BEYONDexistence

Spartan races have given me everything from adrenaline and pride, to laughs and tears, to bruises and peanut butter sandwiches, to near hypothermia and a conditioned response of joy at the sound of a cow bell… but what I’m most thankful for is the feeling. On race days we are excited, triumphant, encouraged – but more importantly, encouragING – and proud. And we’re also our crazy, quirky, dirt loving, muscle loving, playful selves. However weird we can’t help being (or we’re trying to be), its only applauded, never questioned.

I don’t know why adults aren’t supposed to play. I think everyone should play.

I’ve claimed some races to be my favorite in the past, but as I lost sight of Ohio in my rearview mirror, I realized I’d not only had a great race weekend, but one of the best weekends of my life.

I began 2016, gas pedal to the floor, eyes on the prize, whatever sayings you want to put here… but I was ready to beat my own records, to push my own limits, to do what I once thought I couldn’t. I came into the year feeling strong and working hard. And then I moved to a new town, joined a new gym, and had to keep my momentum up without my gym friends or comfortable environment. But I did that. Behind my absolute love of muscles, excitement by my own strength, and passion to push myself, is also a long debated Spartan Annual Pass. When I sat on the idea for a few days too long, ordering the pass as a Christmas gift from my parents and grandma, I arrived at the Spartan website on Christmas Eve to find that at midnight of the night before, the price had increased from $550 to $700 and my heart sank because what was already an expensive gift from my family was now too expensive. But, so badly I wanted to go all out for the races this year, so after some back and forth, I decided I’d split the pass 4 ways.

I struggle with pretty constant pain and small failures of my body, and in late February, my knees sent squats and BOX JUMPS…. MY FAVORITE to the back burner. 😦 I became more careful, mixed up my workouts, took days off. And then one day I went for a run and came back with a stress fractured foot. WHAT. A self diagnosis, say what you will, but 8 weeks later I just went for my first trail run and first yoga class and felt only good feelings. I learned patience, and terrible frustration. I learned to better respect my body, and to stay dedicated.

4 weeks ago, I scratched from what would have been my first race of the season. And a few days ago, I didn’t run what would have been my first half marathon.

For 6 full weeks I tried to keep strong, but pretty much all legs and cardio was out of the question, and that was hard. On the day that made 6 weeks, I walked the 15-mile Spartan Beast at Mountain Creek, NJ and it was one of the most trying days I’ve ever had. One week later, I drove 15 hours to Ohio alone and, well, I never expected I’d dedicate a night in the coffee shop to writing about it.

My adventure began on Friday morning when I left Vermont, heading South, coffee in hand (or cupholder), smile on my mouth. First stop: Pittsburgh… 12 hours later. When I sat in nearly stopped traffic for 2 hours BECAUSE THEY WERE PAVING 80 😦 I thought, ‘I might not reach Ohio if I suffocate in my car,’ which was submerged in a cloud of burning oil…

(Side note: $2,000 later, fixing the car has broken the car and this morning after having AAA tow it from my house because it wouldn’t even start, the mechanics have decided at this point, its toast… BUT AT LEAST I MADE IT TO OHIO, RIGHT?!)

So anyways I survived the burning oil fumes and finally reached a house with a bed, but was glad to begin my race preparations at 4:30AM Saturday morning after a sleepless night. Another 3 hours of driving, a stop for my typical pre-race bagel, at a DD that had NO BAGELS, and 20 minutes of going the wrong direction later I reached the amazing energy of a Spartan festival area. It’s so familiar to me, that, I sped through the process quickly and happily. Coming to so many of these races alone has given me a great push of independence, so if you’re planning on ditching me at a race, its cool, I forgive you.

I walked nearly the whole 14 miles… AGAIN, by myself… AGAIN because my foot was sore and BECAUSE I’M RUNNING TOMORROW ALSO. 6.5 hours on the course and I never once wished I could quit.

I was quickly impressed. In what we think of as flat Ohio, I do remember last year’s race to have some small hills BUT…. HAHA! These were the steepest ups and downs of any race I’ve run. Not the grueling climbs of the mountain races, but a steepness that had EVERYONE climbing with their hands, and sliding on their butts! I was totally loving it. But I wanted to spice it up a little more….

When I became aware that people had actually been motivated by seeing me pull the men’s sled with no trouble, I thought, thats going to be MY challenge today. So I challenged myself to all of the men’s obstacle options and succeeded with 6/7: The sled pull, farmers carry, log carry, sandbag carry, atlas ball, and bucket carry. I missed the Herc. Hoist but thats freaking heavy. 

Maybe, hopefully, I did inspire some other people, but what I know for sure is that I inspired myself that day.

I knew from the start that the rope climb was just before the finish line, but since the day I mastered a foot-lock it hasn’t been an obstacle to slow me down. My confidence slowed as I listened to the volunteer explain how slippery the ropes were, sure that any upper body approach wasn’t going to cut it today. Thinking that I’d climbed slippery rope before, I reached up high, tightened my grip, and pulled my feet up to wrap the rope….. or actually jumped hopelessly in the air to land exactly where i’d started because my hands came off the rope so quickly. It was like holding soap. I tried again, and again. And then I tried another rope, and another, and another. UGH. I looked over at the burpee area FILLED with people. NO 😦 thats not what I want. I stared at the ropes. And then I watched the only guy since I’d been there hit the bell. And then I tried again. I held on as tight as I could and focused on wrapping the rope fast. IT HELD. Sort of. I was slowly sliding down, but I pulled myself up, picked my feet up as quickly as I could, aware that I was still constantly sliding and I’d get tired. One girl stood next to my rope, cheering me on every inch of the way… I think I’ll always remember her. There were 2 feet of rope at the top that were only wet with rain, not slimy mud, and when I grabbed a hold, I knew I’d made it. My heart raced but I carefully climbed the last bit and hit the bell. I almost cried right there 20 feet up. I yelled out with excitement and did what I hate to watch people do and slid down the rope like it was a fire pole (it didn’t burn me because it was so slimy). I hit the ground with tears in my eyes and the biggest smile i think my mouth can make, and started to run off, but turned back to thank the girl who’d believed in me.

I don’t often feel proud, but when I took my medal I knew I’d made the most of the race, and thanked my body for making me proud.

After a freezing cold hose not-really-shower-shower, I turned to the parking lot and realized I had no clue where I parked. So I stared out into the hundreds of cars wondering……. And then the car in front of me pulled out, giving me a better view and my car was literally RIGHT there 10 feet ahead of me.

I sat my tired, but still excited butt down at Panera and ate what tasted like the best dinner EVER before arriving at my luxurious accommodation in the Walmart parking lot for the night. When I woke up and had to pee, having taken my muddy contacts out, I blindly walked towards the woods because they were closer than the store bathroom. Luckily I noticed that what I thought were nice bushes were actually tree TOPS and the bottoms were 20 feet below. Whew, close one.

I got an early start the next morning to meet a new friend (like so new I hadn’t actually met him yet but he’s quite recognizable in his clown mask) at the start line for the men’s elite heat and got there just in time to see their backs running down the trail…. oops! Well I sat in the sunshine watching the top elite men reach the rope climb, and then followed him to the finish. He ran his second lap with me; I didn’t expect he’d stay with me the whole race especially at the snail pace I was going at, but he did. When we finished, we decided to take the course sweep volunteer shift to run again, but unexpectedly got stuck with course breakdown… UNTIL 8PM. I was tired by then (and I hadn’t even hosed off so I was in wet, mud caked clothes), but I had a ton of fun: I got to lift more heavy stuff, and before taking them down, DO THE MONKEY BARS 3 MORE TIMES… AND CLIMB ON TOP OF THE MONKEY BARS! ! ! ! 

Finally we signed out from our volunteer shift, and some how Bubbles, now without his mask because the hardhat didn’t fit on top of it, not only ran like 5 crazy races that weekend in 2 totally different parts of the country, waited for me through the entire race, and stuck it out through the whole volunteer shift, but wasn’t too sick of me to have dinner after some 14 hours together. Respect.

I made it back to Pittsburgh at 2AM that night, TIRED, and spend the next day driving until dark, thinking that my car felt a bit MORE odd. It made the trip, but it won’t make any more. I was upset when I dropped the $2,000 (A WEEK AGO) because I think I already saw this happening. When I learned the news today… well I’m already over it, and… IT MADE THE TRIP. If the timing was just a little bit different, I might not have ever had one of the best weekends of my life. Pretty epic farewell to that thing.