Carolinas Superhero Scramble

On June 29th, I participated in the first Carolinas Superhero Scramble. It was at Carolinas Adventure World in Winnsboro, SC, which was the same location as the Carolinas Spartan Beast. But, honestly, there was little comparison between the two races. At the Spartan Beast, there was a nice combination of running and obstacles. The terrain was challenging but doable for most people. The Superhero Scramble, on the other hand...it was a trail run with a couple of obstacles thrown in. Not being a runner, I found that disappointing, to say the least.

So, let's break it down, shall we?

Length: Ended up being somewhere around 10-10.5 miles. The race was advertised as an 8+ miler, so that was about right. There were three water stations and GU Chomps were provided. I wish I had stuck with my Shot Blox rather than switching to the Gu - the last couple of miles were strictly walking as my calves and I hate to strike a truce that they would continue to work as long as I didn't attempt to run. I was glad I heeded the advice in the race director's notes to bring my own hydration and nutrition. There were a lot of hungry and dehydrated people towards the end of the race - and lots of DNFs.

Terrain: Brutal. Really brutal. There was one "hill" everybody was talking about - it was so steep you had to take it on your hands and knees/feet. The  route was hill after hill after hill.

Afterparty: The DJ apparently ran out of money for iTunes, because the music looped after 45 minutes. The free beer (which I was going to actually get this time) was canned, not on draft. I've become way too much of a beer snob thanks to my husband). One nice touch was that there was large open-air tent/pavillion to chill out under - wonderful to get out of the sun.

Registration/Parking/Set-up: Very good

Obstacles: My biggest complaint - there were not enough. We were promised 25+ obstacles, and I doubt there were more than 12 (unless one added in all the hills). The obstacles that were in place were fun, I will say. I was extremely proud of the fact that I successfully completed every single obstacle. The first obstacle was the dreaded rope climb - they had several ropes with knots and several without knots. There was a long line for the knotted ropes (and plenty of people opting to skip the attempt and go straight for the burpees and spins - yes, penalty was 20 burpees and 10 forehead-on-a-baseball-bat spins). I prefer unknotted rope for climbs, so I went ahead and grabbed onto one of the regular lengths and rope and started climbing. And climbed. And climbed. And when I reached 3/4 of the way up, people started cheering for me. And when I reached the top - Epic. At least in my head. I was dubbed Super Rope Girl by several other racers, which made me feel pretty good. The other two obstacles I was really proud of finishing were RingWorm and the Steep Slippery Wall. RingWorm was a similar to monkey bars, but instead of bars, you had to swing from ring to ring.

It was a great feeling to beat that obstacle. Especially when the big muscley guys were dropping halfway through...

Giant Slide at the End

Finish Line

While I was proud of my performance, I can't say the race was very fun. Like I said, there simply were not enough obstacles. I was also concerned by the lack of volunteers - especially safety/medical volunteers - on the course. There were good mile+ stretches without readily available help. I passed a number of people who needed aid, and they were waiting while someone in their group ran to find someone. It was with little surprise that my group of racers agreed that we were not likely to do another Superhero Scramble.

Oh well. Back to training for the my next OCR: Spartan Super in Virginia. I while need to start doing more hill training in preparation - it' a Wintergreen Ski Resort. 

My calves are considering taking out a restraining order against me.

Warrior Dash 2013- North Carolina

Last Saturday,  I ran Warrior Dash 2013 in North Carolina. Now, Warrior Dash has always held a special place in my heart - it was the first OCR I ever did and the one that got me addicted. I was looking forward to running my 3rd WD - especially since I was pretty much guaranteed a warm weather race (which I have sorely missed thus far this season). While the weather held out, the race itself was disappointing.

Disappointment started as soon as I arrived at Rural Hill, where the race was being held. I was running alone - my running partner had to go to her son's high school graduation (excuses, excuses), but I was ok with that. As usual, something came up for me, physically, to mess up my ability to prepare. This time it was nausea/stomach upset that had been going on 1.5 weeks - I had lost 3-4 pounds by the time WD rolled around, I was so miserable. So that Saturday, I got up, dry heaved a bit, choked down half a protein bar, and set off for my 9 am wave. I'm glad I was in an early wave - the registration was, to put it mildly, a complete cluster. I'm not sure if it was disorganzed, if the volunteers did not know what they were doing, or if there simply weren't enough volunteers to handle registration. At any rate, there was a lot of grumbling in the long and slow line. I barely managed to make it into my wave.

I was not pleased.

The race itself was not as challenging as in the past. Obstacles seemed simpler than previously. I found myself getting bored here and there. In spite of not feeling well (and not hydrating well enough), I was making excellent time going into the final obstacle - the mud pit.

Now, mind you, I have run over 15 OCRs since I started getting muddy. I've gone through watery mud puddles, uphill through 100-yd long barbed wire crawls, and through absolutely putrid sludge. None of those pits held a candle to the nastiness that was this mud pit. It was more like a combination of molasses and quicksand. It was the stickiest, heaviest mud I have ever been in. And, like most everyone else in the pit, I had a difficult time not getting stuck.

And, then, of course, I did get stuck. For real. Both legs - completely unable to move. After 10 minutes I struggling, I managed to free my right leg. However, my left leg was deep in the mud. Every time I tried to move it, I could feel my shoe getting pulled off. I love my Inov-8s - no way was I losing one of them in that mud pit! So, I continued to work and struggle to free myself, even as I had visions of needing a crane to pull me out. Luckily, at some point, a wonderful man had pity on me and helped me to free my left leg. With waning energy, I managed to make it to the berm at the edge of the mud pit. At that point, I looked up at a guy standing there, and pitifully asked him to pull me out. He did so, and I stood up on the other side, I was amazed at how much mud was clinging to me. I felt 20 lbs heavier. I finally crossed the finish line, thoroughly beaten for all the wrong reasons.

I don't know how long I was stuck in the Molasses Swamp, but I do know that many people opted not to try it all, skewing finish times. As I headed to the wash down, I looked down and realized that I was caked in mud. Usually, at washdown, I can count on at least one skeevy guy offering to help me wash my back off. No one offered this time. Possibly because no one could tell that I was a girl.

I changed in the Port-a-Potty (no changing tents - yay) and grabbed my beer token. I'm not one to drink alone, so I scanned the crowds, spotted a guy wearing a giant Afro wig, walked up to him, and gave him my token. He was thankful and surprised, but I just smiled and headed back out to my car.

I was done. In more ways than one. While Warrior Dash will always hold a place in my heart, I doubt I will do another one.

Carolinas Spartan Sprint 2013

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.

Girls Gone Muddy

"This is a man's world," James Brown once sang.

And to read this story in the New York Times, you'd have to think the title of the song, "It's a Man's, Man's, Man's World" would be a pretty apt description for the OCR scene.

And you'd be wrong.

Sure, lots of OCR advertising material focuses on attracting the beer-chugging, fist-pumping, chest-thumping, weekend-warrior-kind-of-guy, but OCRs are not the sole province of the testosterone set. As I, and my 8466 sisters who are a part of the Spartan Chicked movement, can attest to, women are just as good at getting as dirty.

Writer Joshua David Stein, in his NY Times piece, describes the Tough Mudder as "an extreme obstacle course that is becoming the macho sport of choice for Type A men (and some women) who find marathons too easy and triathlons meh." He goes on to chronicle pull-up challenges, keg-chucking, and other feats of intense, well, male-ness. He focuses on the "band of brothers" camaraderie and spirit.

And he totally misses that lots of women run OCRs too.

Are there tons of guys, like the ones Stein describes, running OCRs? Sure. But there are tons of others, too, from all walks of life. Mixed in with the former athletes and hardcore fitness fanatics, there are plenty of people who are out there on the course, just trying to prove that they can overcome one more challenge, conquer one more obstacle. There are plenty of women running these races - from stay-at-home-mothers in Ohio, to English teachers in New Hampshire, to graduate students in New Mexico. To stereotype obstacle course races as a man's world is to discount the growing number of women who are getting down and dirty in the mud every weekend.

I, myself, am a self-described OCR addict. As my husband so often complains, I plan my year (and my vacations) around OCRs. I ask for Dri-Fit gear and trail running shoes for Christmas. I head to the gym, not so I can look better in a bikini, but so that I can finally complete a rope climb during a race. 

And I'm not alone. The number of female obstacle course racers increases every year. We are a force to be reckoned with. And while we may be competing for different and very personal reasons, we all get at least a small sense of satisfaction when we pass a guy on the course - also known as "chicking."

And why not, when as Stein describes in his article, there are men who put surgical tape on their chests, while saying, “This is going to be 9/11 on my nipples.”

Really? Try nursing a baby with tongue tie and thrush. Dude needs to quit whining and take a lesson from the chicks and Spartan the F up...

OCR History 101

So, you find yourself interested in learning more about OCRs and training for one, but you're not quite sure how to go about doing so? Well, you're in luck! Follow this link to download the Spartan E-Book that chronicles the Spartan Race and has training tips to help you out.

Want to register for a Spartan Race and get a 15% discount? Follow this link  and use the code "extole15" for 15% off! It's that easy!

Joining the Spartan Street Team

I hate selling things.

When I was a Girl Scout, I pretty much flat refused to go door-to-door selling things. I had no problem manning the booths outside of stores and stacking boxes while others tried to get people to buy, but anything that required me to directly approach others for the purpose of selling - not gonna happen. When Older Boy started kindergarten this year, the school gave us the option of participating in fundraisers or writing a check.

I wrote the check.

So last Thursday, when Travis from Spartan Race put out a call for people to join the Street Team and help market the Spartan Race at the Thunder Road Expo in Charlotte, I was understandably hesitant. Give up 4 hours on my day off to try and sell a bunch of strangers on the Spartan Race? As much I love the Spartan Race, memories of school fundraisers and Girl Scout cookie sales assaulted me. And yet, for some reason, with much trepidation, I signed up for a 4-hour stint at the Expo. That Friday morning, I almost talked myself out of showing up, but I spartaned up, got in my car, and drove into Charlotte.

And had the best time.

Sure, initially when I showed up at the booth, I felt uncomfortable and a little out of place. Intimidated even. The first half-hour, I probably talked to maybe 4 people who walked by the booth. But after a while, I really got into it. There I was, surrounded by marathoners and half-marathoners, and yet I - the girl picked close to last in gym class - was the one who had accomplished something most of them had not: a Spartan Race. A Spartan Trifecta.

And I wanted to share my love of OCRs with all of them.

After a while, it got easy. I started chatting guys and gals up right and left. The most fun was shooting down the excuses I heard from people as to why they couldn't do a Spartan. As someone who did not start running until July 2011 and then did her first Spartan in March 2012, I found that I had a story to tell: I did this and you can do this too. I was upfront with people: I'm not the fastest, I'm not the strongest, but I finished all the same. Four hours flew by quickly, and before I knew it, my shift was up and it was time for me to leave to get Older Boy from school.

As I was leaving, I mentioned to Travis that manning the booth and selling the Spartan Race ended up being easier and a lot more fun than I expected. He responded that selling from the heart is the easiest and best way to market.

And he's right. In a lot of ways, I never believed that the school fundraising or selling cookies really mattered - the school or scout troop received so little in return for each unit sold. But you can't get the benefit of an OCR - the addiction, the desire to get into shape, the desire to push yourself - unless something gets you to sign up first. What I was doing really mattered - I really could have gotten someone to sign up for their first OCR that day.

And, that, my friends, is what made it so fun and easy.

Earning a free Spartan race didn't hurt either ;).

Arooo!

Hero Rush Carolinas 2012 Recap

Obstacle course racing is still a new sport, and yet, in some ways, it lacks imagination. Once you've jumped a bale of hay, well, you've jumped a bale of hay. So, it's nice when someone puts a new spin on some of the staples of OCRs. Thus, I was excited to participate in the Hero Rush, a firefighter-themed OCR, even if it was the first year it was being held. Coming off of the Carolinas Beast, I had some hesitation about whether I would be able to actually do it, as running an OCR with a open wound on your toe is probably not recommended (I had the toenail on my right big toe surgically removed the Tuesday between Carolinas Beast and Hero Rush). And truth be told, I probably shouldn't have run Hero Rush, but well, I can be extremely stubborn at times and darn it, I wanted to do Hero Rush. So, with 2 ibuprofen, numbing cream, and numbing spray on-board, I lined up to the start line of Hero Rush on Oct 20, 2012 and took off running.

Don't tell my podiatrist.

Hero Rush was definitely unique. The Charlotte race was held at the Z-Max dragway near Lowe's Motor Speedway. Parking was plentiful and there were actual bathroom facilities, which was a nice touch. On the bad side, though, this meant that a good bit of the run was on concrete, which is not a lot of fun when wearing trail-running shoes. Waves started every half-hour, but each wave was then broken down into mini-waves which started every 15 minutes. The bad thing about this was that the DJ decided that prior to every wave starting, he needed to play "Kickstart My Heart" by Motley Crue. Unless you are a serious metalhead, there is only so much Crue one can take. By the time my friend Shana and I headed back to my car, I was ready to kick something, and it wasn't the DJ's heart.

Shana and I were signed up for the 10:30 wave and were close enough to the front to be in the 10:30 wave rather than the 10:45 wave. The DJ made some barely understandable announcements, "Kickstart My Heart" blared over the speakers, and we were off, running up wooden stairs on a platform and then sliding down firepoles, aka Dispatch Descent. There were about 4 or 5 sets of stairs to the platform and an equal number of firepoles. The organizers were smart and had the timing mat set after participants ran a short distance away from the firepoles, so the backup at the start did not affect timing. I started running down the dragway and was glad to realize that my toe was pretty numb. Unfortunately, I was still recovering from the Beast, so my energy was, again, not where it needed to be. No matter, I chugged along, marvelling that I was actually at the front of the pack.

I'm never near the front of the pack.

After running the length of the dragway, I came to Forcible Fury - a series of doorways with springs on the doors to make it hard to open them. I took a doorknob to the hip which hurt massively in the moment, but was easily run off.  The dragway ended in a patch of rocks and the next obstacle, Cargo Climb was set in this area. Up and over the cargo nets and finally onto the off-road portion, down the edge of dragway. The course then turned back and ran parallel to the dragway, but on the grass side and uphill to the next obstacle, Stretching the Line. Fire hoses were tied onto tires and we had to drag or carry them around a course. I opted to carry mine and then took off running into the wooded area behind the Z-max. I slowed down a little when I came to River Rescue - running through a pebbly creek. I did not want to run the risk of injuring my toe any further. Up and out of the creek bed and through some more trails. I realized I was running behind a cute couple and I used them to pace myself. Next up was Staying Alive: CPR Stop, in which organizers had strewn CPR dummies across the course and volunteers watched us do 30 chest compressions. The volunteers at that obstacle were three boys, one elementary school kid and two teenagers. They seemed somewhat impressed when I ran past the water stop, dropped to the ground, pounded out 30 compressions, and got up and kept going. Just a Mud Pit, which disappointingly, was just a mud pit. Or mud patch. The next obstacle was Crowd Control, which was your typical run-through-tires-hanging-from-ropes obstacle. After this was Dummy Drag, a unique obstacle in which participants had to partner up with another racer to carry a dummy (two tires tied together) on a stretcher over and under obstacles.

Running to the next obstacle, I saw people waiting down below it. It was Hoarder's Hell, in which you had to climb a ladder to a "window" of a makeshift second story building, walk through a smoke filled "room" and then go down a cargo net to the ground. There were only two ladders and rooms, and as I learned when I finally got into the room, there were a lot of scared people on the cargo net holding up the line. Cool idea for an obstacle, but poor execution. I got a little impatient when I finally got to the cargo net and went out and around two people on the net already.

The next obstacle was Basement Entrapped. You either climber a ladder or a rope in order to get to a two-story platform, and  the walked a rope down to the ground. The line for the ladder was a good 5 minute backup, but there was hardly anyone trying to get up the rope (which was actually a deflated firehose). I thought I would take the chance on the rope and was ecstatic when I climbed it up to the second story. Woo hoo! First time accomplishing a rope climb at a race! I ended up passing the cute pace couple at that obstacle, since they opted for the stairs. I was flying high still when I came to the next obstacle, Towering Inferno. Large tubes were laid on their ends and wooden slats were placed inside as sort of a makeshift ladder to the the second story; water flowed down the pipe, making me glad I had brought a pair of swim goggles along. I climbed up the tube and emerged on the second story platform. In order to get down, you had to slide down a gigantic waterslide, which I happily did. At this point, the course was back onto concrete and off of the trail. The next obstacle took place on the infield of a dirt track race course at Lowe's Motor Speedway, a variation on the dummy drag called Stretcher Evac. I teamed up with a girl who had been running a little ahead of me; unfortunately for me, she was not quite so confident in her evac-ing skills, leading to the metal stretcher falling on my hand. However, we finished and took off running again, out of the dirt track and over three fire piles for Fire Walker. The next obstacle was Foam Adventure, in which a small tank was filled with foam (like you would find at a foam party). I accidentally inhaled through my mouth while running through and had the worst taste in my mouth as a result. From there, the course went down under the bleachers of the Z-max and into the dark. There, I was greeted with a crowd of people waiting to get through the next obstacle: Entanglement. Four tubes were laid on end next to each other and cords were strung through them so that you had to inch through them, akin to Catherine Zeta-Jones in Entrapment. The backup at this obstacle easily killed my time by 5 minutes, and as I was waiting, I realized that my right thumb was wet and throbbing. In the dim light, I realized I had cut myself deeply on the metal stretcher and I was bleeding. I pushed the pain out of my mind and took full advantage of my small stature to quickly get through the tubes. Up the stairs and past another water stop, I came to Bystander Blast, in which participants had to wade through a pool of water while being shot with water sprays controlled by people on the sidelines. On to Fire on 16!, a devilish obstacle that involved hauling heavy fire hoses up and down the bleachers at the Z-max. Up the stairs was awful, but the downhill gave me a chance to recover. Two reps of that and it was off to the HazMat Zone. It's hard to explain this one. Basically, a pool was filled with day-glo water and jelly-like bits of material, making the pool more solid than fluid. We had to wade to the middle, dive under a floating barrel, and then come out. I was grateful for my goggles, once again. Climbing out of the tank, it was time to get back on the dragway and run towards the finish. But between the finish line and HazMat was Mazed and Confused, in which you had to crawl on your hands and knees through a dark maze. It wasn't bad, but I was slipping a little on the dragway surface and I was ready to be done. Getting up, I got ready and sprinted across the finish line. And headed to the First Aid station to see about my thumb.

The "5k" turned out to be 5 miles. When I found that out, my reaction was: "Huh." I guess 3 Spartans has really screwed with my sense of distance. I ended up finishing far better than I expected: 1:14:07.6, 19th in Age Group, 44th for Gender, and 165 Overall. Would I do it again? Probably not. While the obstacles were unique, I hated having to run on the asphalt and concrete in my trail shoes. Another thing that was a huge turnoff: the lack of camaraderie amongst racers. Attempts to encourage other racers were generally met with silence and for once, I really felt like I was running alone. Not sure if this was due to the kind of racers/runners the race attracted or what, but it definitely did not feel as fun as it could have been. However, I will say that it got a couple of acquaintances interested in OCRs, so that was a positive, and it would probably have been better if you were running with a group that stayed together.

So, Hero Rush. Good entry level OCR that would probably be fun to run with a group. Just make sure no one drops a stretcher on your thumb...

Calendar Girl

My race season is over for 2012 - a little prematurely, thanks to Filthy Fun Mud Run having to cancel due to Hurricane Sandy - and it is time to start thinking about 2013. This year, I did 8 OCRs, 1 sprint triathlon, and a 10k. While I enjoyed the experience of the triathlon, I've decided to focus my attention next year strictly on OCRs, so it's time to start deciding what will, and what won't, be on my race calendar for next year.

The first race on tap for me will be The Jungle Cup in early March at Carolinas Adventure World, where the Carolinas Beast was held. At the end of March will be the Carolinas Spartan Sprint in Charlotte. I'm still on the fence about doing the postponed Filthy Fun Mud Run, which would be the second week of April, but am definitely on-board for doing the USMC Challenge in Columbia, South Carolina on April 27. Rugged Maniac in Richmond and Warrior Dash Carolinas are on tap for May and June, respectively, and I am signed up for the Mid-Atlantic Spartan Sprint in August. So that is 6 definites and one maybe, and my race schedule is definitely busy in the spring, but empty in the fall.

Even though Hero Rush will be returning to Charlotte in October, I am not sure that I will be doing it again. As I will write about in my forthcoming write-up, the long lines at obstacles and the lack of camaraderie between racers really make me iffy about doing it again. Another one I am iffy about is the Carolinas Spartan Beast. Next year, it will be in November, and the thought of going 14 miles in the cold sounds beyond miserable to me, as I really hate the cold. I had been tentatively thinking about doing a Tough Mudder next year, but the dates, prices, and team members are not falling into line. I am crossing my fingers that Superhero Scramble will be coming to North Carolina in the fall.

So, as of this writing, my 2013 race schedule will finish up in August. Of course, it's only November, so things are definitely subject to change! If anyone knows of a good race within driving distance of Charlotte, let me know!

Carolinas Spartan Beast 2012 Recap

The Carolinas Beast was held Oct 13 at Carolina Adventure World in South Carolina, about an hour south of the Charlotte metro-area. I had worried that it was going to be too cold, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the temperature was in the just-right zone. All said and done, it was around 14 grueling miles and there were definite times that I wondered whether I would finish, considering the furthest I had ever traveled on my own legs (in one go) was the 10.5 miles of the Mid-Atlantic Super. But finish it, I did. And I could not have done it without the support and tenacity of one thing in particular:

The toenail on my right big toe.

I would like to take a second to give a warm "Thank You" to this particular body part for hanging on through the several creek runs, through all of the ups and downs of the trail, for mile after mile. Yes, it was definitely not fun running with a toenail that was coming off, nanometer by nanometer, but as I triumphantly found out in the changing tent, the toenail hung on until the very end. Maybe a little too long, even, as the Tuesday after the Beast, I had to go to the podiatrist to get the toenail removed. But let's not ruin the congratulatory moment, shall we?

As with the Spartan Super, this was a race I was just looking to finish. For the 6 weeks prior to the Beast, I had a hacking cough that would not go away. One week before the Beast, I was lying in bed with a fever and body aches. For me, it was all about crossing that finish line and getting that beautiful green medal.

Our wave took off under gorgeous sunny skies. Karen and I split off from Shana, Isabel, and Ali early on, after coming to the first obstacle - chest-high water-filled ditches. I had some difficulty getting out of the last ditch (the travails of being short) and was grateful for the anonymous person who pushed me up. I also felt terrible for the young guy who tried to jump across that ditch and ended up landing on his crotch at the edge of it. Ouch.

Next came the barricades. It was at this point that I realized just how hard I had been hit by being sick the week before. My energy simply was not where it needed to be. Regardless, I went over the barricades and kept going. Following the barricades were the monkey bars. Karen attempted first and fell off. At first, I was going to try wth my gloves on (I bought snazzy new weightlifting gloves for the Beast), but opted to take them off and stuff them in my hydration backpack. I went up to the bars, climbed the steps, and -

Nailed it. Across those bad boys and to the other side. "Holy s^&!" I screamed to Karen. "I made it across!"

Still flying high off of conquering the monkey bars, we crossed over a ditch on a log and then came to the first of two stump hops. My balance was a little off but I made it across. More running, and the next obstacle was the Hercules Hoist. Once again, my creeping exhaustion made itself known, as I had to use every bit of my body weight to get the rope down. Next was a creek run. While the cold water felt GREAT on my calves, the pebbles and sand were wreaking havoc in my shoes. I had to stop a couple of times afterwards to clean out my socks and shoes. The great thing about Spartan Racers? Every time I stopped, someone (more often than not, more than one) would ask me if I was ok and whether I needed anything. Love Spartan Racers.

Next obstacles: Atlas Carry 1, Tire Flip, and Atlas Carry 2. Quickly followed by Stump Hop 2. Unfortunately for most of us, the stumps on the second go around were much further apart than during the first one. Most people ended up doing burpees. The first 30 down. *sigh* (Not trying to ruin the ending, but there were more burpees in my future).

After that, we came to the Cargo Net Climb and having to go over logs that were 5 to 6 feet off of the ground. I gladly accepted help on the log crossings. Short people got tiny legs, but we are easy to throw over obstacles!

Next up were a set of ditches and mud hills. By this time, I was getting tired. I found that I had to eat a Cliff Shot Block every 20 minutes or so in order to keep my energy up and my electrolyte balance at the right level. So when we got to the Tractor Pull and were given the option between the women's weight and the heavier weight, you had better believe I went for the women's weight. Who was I trying to impress, right? I think that sentiment was echoed at the next two obstacles: Rope Climb and Traverse Wall, which were around Mile 7. Sixty more burpees for me. Yay. Not. 

More running. At this point, Karen and I split up. Being a forefoot/midfoot runner, the best way for me to deal with potential cramps is to slow down and give my calves a break, while Karen would cramp up more by slowing down and cooling down. I told Karen to go on without me, knowing that I would not catch up to her until finish line. Eh, them's the breaks.

Next came the 6-ft walls, followed by a bridge over a roadway. After the bridge was one of the steeper uphill climbs. As I was going up it, I saw a guy standing off to the side in pain. I stopped and offered him a Shot Block, which he took with some hesitation. Later on, after I had finished the race, he found me on the sidelines and thanked me for the Shot Block, saying it helped him finish. Reason #956 I will always carry extra fuel with me on an OCR - you never know who might need it more than you do.

After cresting the hill, I came upon the first barbed wire crawl. I dropped my hydration pack and went through it. It definitely seemed easier to do that (and then pick it up) rather than trying to go through with it on my back. I saw many people opting to leave their hydration packs and continue on the course, as it looped back to this point and back over the bridge to the finish. Initially, I was going to leave my pack too, but then I thought to ask someone how far the loop was. When I heard 5 miles, I went back and picked up my pack. That decision turned out to be one of the best ones I made, as I could not have finished without my stash of Shot Blocks.

Next up were the 7-foot walls. I was definitely starting to cramp in my calves, so I decided to alternate between my legs as my leading leg over the walls. Another good decision, as it kept me from having a major cramp. Nothing, however, was going to keep me for doing burpees at Rope Climb #2. *sigh* Somewhere along the way, all of the water I had been drinking started to catch up with. Good for hydration, bad for the bladder. And so, upon the advice of a volunteer, I straggled out into the woods a decent distance, dropped trou, and proceeded to water the leaves in the most lady-like manner I possibly could (while covered in mud, of course). I had never done that before (peeing out in nature), so I considered it an unmarked obstacle for myself.

After making to the last aid station, I came upon the Tyrolean Traverse. Strung across a pond were several ropes. Our job was to cross the pond only using the rope and ring a bell hanging from the rope. I watched as the female in front attempted to get on the rope several times before letting go and crossing the shore to do burpees. I was determined not to do burpees. I grabbed onto the rope and pulled my legs up, resting the inside of my knees on the rope. While some other racers used their ankles as a hang point, I chose the knees because I was wearing long tights and I figure I would get more protection. I started crossing, hanging there, hand over hand, knee over knee. That dang bell was still far off. Determined not to quit, I closed my eyes, let my head hang back, and continued to cross by feel. The next time I opened my eyes, that bell was closer and I knew I would finish. I could hear people on the side - complete strangers - cheering me on, and when I hit that bell, it felt amazing. No burpees on the side of that pond!

Coming off of that triumph, I tackled the sandbag carry, up and down hill. As I have said before, motionless sandbags are easy for a mom of a 3-year-old and 5-year-old. Was I the fastest? No. But I got up and down with no problem and headed on to the next set of mud hills and ditches, before crossing back over the bridge  to the "end game" of the Beast.

But the Beast was not finishing without a fight.

Next up was another barbed wire crawl. Uphill. With two different parts. While being sprayed down with water. It was brutal. I saw racers give up halfway through. As with the first barbed wire crawl, I left my hydration pack at the beginning. And while, once again, that was probably the best decision, I was regretting it as I had to walk down the hill and then back up again with it.

Coming away from the barbed wire crawl, I saw a clean guy standing against a tree, wearing a completion medal. Full of hope,  I asked him how much more was left to the finish. He smiled and said, "Just up that hill." I can't remember what he looked like, but he was beautiful in my eyes at that point.

And he spoke the truth. Climbing what turned out to be the last hill, the 8-foot wall came into focus. I was so tired, I needed help, which I received. Then thirty burpees for a failed spear throw (of course!). A few yards away, a min-barbed wire crawl followed by the soap wall. I pwned the soap wall. Up and over. The over the fire jump, through the gladiators, and at last: Finish line! I crossed that bad boy, gladly accepted my medal (from Dirt in Your Skirt's Margaret Schlacter, no less!) and I was DONE. 

14 miles. 150 burpees. And a pretty green medal (soon to be joined by a gorgeous tri-colored one for completing the Trifecta).

Life is good.

Arooo!

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!

Mid-Atlantic Spartan Super 2012 - the update

First, I need to apologize for not updating sooner! Things have been crazy busy with work (I work for myself and my business is expanding). I think I may finally be done with the working around-the-clock thing, and things have started settling down.

Now...on to the Super Spartan update!

The Super Spartan was advertised as an 8+ mile obstacle course. But, as those of us who do Spartan series races know, the pre-race estimations are pretty darn poor. All said and done, the official distance estimate was around, oh, 10.5 miles.

Considering my longest distance to that point had been 6.2 miles, I ended up in a bit of a hurt at the end.

I ran (or should I say, walked) the Spartan with my friend Shana. She and I did the Spartan Sprint together and the South Carolina USMC Mud Run together. Shana has had a bit of a rough summer with her lungs, so we both knew this race would be slower than we would have liked in general.

Little did we know just how slow it would be.

All Clean and Smiling Pre-Race

We were in the 9:30 wave on Saturday. We lined up at the back of the wave (I mean, really, who were we kidding if we lined up closer to the front) and started off at a leisurely pace. I was a spirit leader in high school, and I'm sure Shana figured out pretty quick why I was good at leading cheers. I'm just lucky she didn't bean me in the head.

We went through the first couple of obstacles - over and under barricades (some through barricades). Under some nets. No problem. The course was set up on an old horse steeplechase run, so we then ended up going up and down the obstacles that horse would have jump. Being all of 5'2" (and only used to running on 2 legs) I had a slight disadvantage compared to the average competitor on the course, but I did just fine anyways.

After the first set of horse obstacles, we came to a hill trail that we had to climb. We met up with some other racers while in this area who we thought would be running at our pace, so we all agreed to stick together and  do the entire race. As Shana and I quickly learned, things are not always as they seem. While our compatriots were very nice, they were not as interested in running as we were. And so, as it turned out, we ended up walking, rather than running, most of the race.

Let's just say, lesson learned for the future, and move on from that, shall we?

More horse obstacles (over 3 dozen) and then we came to the barbed wire crawl. It must have been at least the length of a football field. And there were hills. I thought I came through pretty unscathed until a few nights later when the husband was scratching my head and found a definite scab on my scalp from a close-encounter with the barbed wire. Oops.

More running. Then the monkey bars around the 4th mile. At the Carolinas Sprint,  I made the first rung, and that was it. I wiped my muddy hands off on the grass and started swinging. I made it halfway across, and then I hit a patch of mud on a rung and bam. It was 30 burpees for me.

There were more hills after that.My calves started giving me warning signs on those hills and I started popping Sports Beans, trying to keep my calves from mooing too loudly.

More obstacles. Wall climbing. The women had slats to help them out, and I got over with no issue.

Next big obstacle was the log balance. Stumps about 2.5 to 3 ft high were spaced across a patch of field, and we had to jump from one to another and cross the field. I had successfully completed this at Rugged Manic in May, so I wasn't too scared. I made it across with no problem. The guy next to me channeled Daniel LaRusso on the last stump and did the crane off of it.

Cargo nets followed. I love cargo nets. Honestly, I do. Up and down. Up and down. Big smile on my face.

Tractor flip was next, around mile 6. There were men's and women's tires. I came. I saw. I flipped. On to the next obstacle.

The next obstacle was the Hercules pull. Basically, pulling a weighted bucket using a rope and a pulley. I used a trick I learned on the Spartan Chicked Facebook page to conquer this one - using my hand to "tie off" the load as I pulled on it in order to make it less likely to slip through my fingers. 

More running in the sort-of manner. I'm sure all of my "teammates" wanted to bean me as I encouraged them to run a little bit more.

Next was the sand-bag carry. Females had to carry a 20-lb sandbag (men had a heavier weight) up and over boulders, under trees, and across a trail. For a muddy mommy, it was a piece of cake. Unlike carrying a toddler, the sandbag rested nicely on my shoulder and did not kick or scream the whole time. Bonus: It did not pull my hair, either.

More pseudo-running. Then a lovely high cargo net. *aahhh*

The next obstacle was a new one. We had to put a rubber band around our legs and hop over obstacles. Having had two children, this was the obstacle that proved to be harder for my bladder control muscles than my leg muscles. Let's just say, I fought the law of gravity, and the law won.

Next up - climbing muddy hills followed by climbing a soaped-up incline wall. Not an easy feat, but one that  I proudly accomplished without any help.

By this point, I was having to stretch out my poor calves after every obstacle. Cramps were constantly threatening me. I had shared more Sports Beans than I should have and my calves were not happy with me.

The cement block pull was next. Basically, we had to pull a cement cinder block around a field by a chain. I had a sneaking suspicion we were paying for the privilege of tilling someone's land for them.

From here, we walked/ran to the last high wall. The volunteer stationed there warned us that lots of people had cramped going over the wall. And we pretty much all got added to the illustrious list. As I was perched on top of the wall, I was not sure if my calves would cooperate enough for me to come down. But they did, and I came down safely without help. I have to say that at least 75% of the people going over that wall cramped on it, judged by the screams I heard.

Good times, people, good times.

Finally, we made it to the last few obstacles, all centered around the viewing area. First up, the horizontal traverse wall.

Hangin' Tough

At the Carolinas Sprint, I fell off of the Traverse Wall on the second hold.  I was determined to do better at the Super. I carefully picked my way to the end and put my foot onto the last hold. A-ha! Victory at last. I held my hand out for the last hand hold and...

Wham! Down on the ground. Burpees for me.

So glad there were no children listening near by.

Next up was the spear throw. Yeah, who was I kidding. I knew there were burpees in my future.

Last major obstacle was the rope climb. Sure, I had accomplished it in the gym, but that had not been after covering over 10 miles. The bottom of the rope pit was filled with mud and water. I waded into the waist-high water and started my climb.

 Starting to Climb

To tell the truth, I was exhausted. I gave it my all. I fought through as much as I could. And I climbed a whole lot of the rope. But I got to a point where my leg muscles all simply said: "Hellz no!"

On the Way Down

I made it between one-half to three-quarters of the way up before I knew I was not going to make it. Again, far better than I had done at the Carolinas Sprint in March, but not completion.

I did my burpees and prepared to rush the gladiators at the end. Bam! Through both of them! Got my medal, smiled, and then -

The calves called it quits.

I went down with painful cramps in my left calf. For 5 minutes, I sat in the t-shirt area, massaging my calf and willing myself to stand up. Volunteers were kind enough to bring me bananas and sports drinks, and I did finally stand up and walk out of the finishers area. My friend Laurie took pictures. We all smiled. Things were good.

And then my right calf said," Screw this!"

Bam! I went down again. The cramping was so bad, my right foot was pulled in towards my calf. Laurie was nice enough to help me work out the cramp, and after 15 minutes, I could stand up again. 

So, I completed the race, which was my goal, even if it took a whole lot longer than I would have liked. I had a good time, but because I didn't push myself, honestly, I didn't feel a huge sense of accomplishment at the end.

I did learn some lessons, though, that I hope will help me as I prepare for the Carolinas Spartan Beast in October. First, I need to get some mileage on these legs! The Spartan Beast is advertised as between 10-12+ miles, which in Spartan Speak means probably 15 miles. I've started running again in preparation. Second, I need to fuel throughout the race better. I picked up some Cliff Shots Rox and used them on my 7-mile run last weekend - not bad! And three, I learned that unless I honestly push myself, completion won't feel all that sweet, because even if no one else knows it, I will know that I didn't try my hardest.

Now, if I could just get my calves on board...

All Mud Runs are not Created Equal

I ran (and got hooked) on obstacle racing during August 2011, when I ran Warrior Dash-Carolinas. I had such a blast, that I couldn't wait to do it again. So, when a group of friends suggested teaming up for the inaugural "Roughneck Challenge," I was game. The event had been advertised at the Warrior Dash, so we all figured it would be on-par, or at least close, to the level of the professionally run Warrior Dash. We all dutifully ponied up our $45 and began preparing for what was described as "No Mud. No Mess. Just Race."

As we found out, the organizers spent more time thinking up their advertising slogan than they spent on the actual race.

When I arrived at the race site, I was surprised to find that the advertised live music and family-friendly games were non-existent. As I walked towards my teammates by the registration booth, I saw only  two vendor booths. The race was held at a local high school, and looking around, I wondered what course had been laid out in order to equal 5k. I was shocked to find out that the course was only 2.5k. Participants would have to run the course twice.

But it got worse.

In order to time the race correctly, participants would have to change bibs between course runs. 

No. Seriously.

After my team ran the poorly put together course the first time (we joked about how many stinking cargo nets we had to climb), a course sparsely monitored by apathetic volunteers, we declined to run it again. The organizers had our $45 a piece; we weren't giving them our pride too. 

It seems, however, that we made out better than the participants of last weekend's Mud Wars in Chicago.

No water? Few bathrooms for over 6000 participants? Obstacles that were patently dangerous and fell apart?

No thank you!

Obstacle racing is still a relatively new sport. And unlike traditional road races, there don't tend to numerous OCRs within easy travel distance for people to choose from. Seeing this void, unscrupulous and/or ignorant entrepreneurs are racing to put together mud runs (and get your money). As tempting as it is to feed your appetite for OCRs, it's probably a good idea to put your credit card back in your wallet when it comes to most "inaugural" OCRs. Unless the organizers have worked on some of the more highly-regarded OCRs (ex: Tough Mudder, Spartan Race, Rugged Maniac, Warrior Dash, etc...), you'll probably be wasting your time and money. 

I wish I could say that I learned my lesson after the Roughneck Challenge, but no. Sadly, this past June, I signed up for yet another "inaugural" mud run. And once again, I wasted my time and money.

Lesson learned. At least that time, I only paid $35 for the taste of extreme disappointment.