. It had enough accuracy, but not enough "oomph." Gotta combine accuracy and oomph next time. Before I could do my burpees, though, the volunteer started yelling "there's lightning in the area, we've gotta get off the course." Confusion. Go where, exactly? We all made our way past the next obstacle (Twister) and exited through the fortunately-nearby finish chute. I stopped my watch at 1 hour 25 minutes, just before 1:30 PM. Got my bag and headed out to my car as directed to wait out the storm.

Here's where it gets bad. I immediately discovered that I had only 1 bar of phone service. There wasn't a strong enough signal to make phone calls, let alone access the internet. So I had no way of finding out what the weather report was or seeing what updates Spartan was providing online. (Turns out the latter was ZERO, which is infuriating.) I was able to send and receive texts from my husband who said the radar looked awful but there were no Spartan updates. Around 2 PM I drove my car a bit closer to the main festival so I could hear announcements on the loudspeaker. There were none. At 2:30 I jogged through the deluge to find a volunteer who had been told absolutely nothing about the status of the race but said the radar looked awful and we'd only seen 1/10th of what was to come. I realized by the time the storm passed they might just close the whole thing down anyway, and I had a 3-hour drive home, so I sadly took off my chip and left. [It turns out they did reopen the course at about 3:30-4 PM...nobody knows for sure because Spartan NEVER ANNOUNCED ANYTHING.] There were a lot of people upset about the total lack of communication. It is difficult to wait indefinitely without any food or water for a race that may never start back up, and it is unforgivable that the race officials couldn't at least give us the same delay updates they'd deemed appropriate for the elite racers that morning. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. I've enjoyed the Spartan events I've done in the past, but their response to my tweet to them today was very "we DID update you, you're wrong and we're right." It doesn't make me want to give them my money, that's for sure. I just hope there are no weather delays in my three other Spartan races on my calendar, because obviously the organization cannot handle them.

Pros:

-Course. Very challenging and nicely spread-out obstacles. 

-Volunteers were for the most part very nice and trying their best to deal with the weather delay. Any participants who took their wrath out on the equally-clueless volunteers deserve a good slap.

Cons:

-HORRIBLE communication about the weather delay. This is totally inexcusable. No social media updates on any platform in the afternoon, and volunteers were not told anything to pass along to participants.

-HORRIBLE response to complaints about said communication issues. Spartan's official position seems to be "you're wrong, we're perfect, eff off." They are the Donald Trump of race companies.

-I didn't see any photographers until the dunk wall. 

-Atlas Carry volunteer sucked. Make sure volunteers know what their obstacle is, at least.

Race Grade: D. The course is basically what saved this one. I am honestly (and sadly) hesitant to sign up for future races because of the "we don't give a shit" attitude from the Spartan corporation. 

Race Recap: Spartan Sprint Ohio

Spartan Sprint Ohio 6/3/18 Garrettsville, OH

Weather: 70s, sunny

Trails: Off-road recreation track - sand, mud, some water. Mostly flat with small hills.

Distance: 4.25 miles, 21 obstacles

This race was conveniently located near the Ohio Turnpike while we were conveniently on our way back home from a week in Pittsburgh, so this race fit nicely into my schedule. Arrived at 9:15 AM for my 10:30 wave start. Parking and check-in went very smoothly. I could probably have cut it a bit closer for my arrival time but why stress? There were a lot of obstacles visible to spectators because the course layout put a ton of stuff in the final mile. We passed the time watching people emerge muddy and soaked from under the dunk wall, which thrilled my toddler. At 10:20 I got into my corral and off we went right on time 10 minutes later!

Hopped over a 4-foot wall easily and ran through the muddy woods for a while. We finally came out into a field and did O-U-T only there was no "under" component, just over and through. From there was more running, a vertical cargo net (about 15-20 feet high, I'd guess), then more running before an inverted wall (which, being tall, I was able to grab the top of and walk myself up the rungs...shorter people would have more trouble). We also ran through a pond of some sort, which was murky enough that you couldn't see the bottom and some of the steps were "doozies," as my grandmother would say if she were not currently dead. It was around this moment when I realized that my new Reebok shoes (which are fairly minimalist) drain really well. It basically felt like I was barefoot. This was quite pleasing because that is exactly why I chose these shoes for this sprint event.

At this point we reached the 2-mile marker. That's right, only 4 obstacles in the first 2 miles. I was at a solid 12-minute mile pace. Then we hit the sandbag carry. I couldn't see exactly how far this was, but I picked up my ladies' sandbag and immediately was like OOF. "How heavy is this?" I asked the volunteer. "It's supposed to be 40 lb" he said. I'm smelling bullshit, and for once it's not the vague manure smell on the muddy trails. I had serious trouble getting this allegedly 40-lb bag onto my shoulder, but I wrestled it up there and made it up a super steep hill about 3-4 stories high and SO STEEP that if you stepped in the wrong place you would slip and fall. At the top of the hill I readjusted my sandbag to the other shoulder and was having a hell of a time with it. I realized this bag is NOT 40 lb. Not even close. (Spoiler alert: a men's sandbag ended up mixed in with the women's bags. This was, in fact, an 80-lb sandbag, which is half my body weight.) Went down the steep hill, which was rough. Tip: don't walk on any gravel. A photographer was at the bottom hidden in a shady spot. I saw him just in time to get ONE smiling picture. Back up and down the hill I went with my giant bag before we could finally drop it back off. This was at least 1/3 mile and took me a good 10 minutes. Brutal.

This picture is next to "brutal" in the dictionary.

Jogged right over to the spear throw and failed the heck out of it. I decided to take advantage of the low crowds and practice doing another throw every 10 burpees. I managed to hit the hay bale each time but it wasn't in position to stick. Got good tips from the volunteer that I will have to try next week (Spartan Sprint Minneapolis)! Next up was the 7-foot wall, and while I had gotten over a 6-foot wall solo in the festival area (they had an opportunity to practice a 6' wall and a rope climb, the rope climb went poorly), I needed the help of a very kind middle-aged man to haul my left foot up to the top. Bless that man! Afterwards it was a short jaunt to the Herc Hoist, which I did with minimal problems.

After the Herc Hoist was another sandy, muddy run to Twister, which I attempted to do sideways. Hey, I don't know any better. I got about 1/3 of the way across before I realized that this was not going to work. Live and learn. I will try it backwards next time. Did my burpees and carried on. But at this point I was realizing that I wasn't really recovering from the burpees at all. My heart rate was over 170 and wasn't coming back. My assumption is that I hadn't had enough electrolytes and carbs that day or the day before, so that's my fault. I had to walk a lot more of the last couple miles, and between that and the burpees and the increasing obstacle load per mile, my pace was going down the toilet really fast. All told, my third mile was 40 minutes, after my first two miles had been 12 minutes each. Another run (well, walk) through the muck and we arrived back near the start line and the energetic crowd of spectators to find the rope climb, which I didn't even try. Nope. Not today, Satan. I knew I'd fail and I didn't want to tear my hands up, so straight to 30 burpees and I was joined by a gal about my age who fell off her rope. We were like "is it just me or is this race, like, crazy hard?!"

Easy obstacle up next: the A-frame cargo net. Easy up and down, then into the first of two barbed wire crawls. These were about 40-50 yards long and felt like they went on forever. They were low enough to require either snake crawling or rolling, and I can't roll because I get tremendously dizzy, so snake crawl it was, over recently cut vegetation that was quite prickly. I AM MIDDLE-AGED. My husband got some pictures of that misery, at least, and my son was just adorable and I didn't want to look like a wuss in front of him. Next was Olympus, which I'd instructed my husband to videotape, and thank god he screwed up the camera because it was a quick and epic fail. Thirty burpees, with my toddler trying to come onto the course and "race with Mama" the whole time. By the time he's 6 years old, he will be better at this stuff than me, guaranteed.

Away from the spectators now and through Rolling Mud, where I got so many quarter-size rocks in my Reeboks that I had to actually stop and empty them. I can ignore tiny rocks, but not big ones. Another run through sandy and muddy woods and we were in a huge field. Bucket carry! I picked that bad boy up (this was definitely a female bucket!) and got to stepping. About halfway through I turned it upside down to hold it by the much-rounder lid, which helped. After what felt like an eternity (probably only 1/4 mile) I put down the bucket and started the second barbed wire crawl, which had fewer stalks of vegetation and more rocks. My knees and arms developed a TON of bruises from this garbage. Then coming up from under the last wire, I pulled my left groin. GO FIGURE. Limped the next few obstacles.

The Armer, basically the Atlas carry but with a small chain on a weighted ball, was next. Out and back around a pole, total of about 20 yards. Easy, the ball didn't weigh much, maybe 40-50 lb. After that was my most anticipated obstacle: the multi-rig! More like the uni-rig, since it only had rings. I'd recently learned how to do these and went out there and crushed it. Husband got great video of it, thank goodness. 

Finally, an easy grip obstacle.

After that was the dunk wall, then an extremely muddy slip wall that everyone seemed to be falling on. Good gravy. I realized I had to keep my feet as high as possible on the wall, and try to ignore that the rope itself was so muddy it was hard to grip. The hardest part was the transition at the top from walking up the wall to holding the top of the wall securely. I managed to do this all by myself, which I was tremendously proud of. I slung that pulled-groin leg over the wall by the grace of god and climbed down the back of the wall to the fire jump and finish!

"Is my life insurance up to date?"

After the finish they immediately put a medal around my neck and started handing me drinks and food. I was like ".....I AM LITERALLY ENCRUSTED IN WET MUD." I asked a volunteer to just pour the water cup she was offering me to drink on my hands so I could wash up enough to hold my stuff. They were giving away free reusable grocery bags at the festival, they should have handed those to us at the end of the race to carry our food/drinks/t-shirts. This is my only complaint about the organization of the race. Well, that and that when I went to hose off in the cold wash area, the walkway leading to it was totally flooded, so I couldn't get my feet clean. We had to walk through giant mud puddles back to the festival anyway. But overall, it was a lovely race and a great challenge, with 4 obstacle failures (all on difficult obstacles).

Freshly gross, or grossly fresh?

Pros:

-Organization. This was a well-oiled machine of an event, at least from my perspective. 

-Photos. Not only did I get great pics on all the obstacle spots, there was a roaming photographer at the festival who got not one, not two, but THREE amazing pictures of my adorable son.

-Spartan obstacles. They are great. Challenging and diverse, for the most part.

Cons:

-Two barbed wire crawls? Come on, mix it up a bit more.

-Some bastard got a men's sandbag into the women's sandbag box and I got screwed by it!

-Give us something to carry the finishing stuff, we are so filthy and it is not cute.

Race Grade: A-. Only a couple "hiccups" in an overall excellent event. 

Race Recap: Gladiator Assault Challenge

Gladiator Assault Challenge 5/19/18 Boone, IA

Weather: 70 degrees, sunny

Trails: Ski resort - technical trails with constant, steep hills

Distance: 6 miles, approx. 30 obstacles

Drove to Boone and the Seven Oaks Recreation Area for a 6-mile obstacle race on their ski slopes. Parking was free and close to the venue, which was nice. Everything was close together and easy to find. Dropped my bag and headed for the start line, which was at the top of the ski slope. Holy hell, that slope is steep and rough. It's like walking on a treadmill set for a 10-15% incline. Waves were being released every 20 minutes with a cannon blast from the National Guard that had everyone literally plugging their ears. It was so loud, y'all.

We took off down the ski slope and there was only so fast you could go down these hills. If you got to running, you'd roll your ankle or just tumble down the hill. First obstacle was being dunked in muddy water twice. Then we climbed up the hill again halfway and had to high-step through a cargo net. Then we were dunked in muddy water again. Then we went through Sink Hole, which is practically QUICKSAND MUD. I literally got completely stuck and was worried how I would even get out. I can imagine several shoes were lost in this pit. Fortunately I managed to get the hell out of Sink Hole, but it was one of the single worst experiences of my 35 years on Earth. I also spent the rest of the race with rocks in my shoes, most of which probably settled in during this obstacle. After that we tore off into the woods for a good length of running, then encountered Down and Dirty, where we were...surprise!...dunked in muddy water again, then we used a rope to climb up to the top of a slope which was populated by several National Guardsmen who were working the cannon. They were totally deadpan and reminded me of the Buckingham Palace guards. Also, let the record show that I was faster at climbing the rope up the slope than the athletic dudes who were annoyingly ahead of me. We went right back down the slope on our butts using a tarp as a sort of slip 'n slide, only less fun, because at the bottom of the slide was MORE MUDDY WATER OF COURSE.

We made it back up through the woods to the top of the ski slope, where we had to do a low crawl through mud, then scale the Summit Assault, an A-frame with a wall/board ladder on one side and a cargo net on the back end. The cargo net was LOUSY with mud and extremely slippery. I got up the wall in a few seconds because I am a great climber, but getting back down was terrifying. Spoiler alert: future walls would be much worse. From there we continued to the Wall of Shame, which were basically 2x4s that formed a low ledge for the feet and high ledge for the hands, and you had to work your way across it for about 40 feet. This was easy for me because my OCR shoes have great traction despite being muddy, and I have big hands/long fingers that made the hand holds really easy to grip. Afterward we went back up the ski slope and did a low crawl under barbed wire, thankfully this wasn't too difficult and I didn't get cut up (I saw others who were not so lucky).

After this was Vertigo, which was a short (about 15' tall) vertical cargo net. I tried scaling it in the middle and it moved way too much, so I moved to the outside and it was a breeze. After that was another long section through the woods, which contained a river run that was much cleaner and a good chance to wash off our muddy hands and faces. Another long section through the woods and we came out near the start area at the top of the ski slope, where there was a much-needed water stop and the Wobbler, a (thankfully) stationary log (there were 3 logs to choose from, all identical) that crossed a water pit. I didn't know how deep the water was and resolved to not find out. I went sideways and slowly inched myself across the 40' log/pit, and stayed dry! I saw another girl who was not so lucky, but she was propped in a split between two logs and I think that was a bad strategy. Points for originality and style, though! 

Next was the most diabolical, unholy obstacle of all time: Monkey Mayhem. This was about 30' of monkey bars across a muddy pit of unknown depth. I noticed everyone was failing it and was like "are the bars slippery?" and a dude said "they spin." THEY. SPIN. The bars spin. This I was unprepared for, gang. The bars were also a good two feet apart, so you couldn't just hang low and gut it out, you had to swing from one to the next...with twisting bars. This was not okay. I made it across one bar and it was just moving too much for me to get to the next one, so I dropped down into the 2-feet-deep muddy water (again! Drink!) and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. This was my ONLY obstacle failure of the day, fortunately I was in excellent company since almost nobody made it across.

Right after this we had Tunnel Trouble, where we had to crawl through plastic tunnels about 2 feet in diameter. The tunnels had a couple inches of muddy water (DRINK!) in them for good measure. I am quite claustrophobic but I managed to get through without panicking by focusing on executing a good snake crawl (which I said in my last update I am getting good at, so hooray!). The muddy water had a lot of grass in it. At this point my new friend Husky 30-Year-Old Man and I were joking a LOT about all this crazy shit. He had rocks in his tunnel and was worried that his huskiness would result in getting stuck in the tunnel, which would be my worst nightmare. Oh my god.

Anyway, we went on to a series of walls called Steeplechase, the first two about 3' tall ("right in the babymaker! Gotta go back home and tell your spouse you can't have kids!") and the second two about 8' tall, with boards to climb up. Once you get up there, the top is so muddy and slick that it was scary to get down. I managed to grab the edge and lower myself both times, though. We headed back off into the woods and heard the start cannon boom again (it was booming every 20 minutes, remember) and I exclaimed that I feel like I'm in the goddamn Hunger Games, which got some laughs. After the run, we encountered Combat Zone, which was a bunch of logs of different heights set on their ends that we needed to balance on as we moved across. Thankfully I am tall and this wasn't too hard to navigate, but the logs were pretty far apart (about 4') which made it tricky. They varied in diameter from about a foot to about 6". The small ones were tougher. Here is where I basically joined up with a group of middle-aged men who were in pretty damn good shape. I thought "if I can hang with these guys I'll be okay!" After that we scaled a big dirt hill, then came upon a field of little A-frames called Plinko. It was basically the quintuple steps from American Ninja Warrior, only a little shorter and there were about a dozen of them. The middle-aged men said "we're watching YOU first." I had to jump carefully, grab the top, then set myself up at the edge to jump to the next. Made it all the way! Go me!

Into the woods where we quickly came across The Great Descent. This was, essentially, a mud chasm 3' wide with a rope hanging in the middle of it. The middle-aged men were very amused by my "oh HELL NAW, that is deep and sticky, that's what SHE said" wisecrackery. I did manage to get through fairly easily by grabbing the rope and straddling the chasm in a sort of side splits and walking my ass backwards down the giant hill. It went on and on. The Great Descent is RIGHT. And the rope didn't last forever. Eventually we were just trying not to die as we semi-slid down a muddy hill. Finally at the bottom we waded through a muddy creek (DRINK!) that would be considered "impassable" by settlers in the westward expansion. 

What goes down must come back up. At the top we encountered the High Horse Hurdles, which were walls made of 4x4s a few feet apart that you had to climb up and over. Three planks high, then 4 planks high, then another 3 planks high. At least these were not super muddy and slippery! Then we came to Carry Your Wood and a water stop. I asked the volunteer if he'd heard a lot of "that's what she said" jokes today and he said surprisingly few. Carry Your Wood is a misnomer because you are actually carrying a concrete block around a 1/4 mile loop. I was a damn beast on this one. Although everyone, myself included, was walking, I managed to catch and pass a few people and by the end was caught back up to my middle-aged posse, who I stayed right behind as we all jogged through the woods on the longest continuous section of flat-enough-to-run trail.

We went through the stream again (another chance to clean off) and my middle-aged posse was faster than me as we came into On The Up and Up, which was a real cutesy name for this section and THEY THINK THEY'RE CLEVER, DON'T THEY? This was the last demonically steep uphill of the race, and it was DEMONICALLY STEEP. People were pulled off the course doubled over. I passed about 10 people and I am not fast. I just figured I'd keep moving even at a slow pace because this hill ain't gonna climb itself. At the top of the hill a dozen people were resting and I joked that we needed to order a keg and some pizzas. But I didn't rest, because I saw the downhill of the ski slope and knew this was the finishing gauntlet!

At the bottom of the hill was Tunnel Trouble again, this time we were on the top level of tunnels which were dry. This actually made it harder to get through. The snake crawl is easier when wet. From there was Cage Crawl, which was a super original and terrifying obstacle wherein there is chainlink fence atop a pit of muddy water (DRINK). The best way through is to go face-up and pull yourself through the water along the chainlink, keeping your face as close to the fence as you can to avoid being submerged. I got in there and floated in the water, easily and quickly pulling myself (it was like climbing the fence, only you are underneath it) to the other end of the pit, which was about 50' long and felt like it lasted forever. It was pretty freaky because at one point there is so little space between the fence and the water that your ears are submerged. The best way is to keep your face looking directly up, then water won't get into your ears. I learned that the hard way. At the end I was standing up and a dude was coming FAST, I had to jog out of his way and when he got up he was like "I can't see!" Poor guy.

After that, we went through the Spider Web, which is some cords zig-zagging underneath an A-frame. It was basically the same as the one in the Warrior Challenge, so I did just fine this time. No cramps. We looped back around and went up the aforementioned A-frame, and the back end consisted of very slippery 2x4 ladder with the rungs almost 3 feet apart. So scary to get down. People could legit die. But I survived, ran across the nearby finish line (finish time 1:55 and change) and got myself a surprisingly refreshing Miller Lite. 

Had to wait about 20 minutes in a long line to be able to hose myself off with cold water at the end. None of that was particularly pleasant. But then I picked up my bag, dried off and changed in the women's changing room, and purchased/ate a delicious bratwurst before heading back home with a bag full of dripping, muddy clothes and shoes. Once I got home I spent 10 minutes hosing them off so they'd be barely clean enough to stick in the washer.

Pros:

-Obstacles. Besides the ones where you are just dunked relentlessly in mud, the structures were nice (and doable even while muddy) and while most were climbs/walls, there was a bit of diversity in there too. I would have liked at least one more grip-heavy obstacle that wasn't freakin' impossible. Like real monkey bars.

-Beer is free and literally steps from the finish line. 

-Trails. This was SUCH a hilly course. People were taking breaks in the middle of hills left and right. People were dying out there because of the hills. It presented a great challenge (both ascents and descents) and a good time. We also got to go through a nice clear stream a couple times.

Cons:

-Low rent. This race has no photographers and no chip timing, which are two things I consider nearly essential for an event. The lack of photographers was a TRAGEDY. The finishing spread consisted of bananas, Miller Lite, and water in cups (a bottle would have been nice). There was other food available for purchase.

-Mud was ridiculous. Just WAY too muddy for my taste. There were ropes in the middle of the freakin' forest that we were supposed to use to help us ascend/descend steep hills, and the ropes were caked with mud. It was mud for the sake of mud. Mud should serve a purpose. I am not a crackpot.

Race Grade: B-. The race would have gotten a B+ even without photographers if there had been at least 5 fewer "let's dunk these A-holes in mud yet again" obstacles.

Less Obvious Race Day Prep

I've done a lot of races in my life, probably 60 road races and a few OCRs. The obvious key to race preparation is a great taper, whether it's a couple days or a couple weeks. But there is so much that goes into preparing yourself mentally and physically for a race that is NOT as obvious as "eat more carbs."

1) Trim your nails. Toes and fingers. If you have long or manky toenails you will live to regret it. With OCR, fingernails being short are also critical. I normally keep nice, long fingernails, but a few days before the race I trim them as short as I can stand, and make sure I have no hangnails. Toenails must be as short as possible. Don't trim them on race day, since if you screw up you want to have some recovery time.

2) Take the day before a race totally, completely off. This is as much for mental excitement as physical recovery. You want to be DYING to get moving. You want to feel like a hyper dog that has been let out of a kennel. To that end...

3) Read a book that makes you feel like a BAMF. Some of my faves: "Off Course" by Erin Beresini; Arnold Schwarzenegger's "Education of a Bodybuilder;" "The Long Walk" by Stephen King (seriously. You cannot feel sorry for yourself after reading a book wherein teen boys are shot in the head for stopping).

4) Make a list, like a physical paper list, of all the stuff you might need before, during or after the race. Start packing a week in advance. If you need a fuel belt or a Camelbak, revise your list down to bare essentials. Make sure you know what you're doing with your car key. Is there a bag check at the event? Know and plan for all of this in advance. You don't want to be stumbling around trying to get everything together on race day, or even the night before. Have all of your directions to the venue printed out beforehand, or plugged into an app or whatever the kids are doing these days.

5) I'm not much of a drinker. When someone asks me how many drinks I have I'll say "I dunno, maybe 2." They'll ask "2 a day? A week?" and I'll say "maybe two a year." But make sure one of those drinks isn't in the days before a race. Save the beer for after the race. It might not hurt but it certainly won't help. And do not, in the week before a race, introduce any suspicious foods into your diet. Thursday night is not the time to try the popular sashimi joint when you have a Saturday morning event.