This is the recap I've kind of been dreading writing. I love OCRs. I love Spartans. But I can't, for the life of me, write that I enjoyed the 2013 Carolinas Sprint. It was hard, it was a struggle, and I'm proud that I finished, but, to be frank, I feel like a dumbass for having done it.
Let me explain.
This year has been unseasonably cold. Historically, the high should be around 63 degrees on March 23 in Charlotte. On the day I ran the Sprint, the high was 53 degrees and the low was 40. When I took off running at 10 am on the 23rd, under cloudy skies, it was not even 47 degrees out. And even though I was dressed for the weather (CW-X insulator pants, Reebok Cold Weather long-sleeve top over my CW-X top, Under Armour Beanie, heat patches on my back), I felt the cold. Immensely. I am the person who is always cold. July in Charlotte and I was 9 months pregnant - I still never felt extremely hot. As I took off running, I worried about the cold. I worried about being wet and cold. I knew that I didn't have the resistance that other people do to the cold. But, I let those fears fall away and concentrated on the course, telling myself that my worries about the cold were unfounded.
Unfortunately, they weren't.
The Sprint was again at the US National Whitewater Center. Thankfully, there was no full-out swim at the end of the race, like in 2012. As Shana and I ran up to the starting area (we had to run to make sure we would make our starting wave), I concentrated on staying warm and was telling myself that once I started running, I would be fine.
Shana and I stayed to the back of the wave as we took off running. All of the recent rain made the trails quite slippery and muddy, but I was doing fine and slowly got ahead of Shana. My worries about the cold led me to run at my own pace, which was somewhat faster than her. We wouldn't see each other again until Tough Mudder two weeks later.
The first obstacle was over-under walls. Accomplished with no help needed. Next up was the first mud pit. Deep, sticky mud. I was doing well until some guy fell into me. Honestly, I was a little ticked about being someone's landing spot, but he apologized and we moved on. The mud pit ended segued into the river walk. Being 5'2", it was more like a river dog paddle. Towards the end of the walk, there was a hold up as people had trouble getting up the bank and back onto the trail. I was feeling the cold at this point, and rude or not, I went around the line of people waiting to get out and made my own way up the bank - I needed to start moving again. Others followed my lead, though, making me feel better about my choice.
Next obstacle was the 8-foot wall. I got over by myself with no problem, using the steps/slats for the women. This led immediately into the "tractor pull" - pulling a concrete block by a chain up and down a hill. I struggled here, but completed. It was cold and my muscles were working very hard. More river walking/paddling followed. Running was becoming harder, as my muscles were so frozen, I was feeling every step vibrate up my legs and body.
Next up: mud hills and mud ponds. I was coated in slippery mud and after finishing this obstacle, I took several falls onto my right thigh and side while running. Good times.
Then came the turn for the worst. After a bit more running came the muddy barbed wire crawl. As usual, I proceeded to roll through the obstacles, quickly getting through it. Unfortunately, I got caked, front and back, in cold, cold mud. As I got up from the obstacle, I joked with the volunteer that I couldn't feel anything from the neck down. I started running again, but found I couldn't warm up like before. The next obstacle was the monkey bars, and I barely attempted them - the hands were starting to not respond to me. I did my ugly burpees and moved on - hardly anyone was completing the monkey bars on that day. I completed the Hercules Hoist successfully and had no problem with running through the tunnel (being short is an advantage at times). Cargo net was harder than usual because my muscles were so cold and stiff. More running, and then the sandbag carry.
It was at the sandbag carry that I began to realize I was in trouble. I was far more winded by the carry than I should have been, and it began to dawn on me that I was hyperventilating - a sign of hypothermia setting in. By the time I made it to the traverse wall, my hands were barely responding to my attempts to move them - I couldn't even get on the wall because I could no longer grip. I accomplished the tractor tire flip by teaming up with another female (teams had to do double the number of flips). It's hard to say in retrospect, but I think at this point, my mind went a little bit. I was on the verge of tears as I got to the spear throw and realized I physically couldn't stop shaking long enough to try it. The volunteer at the spear throw laughed at my panic- I have to hope that he didn't understand what was going on. But at that point, his laughing made me think that the only way I was going to get the help I knew I needed was by finishing the race. I ran on to the rope climb and realized that I could never complete it in my condition and that I couldn't waste precious minutes in attempting to complete it. I did, however, complete my 30 burpees (ugly as all get out and accompanied by my panicky breathing). I ran on and quickly made it up the slippery wall, jumped over the fire, and ran through the gladiators to the finish line.
As I crossed the finish line, I couldn't stop shaking. The volunteer who was about to hand me my medal told me I was blue. I told her I needed help. She immediately took me to a staff member who took me to the medic tent. The medics were amazing - they tried to get me dried off and put me in front of a heat blower, turning me every few minutes in an attempt to get me warm. They talked me through the hyperventilation. They wanted to take me to a different tent to get under heat blankets, but when they said they would have to call my emergency contact, I chattered, "No. I think I'll be ok." If they had to call the husband out there to help me out, I knew it would be game over for any future OCRs. After at least 30 minutes, they released me to the heated changing tent under the care of my friend, Karen, who happened to walk into the medic tent when I was there. My muscles ached from the shivering and spasms, and I was grateful that Karen went and got my things for me from the gear check. I don't know how long I stood in the heated changing tent before I finally stopped shivering. But, eventually, the shivering stopped and I was able to finish getting dressed and came out of the tent.
So, I completed. But as I said earlier, I feel like a dumbass for doing it. I was lucky I didn't get into more trouble out there than I did. Thankfully, it was just mild hypothermia and nothing more serious. But I learned a lesson - try all you might, but you can't beat your body's limits. I'm signed up for the Carolinas Beast, but if the weather and temps are anything like the Sprint, I will not be running the Beast.
Some things are just not worth it.
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