Obstacle Course Racing: On Mud, Prep, and Gear

When I ran my first obstacle course race (OCR) during August 2011, I had no idea how to dress or what to bring. Thanks to the fabulous ladies over at Spartan Chicked, and through my own trial and error, I've come up with the following tips for getting dirty:

GEAR

Shoes

Most of the OCRs I've run are trail runs with at least some hill running. Regular road running shoes are not going to give you the traction or stability you need. In addition, most OCRs have at least one, if not more, mud pits and, more than likely, several obstacles that involve getting your shoes wet. I ran my first OCR in road shoes and I was slipping and sliding all over the place. Once those shoes got wet - well, it was like I had two weights hanging off of my feet. For this reason, I strongly encourage people to invest in good trail running shoes that drain well. As a forefoot striker, I love the Merrell Pace Glove - light, great fit, nice traction, drains like a dream, and comes out of the washing machine looking fantastic. Inov-8s also get some great reviews from the OCR crowd.

Clothes

For my first OCR, I wore a sports bra, athletic shorts, and a brown tank top. As soon as that tank top got wet, it got heavy. Once it got muddy, it was worthless and a pain to wear. By the time I crossed the fnish line, the tank was down to my knees (no joke!). Lesson learned: no cotton! I have an OCR "outfit" that I wear for all OCR consisting of dark-colored moisture-wicking pieces. My typical uniform is a black CW-X tank, black CW-X 3/4 or full-length pants, Patagonia moisture-wicking underwear, and New Balance moisture-wicking socks. For the Carolinas Beast, I also wore a black moisture-wicking, long-sleeved compression top that I bought at Target. Why do I dress this way? One, you don't have to worry about stains when you wear all dark colors. Carolina clay stains something awful, but since I'm pretty much wearing all black, you can't tell. Two, moisture-wicking fabric will not weigh you down the way cotton will after you get wet. Some people laugh when I tell them that I also wear moisture-wicking underwear, but whether you've got 3 miles or 13 miles ahead of you, you'll be glad that your panties won't be carrying muddy water the whole way! Third, I wear pants instead of shorts because having something to cover your knees during barbed wire crawls can be an absolute godsend. In addition, longer pants protect your inner legs from splinters when going over or through wooden obstacles and protect against rope burns on obstacles like the Tyrolean traverse.

Gloves

There is some controversy in the OCR world about wearing gloves. Some people feel like they are a pain and get in the way. Personally, I like wearing fingerless gloves, like lifting gloves, in order to protect your palms and lower part of your fingers. I will say that I took them off in order to do the monkey bars at the Carolinas Beast so I could grip the bars the better, but all-in-all, I was happy to be wearing them for most of the race. Wearing gloves is definitely a personal choice, but if you do choose to wear them, choose lightweight gloves that will drain water easily.


POST RACE GEAR

So, you've gotten down and dirty, and now it's time to clean up. What do you do? I always pack a bag of essentials so that I can get as clean (as possible) after the race and prior to the ride home. What's in my bag?

• A change of dark-colored clothes (including dark underwear and socks) in a plastic bag. When you're muddy, you'll be glad that your clean clothes are protected by a black bag. And when you've cleaned off at the race, you'll still be dirty, so make sure you wear something that either won't stain or you don't mind if it gets stained.
• 2-3 kitchen sized garbage bags for your dirty items
• Extra shoes or sandals
• Extra pairs of contact lenses and a small bottle of saline solution in a Ziploc bag. I wear contacts and have managed to get mud or dirt in my eyes at several OCRs. An extra pair of contacts was the difference between utter misery and being able to enjoy post-race festivities in comfort.
• Sunscreen. Once that protective layer of mud is gone, you will need some protection from the sun.
• 2 towels. It goes without saying that these should be towels you don't mind staining. I bring two towels because water pressure at the hose down stations vary, and you may need to towel-off a bunch of mud with one towel and then clean off again with a second towel in order to get somewhat clean. Also, it's nice to have an extra towel to stand on if the ground is very muddy in the changing area.
• Ibuprofen. Because you never know!
• Sweatshirt. As with water pressure, water temperature in the hose down area can vary. Combine a cold wash down with a decent wind (like at the Virginia Spartan Super), and you will be grateful to have a warm sweatshirt to slip on.

EXTRA TIPS

• Use a dark towel to dry off with after your first real shower, or you will run the risk of staining your towel
• Wear dark panties or a pantiliner after the OCR. There's no nice way to put it, so I'll put it like this: Mud goes EVERYWHERE ladies. It does not discriminate. And it eventually comes out. Enough said.
• Body Glide is your friend. I coat the bottom of my feet with it in order to avoid developing blisters or hot spots from running with wet and muddy socks.

I hope to have a recap of the 2012 Carolinas Beast up soon!

When There Are No Words

I know I haven't written in a while - 4 weeks to be exact. It's because while I had things I wanted to say, there was one post that needed to be written before I could say anything else, and I wasn't ready to write that post just yet.

You see, as I was finishing up my last post, my 14-year-old dog, Wicket, started aimlessly wandering around the downstairs, seeming confused. The husband and I noticed that his breathing seemed off. Husband offered Wicket a dog treat and for the first time ever, Wicket refused it. We petted Wicket and he walked into his crate and laid down.

He never got back up again.

The next morning, as I was getting dressed, my husband told me that Wicket had passed away in his sleep. And even though I knew it was coming, it still hurt so much.

There were no words. Just tears. Lots of tears.

But a month after losing my sweet furbaby, there are now words. And they need to be written before I can write others.

I adopted Wicket from the shelter when he was 8 weeks old. It was January 15, 1997. I didn't want to pay the pet deposit for my apartment, so my friend Josh, who lived in a house, technically adopted the puppy for me. I had gone to the shelter earlier that day and saw a cage full of puppies, along with their mother. I actually had picked out a different puppy - the runt of the litter - figuring he might be the easiest to care for. When Josh returned to shelter for the adoption, the runt was gone. Josh called me up and asked me what he should do. I told him to use his discretion (Josh wanted to be a vet at that time) and pick out the best pup that was there. As he later told me, he returned to the cage and one black and white spotted puppy came flying up to the door, trying to lick him maniacally.

That puppy was Wicket.

Up until then, I had never had a pet - I had never had to take care of anything other than myself. It was a learning experience. But I took care of Wicket as much as he took care of me. Through thick and thin, Wicket was always there for me, always  ready to curl up to me or lick the tears off of my face. I called him, amongst other things, my "baby-dog." He was my furbaby. And I was his mom.

In time, real children came along, and poor Wicket found that he was no longer my priority. He still enjoyed laying at my feet or playing ball in the backyard, and he was always up for a good rawhide. As my kids grew, he loved hanging out underneath the dinner table and I found I never had to worry about cleaning up the floor!

But time kept moving forward, and my baby-dog grew older. The dog who used to love chasing tennis balls for hours started having trouble running. He stopped caring about squeaky toys. He stopped being as excited about eating. His black muzzle and spots started becoming more and more white. He slowed down.

And then, one night, he stopped.

It's been almost one month since I hugged his lifeless body and kissed his head, saying goodbye. And even now, one month later, there are tears rolling down my face as I write this post. The pain is not as sharp, not as acute, but it is still there. The loss still hurts.

He was my sweet boy, my Wicket-Ewok, my insane ball dog. He was the dog who attacked a watermelon and barked at a jalapeno pepper. He was the dog who let me hold him tight after I lost my first pregnancy. He was the dog who protected me when we were confronted by an off-leash dog on a trail.

He was my dog. And now he is gone.

Gone, but not forgotten.

I love you Wicket. Thank you for sharing your life with me. I will never forget you.

Rest in peace.