Photo credits to Alvin Nguyen

Last week, a group of 25 CrossFit 101ers headed out to Patterson (east of Tracy) for the 2012 Norcal Tough Mudder Obstacle Course race at Diablo Grande.  This was the second year our gym participated as a group for Tough Mudder.  After last year’s Tough Mudder experience (see here), I wasn’t expecting many 101ers to be interested in participating again, but after many students heard about the “near death” experiences, we had a good number sign up.  Goes to show you that people are always looking for a challenge because life’s a graded event.

If anyone asked me what they needed to do to prepare for Tough Mudder, I would obviously tell them to CrossFit.  It’s not that I’m biased, it’s just that for the time and energy you put in, there’s just nothing that comes close to physically and mentally conditioning a person as quick as CrossFit.  The movements we do are function based and when you need to crawl through tunnels and climb over walls, that functional training sure comes in handy.  If I wanted to prepare myself or train others for Tough Mudder as a competitive race, I would add in endurance interval hill sprints.  For how we tackle building up endurance, we can hang with most traditional endurance athletes, but Tough Mudder specifically includes elevation climbs and nothing quite prepares you for that besides hill sprints and climbs whether on terrain or on a treadmill.

How did this year’s Tough Mudder compare to last year’s at Squaw Valley, I would honestly say that it was half as grueling.  There was plenty of elevation climbs at Diablo Grande, but the warmer weather, being at sea level, and the soft terrain made this year’s event literally a cake walk.  At the end of the day though, I was glad to be able to share some great experiences with our 101ers.

So here’s a rundown on some tips you may find handy for the next one:

Tip #1: Get hooked up.  I don’t know how a marketing branch for GM eventually came across our Tough Mudder training post, but they asked me if I was interested in testing out a Chevy Volt and using it for the trek up to the Diablo Grande event as they were looking to get traction amongst the Tough Mudder community.  I happily accepted.  Seeing how gas is now close to $5 per gallon, I wished they would let me test it out all month!  Before I started up CrossFit 101, I used to work at NUMMI, a joint venture company between GM and Toyota.  And, one of my job functions as a quality control engineer was to evaluate vehicle performance and quality.  I can tell you that after being behind the scenes in automobile manufacturing and development, I’ve gained a whole new perspective on what it takes to make a good vehicle.

The Volt is the first electric/hybrid vehicle I’ve ever driven and after having it for the weekend, I can honestly say that I missed the characteristics of the car.  Taking it up to Diablo Grande was fun.  Helen and I drove up around 11pm, after we closed up the gym, so traffic was pretty light.  The quietness of the electric motor was refreshing and after climbing the grades over 680 and hitting highway 5, with its long straights, I’ll testify that the Volt feels very comfortable and solid well past 85mph…in sport mode :)  The little guy fit four of us comfortably, took on the dirt roads leading up to the event parking, and has enough digital gadgets and functions on it to keep you busy for days.  I appreciate GM for hooking me up and I’m pretty sure we were they only ones who were rolling up to Tough Mudder in Volt!

Tip #2: Allow plenty of time to put on make up.  Part of our swagger plan for this year’s event was to costume up in the theme of “Braveheart”.  I thought I would only ever have to wait for my wife to put on her make up, but apparently, I also have to wait for my best friend to apply his blue face paint as well, lol.  I wanted to be the first on station at Tough Mudder as we planned to have the 101 crew meet up at 9.  But after some delays and the back up that ensued as the rest of the Tough Mudder nation arrived to the event, we didn’t arrive until much later.  We started at the time I planned to have us go anyways, but a few Mudders were a bit grumpy, that’s just when you have to welcome them to the new plan and Mudder up.

Tip #3: Travel in packs.  Last year our group traveled as one pack and although it was nice to be able to support everyone, it has its challenges with balancing the experience for the more advanced team members against the ones who have less conditioning and capabilities.  This year, I split our team into for sub groups based upon the groups’ skill levels.  This made the flow of the day much easier to manage.  For the next event, I think we’ll still do this but have one advanced team start after all the rest and act as a sweeper team to pick up any team members who may fall behind.

Tip #4: Rely on your teammates.  Whether it’s helping one another with a boost over a wall or being on the other side of the wall to assist each other down, Tough Mudder is meant to build camaraderie so why not use each other and share the experience.  Usually Everest, the half pipe obstacle, is the one obstacle most cannot complete without the help of another member, but this year, with the running start that was given, it was possible to clear the top of the half pipe on your own.  The small mud hill obstacles were the ones that caught me by surprise this year.  The small hills were so slippery that you have to depend on the team member below you to anchor your footing so that you can push yourself to the top.  Once near the top, another team member can help pull you up.  I definitely liked the addition of these simple obstacles to the course.

Tip #5:  Don’t cramp.  Water and salt are your friends.  Some people drink too much water at one time and flush out all their salts, which may lead to cramping.  Another way to minimize cramping is to pace yourself out.  Our lead group attacked the hill climbs by running up them, but after 4 miles of doing so, a few in our group started severely cramping up.  If you don’t know, that is pretty early in the game to cramp up on a 10+ mile course.  Luckily, with some massage, water, and salt, we were able to manage their cramping and they continued on throughout the day just fine after we took it a little easier on the climbs.

There were a whole lot more people this year who got carted off the course due to cramping.  On that note, there were a whole lot more people on the course who looked like they never trained a day in their life for physical activity.  Don’t be that person.  I don’t care if you CrossFit or not, you got to train in something if you plan on taking on even a mile of hill climbs.

Closing: I’m always proud of our 101ers.  However, seeing some of our less experienced members take on this challenge was especially inspiring.  As obstacle course races gain popularity, there will be tougher and more extreme events that pop up.  What I want our 101ers to always remember is to have fun and enjoy the journey.  We train to live, and it’s easy for many of us, myself included, to get caught up living to train.

I look forward to hitting up next year’s Tough Mudder with our 101 team again.  Regardless of what event we do, I know you all will do it with style, do it to the best of your ability, and will never leave any 101er behind.

For more pictures and vids of the event, check out our CrossFit 101 page on Facebook.

**Bonus Points for CGU and the School of Theology.

Scripps:

Ah Scripps College for wome(y)n! All-girls schools have a reputation for lame parties and studious homebodies

Scissor Me Scrippsie

but don’t be fooled. This place is a hot bed of four-year-queers and naïve freshmen ready to experience all that Claremont has to offer.

How to: Sign up for a gender studies class, get a Miley Cyrus inspired do, and leave your bra at home (for dudes, get in touch with your gentle hipster side).* This is a 5C challenge after all. Or you could, you know, go to TNC and look for the high heels and short skirts.

*Note: this method has also proven to be effective at Pitzer. Get those two birds with your one liberal arts cliché stone!

What to expect: First of all, have you been to Scripps? They earned that spot on Princeton Review’s “dorms like palaces” list. Expect to hook up in luxury. And when you’re done, reach out the window and pick an orange for a little post-coital snack. She’ll probably want to cuddle and chances are you’ll probably be like, “one down, four to go” as you expertly navigate the maze of hallways in her dorm only to get hopelessly lost in the goddamned walled in gardens.

Pro Tip: If you feel like bi-curiosity is just too much to ask, there are some y-chromosomes hiding out in Scripps’ post-bac program. It’s poor sportsmanship but I’ll let it slide on a technicality.

Difficulty: 4.

CMC:

Formerly Claremont Men’s College, Claremont McKenna still boasts more bro tanks per capita than frat row at

freshmen girls drink free!

Arizona State with a party scene to match. But remember these little CEOs in the making know love fades, but money is forever, so don’t get attached.

How to: Doesn’t matter where you go, North Quad, the Senior Apts, or TNC, the alcohol will flow and your opportunities are endless. But be careful, the kid who just offered you a red cup of unnamed mixed drink might very well go to Pomona, sucks to suck bro. Impress the cutie on green beach with your keg stands and for the love of god do NOT mention that gender studies class at Scripps you just enrolled in.

What to expect: “Have you seen the view from the roof of the Kravis Center? No? Oh, I have to show you! It’s breathtaking. Yeah you need special key card access to get up there after hours. I have it because I work for the Rose Institute, it’s very prestigious. I’m interning for five different Fortune 500 companies this summer. I’m kind of a big deal.” You won’t be asked to stay the night, but then again do you really want to in a dorm that looks like a sleazy motel? Yeah, didn’t think so.

Pro Tip: Girls, for the first month of school the guy you are dancing with will ask if you go to Scripps. I don’t care if you’re a junior at Pomona, just repeat after me ladies, “YES! I’m a freshman!” Desperate, but effective.

Difficulty: 2 if you’re a freshman girl. 8 for everyone else.

Harvey Mudd:

Their SAT scores are perfect and their starting salary is six figures. They’re a little socially awkward but they have that sexy nerdy style, that’s totally a thing right? At 70% guys, this one is a real challenge for the dudes. Good luck on your hunt for the cuties.

How to: The elusive Mudders, best found in their natural habitat, don’t often associate with the rest of the Claremont Colleges. Giant bonfires and computer hacking can intimidate even the most experienced 5Cer. Don’t fall for the obvious choices of Foam (hold on, I need to vomit) or Club Two300. Even though these parties are hosted on Harvey Mudd’s campus, you’re as likely to find a Mudder there as you are at a casting call for the Jersey Shore. Time to call up your roommate’s best friend’s lab partner that has that one Mudd friend. Maybe she can introduce you.

What to expect: Expect the unexpected. There might be a cape involved. It might take a Rube Goldberg machine an entire five minutes to hit the snooze button in the morning. Whatever happens it will make one hell of a story. And if you’re lucky you can skip the walk of shame and get a ride home in a motorized little red wagon.

 Pro Tip: Don’t touch ANYTHING. That innocent looking chemistry experiment could very well be a meth lab.

Difficulty: 10. The search for the hot Mudder continues! Seriously guys, if you find one, give him my number?

Pomona:

Their egos are the only thing that’s big on this campus. These guys have some serious East Coast envy and are trying pretty hard not to let it show. It’s the oldest of the five but don’t be fooled by their seniority, everyone here is still bitter they were rejected from Harvard.

Harvard, how COULD you??

How to: Pomona does throw its own parties on occasion, but you’re better off looking for the out of place kid in a button down Thursday night at CMC. You’ll always be able to spot them, they stick together and have a permanent look of smug superiority.

What to expect: You’ll go to SkySpace, the fountain with the light show every hour, where you will be one of seven other couples oohing and ahhing at the show. You’ll be lectured on the importance of Russian literature in modern education on your five hour walk to South Campus which is LITERALLY in the village. He’ll put on Marvin Gaye and you’ll endure fifteen minutes of loud grunts and “say my name, baby” before he rolls over and declares that you just had the best sex of your entire life.

Pro Tip: You’re already in the village, so get your ass to Some Crust for brunch sliders. It’s worth it, trust me those things are fried in delicious and sprinkled with crack.

Difficulty: 1.  I mean, it’s Pomona.

Pitzer:

Known for protesting other protests and driving the Claremont weed market, Pitzer is the epitome of a small liberal arts school. They may not be great at math, but these kids know how to have a good time. While the other four schools are in the library, Pitzer is chilling on the mounds. Spend an hour here and even the most liberal student will start to feel like a racist, homophobic asshole.

you wanna be high for this…

 How to: Befriend that weird kid in your gender studies class whose double major is “Social Constructs of Gender, Queerness, Sexuality, and Propaganda” and “Decolonization of the Mind.” Go to a party where the only music is tribal drums and everyone is on shrooms. Brush hands with the kid who passes you the bong and accept the invitation to a spiritual sexual encounter.

What to expect: His wall is covered in weird Lisa Frank animal stickers that haven’t been cool since second grade and he will refer to the cardboard box in the corner as the “Imagination Station.” He’ll stop making out with you to analyze the lyrics to the painstakingly prepared hook up playlist he casually put on when you guys walked in. After dry humping your leg for a solid twenty minutes he will proudly declare that it is your turn and proceed to hold your hand while muttering “this is so great” into your cleavage. Realize that you are clearly not on his level and quietly slip out. Hear from a mutual friend two days later how he apparently had the “most intimate sex of his lifetime.”

Pro Tip: If someone offers you drugs (they will), take them. Shit is gonna get weird and you might as well enjoy the ride.

 Difficulty: 5. Most kids at Pitzer are down to try anything once, take advantage.

Good luck and remember, when all else fails, there’s always No Regrets.

- Haley Patoski ’14 CMC

Left to Right – Mark Graham, Matt Rayner, Scott Sadgrove, Laurie Kinsman, Yours Truly, James S., and Dave R.

This blog is usually about making things, whether pottery, cake, whatever. I like a good challenge – usually I stick to creative challenges.  If it’s never been done – let’s give it a go. When I heard about the Tough Mudder challenge for the first time this year, in January, I was like, “doods, that is way too intense for me”. I have claustrophobia issues. I have a heart condition. I’m a 40 year old working mom of two boys under 7.  And I can’t run more than 1 km without dying. But the seed was planted. The mental challenge. “Maybe I *can* do it”.  So I trained, ran, lifted weights, tore my calf muscle, all alongside making cakes and pottery, working full time and taking care of my awesome kids and husband. I jumped into lakes, trail ran with my buddies on the weekend. And it all came down to the start line on Saturday.

EPIC, is the only word I have left to describe how I feel now. It’s a combination of “Holy Shit I can’t believe I did that”, and one of the most humbling experiences of my life. To be a part of such an awesome team, I absolutely could not have done it without them. The only experience I can compare this to is giving birth. But just like that, once it’s over, you want to crumble with joy and the sheer awesomeness of having done something you actually didn’t think you could do. Talk about confidence booster. I’ve got bragging rights for LIFE, and here are the photos to prove it.

The photos speak for themselves – thanks to Amber and Melissa, our awesome spectators for taking these pictures. If it weren’t for the pictures, I may not believe I accomplished this with my team.

Let me tell you something else.

This morning, my son asked me if he could bring me to school for Show and Tell.

That there makes every dent, scratch, and bruise worth it.  That’s Real Life.

Put your mind to it. Believe in yourself. Get a team of bad-ass friends. And if you want bragging rights for the rest of your life, go to http://www.toughmudder.com and sign yourself up. Right now. Overcome your fears. You will never regret it. If I can do it, so can you.

If Ironman and Burning Man had a love child (what other type would it be?) then the Tough Mudder would be it. And its not a nice kid. Three miles into the race there was a sign that read “If you were doing a Warrior Dash, you’d be done right now.” This is not for the faint of heart.

After climbing over two 8ft walls, Chris and I  lept into a 4 ft ice pit called Arctic Enema. The ice felt so amazing in comparison with the 90 degree weather surrounding us. This was the beginning: the first mile of the Tough Mudder that was surely going to kick my ass. What followed were 3 small mountains, 18 more obstacles, and 11 more miles of the most grueling race of my life.

Along the course countless medics raced passed us in ATVs. One stopped at a runner who had fallen due to leg pain. The medic asked, “do you need a ride?”

“No I’ll be ok” the runner replied grasping his leg.

“Ok, well I can offer you some water and a bit of MAN UP.”

True story.

The obstacles included things like Everest where you must use your fellow mudders in order to charge up a muddy quarter pipe and Berlin Walls, a series of 12-15 ft muddy wooden walls. After Walk the Plank (where you jump off a 15 ft ledge into a mud pit) my right ear began throbbing as it filled with mud and slim. But it wasn’t all terrifying, Chris and I managed to sneak a kiss during the Mud Mile, a series of waist hight mud pits at varying levels.

So after 12.5 miles of feeling dizzy from the heat, cramps from the obstacles, and overall exhaustion from the whole event, Chris and I finished. We were covered in mud, dirt and sweat, but we had made it.  And it feels damn good to finally be able to call myself a Mudder (and sport this new snazzy headband!) .

Trail running always seems harder than running on the road so I always feel like I’ve put in more of a workout than the actual mileage I’ve run.  We did a little over 7 miles but said the actual effort felt closer to 13   Seriously – there were a lot of hills!

Trail running always feel a bit more adventurous too, plus I love the feeling of being immersed in nature away from the cars and buildings and people that crowd a normal run.  Would I run trails every run?  I don’t think so.  As much as I enjoy it, it’s nice to be able to run on flat ground and not have to dodge rocks, roots, and holes.  Plus, trail running is something I prefer to do with someone else but don’t always have that option.  I like trail running but don’t like the vulnerability I feel being by myself in the woods.

While we were out on the trail we talked about doing a Rugged Maniac next year (something about trail running that makes you want to conquer adventure races).  I mentioned the Tough Mudder but the thought of the electricity element kind of scares us.  So we’ll see!

Happy trails to you!!

Talking to my physical therapist last Friday we discussed the up coming Tough Mudder challenge that I had signed up for months before my accident.  Should I run Tough Mudder or not?  He looked at me like I was slightly crazy and I was wondering the same thing in my head.  Later that night I was still conflicted as the first of two couples running the event with LO and I arrived at our house.  We had a primal dinner and catching up it was great, but I still couldn’t make up my mind if I should run.

Then the next morning the second couple rang my door and promptly walked in with open beer bottles in hand.  I can always count on them to make things interesting, with that my mind was made up and I opened a beer as well.  I signed up for Tough Mudder as a fun thing to do with friends and I was not going to miss it.  I did agree to bypass the obstacles that either I couldn’t or shouldn’t do and we piled in the powerstroke econoline en route to the Mudder!

We made good time taking back roads knowing traffic would be bad, but it all came to a halt about 2 miles before the event location.  Then we spent the next hour crawling like a snake with our fellow mudders (and maybe a few unlucky residents). It felt like forever and we even discussed aborting early and jogging to the start.  We decided to just carry on (which after the race seemed like the right decision), we were in good spirits a little longer in the van wasn’t torture!  Being in the van for so long did require one of the team members to run out into the brush and keep this in mind.  If your spotted by the slowly (very) passing cars while your taking care of things, just smile and wave back as she did! It’s only polite.

Now we’re at the Mudder and getting checked in, the excitement is growing.  This event was massive, over 24,000 people signed up over the two-day weekend.   It was fun to watch the pull up competition and you could even get your head shaved into a Mohawk just in case you needed some extra style for the challenge.  There was so much going on prerace I’m sure I missed a lot.  Our heat time was up and we gathered towards the start and braced ourselves, after all it is dubbed the toughest challenge out there.

I wont go step by step through the course but what I do want to go over is my feeling walking away from Tough Mudder.  I’m glad I decided to run the race even if I had to bypass some of the obstacles.  Is it the hardest physical thing I’ve done? It doesn’t even come close but with that said it was one of the most fun physical things I’ve done.  Tough Mudder calls out that it’s not a race but a challenge and that’s for a reason.  Most of the obstacle you need help concurring and it built such a comradery among the runners and not just the ones in your team.  I had people I didn’t even know reaching out to pull me out of the mud soup ditch and over the berm.  Then I turned around and did the exact same thing for the people behind me.  It gave me such satisfaction, helping people achieve was more fun than me achieving.

In most races you want to beat the person your competing with.  In Tough Mudder you want to see or help everyone around you complete the obstacle.  If you saw a Mudder struggling you chant “Lets Go Mudder!” it was about helping raise them up to keep going, and whether they made it or not you would celebrate the effort!  I was in pretty bad shape for this event but it didn’t matter that I was running slower than I normally do or that I couldn’t complete some of the obstacles that I knew before the injury would have been cake. What mattered is that I was there and I was giving it what I had and giving back what I could.

It’s a big event and it had logistical problems (traffic, parking, beer tent to small) but Tough Mudder won me over Saturday and I will be back next year to join my fellow Mudders for another day of sweat, team work, pain, laughs and memories.

A Tough Mudder event is said to be “The Toughest Event On The Planet” and “Where The Iron Man and the Burning Man Meet.”  In reality, they aren’t the toughest event on the planet from a physical perspective, as things like a true Olympic level Iron Man are far more challenging.  However, the folks at Tough Mudder have done an excellent job of combining a real “cross-training” physical challenge (e.g. 20-30 military style obstacles), along with some real mental roadblocks that test your courage (e.g. ice baths, running/crawling through electric wires, etc.) and all in a supportive team environment.  The events are well done, the sense of teamwork and camaraderie is amazing and powerful.

I have participated in three Tough Mudders to date and am signed up for two more in 2013.

Whether this type of event is appealing to you or not, the training required to prepare (and finish) a Tough Mudder is great.  There are a number of different exercises and circuits available which will help you become or sustain a body that is “functionally fit”.  There’s a great video on the Tough Mudder website that covers some training elements (click image below):

In addition, there are a number of circuits that you can use to prepare for a Tough Mudder, that will also provide some excellent new elements to your workout.  Click the image below to access the Tough Mudder Circuit Training content.

Small steps add up!

I was being serious, but the difference is- it’s a good hurt. It still makes you tremble and cringe, your mind spinning as you wonder when on earth the 90 minutes of near 40 degree heat will end. It requires a phenomenal amount of focus to just breathe and stay in the room, let alone work your body through the series of 26 challenging yet satisfying postures. But the sense of accomplishment when you maintain your balance or touch your toes for the first time ever (happened to me last week!!) is amazing, and I’m thoroughly addicted to the way your body flushes with happy endorphins after a deep stretch.

‘Doing yoga’ might sound glamourous or pretentious, but when you enter a bikram studio you leave your pride and self-awareness at the door. It’s only you and your reflection, and I relish the feeling of focussing on a point in front of me so much so that my vision blurs around it and it’s all I can see- when I get like that I could balance forever. Oh, and not caring that I’m sweating so much that it drips off my chin in ‘standing bow’ pose.

I’m supposed to be training for Tough Mudder in Sydney this September, and I hadn’t planned on weekly yoga being part of my fitness routine. But I know that none of my training (running, weights, sit ups) has given me anywhere near as much determination and endurance as Bikram has. My pain threshold is now amazing- I feel armed with the comfort that no matter how much your brain is being bombarded with the urge to cry or give up, if you can push through it your body will become even stronger.

Regular yoga practice has also been great to offset the other training I’m doing, making sure that my joints stay healthy and I don’t strain any muscles. I am more flexible than I have ever been (hint: some of the postures resemble some wicked sex positions!) and healthier, too. I had my wisdom teeth out a month ago and was pretty much fine the next day- when does that ever happen?! The stretches are great, and by the end of it you feel like you’ve worked your entire body inside out, bones to skin. I really like that it’s the same routine every time, and that you can set yourself your own personal challenges and goals for the class.

I realise that I’m very lucky to have the opportunity to practice regularly- it’s quite time consuming and not particularly cheap. But I can’t put a price on the clarity of thought and positive mood regulation that is afforded to me by 90 minutes of being compelled to concentrate on one thing- challenging your body and mind to be its best. Some of the most emotionally difficult or stressful days for me have been turned around by smashing out a wicked bikram sesh.

I do hope that my body is set for a quick recovery from my hospital visit- I won’t be able to practice/drive/do any sort of training until my bandages are off. But at least my yoga has given me the inspiration and determination to write an entire blog post with only one hand!

More info + FAQs:

http://www.bikramyogafitzroy.com.au/

http://www.bikramyogaav.com.au/

Nothing else is new, but I am really interested in doing a Tough Mudder event. I have been checking it out the past few days and I am really interested in participating in one. If you have any training suggestions or any other information about Tough Mudder, please let me know!!

Until next time,

Abbey

It started shockingly well for getting out of bed at 4:25. I am the exact opposite of a “morning person,” but I was downright chipper. Much like one of those people that we “not morning people” want to punch in the face can barely tolerate.

This is what the world looks like at 5 a.m. from my driveway.

So, Grant comes and picks me up and we head out. We stop so he can get gas while I figure out how to remove the sleeves from my team t-shirt. Turns out, I’m pretty good at destroying clothes with only my hands, without actually destroying the clothes.

The back of the team t-shirt. It’s missing the “Walk the Plank” obstacle.

We head over to Tim Horton’s, where we, I’m sure, end up ordering nearly one of everything they have, but in the super slow, disjointed way that really peeves off the people who work drive-thrus (trust me, I’ve been one of those people). Give us a break, it was barely 5 a.m.

We officially hit the road and immediately began to lament our Tough Mudder decision. Truthfully, a tiny part of me had been hoping that Grant would text me with some reason why he couldn’t go. And, by his own admission, he did consider it very briefly.

Through our “What the hell were we thinking?” and “Gawd, these tights are so ridiculous” moments, it was a good drive. The traffic wasn’t bad (obviously, because few people are crazy enough to be out of their beds at that time of day), and the conversation was good, if a little nutty at times (obviously, because we each got out of bed during the 4:00 hour). We also decided that our battle cry for the day would be, “Happy Enchilada!” (obviously, right?).

We arrive at the parking area, but not before Grant had to endure my repeated statements about the need to pee (it was a very large tea that I drank on the way). We get in line to get on the bus, and I’m struck by the number of people and the feeling of nervous excitement/panic that we’re all sharing.

Waiting for the bus to fill so we can head to Tough Mudder.

After a bus ride that included our driver reversing the bus for a couple of hundred metres, we arrived at the Tough Mudder site, witnessed each other’s Death Waivers and stood in line to get marked. It was strange to me that people were heading into what was sure to be an incredibly physically gruelling few hours but were concerned about having five numbers written with a Sharpie marker across their forehead and then on either their arm or leg. I was number 61956, in case you’re wondering.

We found our team easily, as they were donning the radioactive zebra (thank you, Sara) tights and headbands and were, therefore, very difficult to miss. We prepared for the course by duct taping our shoes to our feet, putting on various braces (and, in my case, duct taping those on), stretching, scoping out other obstacles and generally just having fun as a group (knowing we would, shortly, be moving onto certain death).

Here I am trying to look all snarly. The nervous excitement is getting the better of me, though.

Take two. Not much better at the snarly attempt.

When our entire team had arrived and was ready, we headed over to the starting gate. What I didn’t know (I’m not sure any of us did) was that we would, first, have to scale a wall to even get into the starting area. I took a jump at it, but couldn’t make it. I have no idea who gave me a boost, but I thank them. I pulled myself up to sit on top of the wall, so that I could survey what I was in for at the bottom. It was at that point that Jen and Vice saw me and quickly made their way over, as I looked at them with what I’m sure was a look of terror about dropping straight to the ground. I probably muttered something like, “I can’t, I can’t,” and they lowered me easily.

After the Tough Mudder emcee psyched us up with a series of “Hoo-RAH!” cheers, we were on our way.

The course started off with a trek (some ran, some walked) up a very long, rocky hill. It was not a ton of fun. Our first obstacle was Kiss of Mud, where we crawled through mud under barbed wire, and the barbed wire got closer to the ground as we went. This one was relatively easy for me, as I laid on my stomach and easily dragged myself through with my hands and arms. I, of course, lost my number through this obstacle, but it didn’t matter, as I had it marked on my forehead and arm.

Next came Arctic Enema, but not before another trek up and then down some ski hills. As much as I hate being cold, there was no good reason to skip Arctic Enema. It’s a 12-foot (or so) long dumpster filled with ice and then just enough water so that you can make your way through the ice. At the halfway point, there’s a wooden barrier, with barbed wire on top, so that you have to go under the barrier. I knew what I had to do and then I just had to do it. I got to the obstacle, climbed the stairs to the platform and immediately jumped as far as I could. I actually got to the barrier, held my nose and went under. Upon coming up, there was an initial, “what the hell just happened to my heart and lungs?” kind of reaction, but then I saw Julie at the end of the dumpster ready to pull people out and quickly made my way over and pulled myself out, so she could help the next person.

Wanna guess what came before the next obstacle?

Up and down more hills, of course. The hills were killing my knee, especially the downhill treks.

I caught up to most of the team (some were behind me) at Berlin Walls 1, which was a series of three 8-foot walls that Mudders had to scale and drop from. Obviously, I skipped this obstacle, but I found my team and stood with them to cheer on those who were doing it (which was most of them).

Next up (after a flat and then downhill trek) was Underwater Tunnels. The name of this one is deceiving, because you aren’t actually in a tunnel. Rather, you walk out quite a distance in water to where they have floated a series of four strings of barrels. You go under one, come up, go under the next one, come up and so on. Then, you make your way through another distance of water before you’re on dry (muddy) land again. This was another easy one for me. I walked out with Jen, Vice, Nathalie, Paul and Estella, went under the barrels and then started to walk to land. After just a few steps, it occurred to me that I didn’t need to be walking (and worrying about where I put my feet, for fear of twisting my knee), as I could swim the distance easily. So, I swam. I swam past several people, one of whom looked at me mildly baffled and asked what I was doing. “Swimming. I can swim,” I said. And then he swam too. It was at this point, that Jen and Vice told me that James was walking the whole course too, because of his knee, so I caught up to him, and he and I walked the next several obstacles, while the bulk of our team ran past, then caught up, etc., depending on where we were.

Then, came more up and down hill treks before we got to Cliff Hanger. This was one that I had decided beforehand I had to see firsthand before I would know if I could do it. Now, I think I could have climbed the mud ramp, but – before you could get onto the mud ramp – you had to go into a deep ditch and get yourself up a four-foot mud wall. After watching several other people attempt and then do it, I decided it was not a good idea for my knee, so I walked the hill beside it.

Following more (guess what?) hills, we got to Hangin Tough. This was eight rings over cold, muddy water. You had to swing from ring to ring to get to the other side. The challenge was, as I stood on the plank next in line to take a turn, I couldn’t figure out how I was going to reach that first ring. I turned to the guy behind me and said, “I’m not sure how I’m going to get a hold of that thing.” His response was simply, “Huh. I’m not even sure how I can help you on this one.” So, I jumped for the ring, managed to grab it, swung with everything I had and almost reached the second ring before I fell into the water.

Then, more hills. Seriously, the hills were ridiculous, and you’d climb a long distance, then get to a relatively flat part, then see that there was still more hill to climb. It was awful. The hills were, easily, the most challenging part of the course. I think everyone on my team agreed that the obstacles were nothing compared to all the freaking hills.

We got to Mud Mile, which was different than on any of the videos I had seen. It was a series of ever-increasing deep ditches, that started off being filled with water and moved to being filled with mud. You had to either jump the ditch or jump into the ditch and climb out. Again, because of my knee, I skipped this one.

More hills. And, when I say hills, remember, I’m talking about ski hills. We went up and down ski hills all day long to get to our obstacles.

Then, we got to Spider’s Web. This was another one that I wasn’t too worried about, but I wasn’t anticipating that the rope web that you had to climb up and over would be so high. I’m going to peg this one at 10 feet. The people who had already climbed it were on the other side, laying on the ground pushing their feet into the net and holding it with their hands to keep it taut for those who had yet to climb. I began the climb and got more than halfway, before my knee gave out. I stopped. The guy on the ground behind me offered to climb up and push me over, but I knew my knee wasn’t going to hold. I climbed back down and walked to the other side of the rope. I figured, especially since I didn’t complete the obstacle, the least I could do was go around and hold the ropes. So, I jumped in, shoulder to shoulder with the others who were doing it and held on. After a few climbers, both guys on either side of me bailed at the same time, while someone much bigger than me was starting to climb. Before the two guys who were subbing in for the two who had just left could get in place, the climber stepped full on my left leg. His toes were on my knee and the rest of his foot was on my shin. I cannot adequately describe to you how much that hurt, and I yelled, “Fuck!” as the climber’s weight came down on my knee and shin. The guy beside me (on the other side of the guy who was just getting into place directly beside me), looked over at what was happening (because I yelled) and asked if I was okay. I told him I’d be fine. He said, “I’ll carry you for a bit, if you need me to.” Because Tough Mudders absolutely freaking rock. I did not take him up on his offer to carry me, though. I got out from under the ropes and walked on with James.

I’ll stop telling you now that there were massive hills between every obstacle.

We got to Trench Warfare and immediately tackled it. I was scared of this one, because I’m claustrophobic, but I wasn’t going to let my fears stop me from doing an obstacle. My knee, yes. My fear, no. We got into a line where there was only one person. We could see where people were coming out on the other side, but we had no idea how big the trenches would be, how soon we’d be able to see light, etc. I went into the trench and started army crawling. James came after me, as soon as he was sure he wasn’t going to get a foot in the face, and it wasn’t long before I could see light. They had put curves in the trenches, so you couldn’t see light immediately, but there was more than enough room to get up and crawl (as James quickly pointed out), so I got up on my hands and one knee and crawled through as quickly as I could. Just as we got out, the bulk of the rest of our team caught up to us. I ran (or something like that) around to the beginning of the obstacle and assured them that they would be able to see light very quickly and that they had lots of room, then ran (or something like that) back to James and we carried on with our walking.

Next came Walk the Plank. An obstacle that many of us were afraid of, and one that Cheryl and I had promised each other we’d do together. James and I waited for the rest of the team to catch up. Walk the Plank is an at least 12-foot climb up a very steeply inclined wall, then a jump off a narrow platform into cold, muddy water. As the climb up to the plank starts higher than the pit that the water is in, I’m going to say that it’s at least a 15-foot jump. Now, if you thought the guy who offered to carry me after Spider’s Web was remarkable, this is more remarkable (and, then, there’s even more remarkable to come later). Cheryl and I approached the  wall together and jumped for the first hand-hold. Because we’re both short, neither of us could reach it. Out of nowhere, this guy comes over to me, gets down on his knees and says, “Stand on my shoulders.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, do it.” So, I try to climb onto his shoulders, but he has to get down lower for me to do that. I climb up, and – as I’m reaching for the hand hold, he stands up(!) with me on his shoulders(!) and gets me high enough that two guys on the top can reach me and pull me up. They pull me up and I see that Cheryl has somehow (she climbed the railing) made it up there at the same time as me. She immediately says, “Don’t look down,” to which I respond, “It’s too late.” We stand there for a few moments and work up the courage to jump. A couple of times, just as we’re about to, someone jumps ahead of us and we have to wait until we can see them. Finally, we grab hands and just jump. I went so deep that I felt the pressure in my head. As I swam back up, I had a split moment of “I’m going to run out of air,” before I got back to the top. We cheered on our teammates who were at the top and working up the nerve to jump. One teammate got dragged off by another Mudder and they banged heads on the way down. But they did it! Another teammate told the volunteers to push her.

Up next was Boa Constrictor. This was another one that I had to see for myself before I could determine if I was going to do it. Although I’m claustrophobic, I was determined that the only thing that was going to stop me from doing an obstacle was my knee. Boa Constrictor is a climb down a corrugated pipe, into a trench full of cold, muddy water, that has barbed wire over it, so you can’t stand up, then a climb up another corrugated pipe. As soon as I saw it, I knew I could do it. It’d be a challenge, but I could do it. I went down the first pipe and hung out at the bottom of the pipe for a bit, because the people in the trench weren’t moving for some reason. Then, into the trench and started up the other pipe. Because it was muddy and wet, I couldn’t get a hold of anything with my hands or feet. I ended up turning onto my side a bit and using my back and right knee to worm my way up. As I got closer to the top, it got more challenging. I made a huge reach for the end of the pipe, though, and pulled myself out.

Pulling myself out of the Boa Constrictor.

It was at this point that my knee was absolutely screaming at me. I had started limping much earlier, but, now, the pain was getting really bad. It was also at this point that people started telling me there was no shame in quitting. I heard this several times over the next while, but I was not going to quit. If my knee took me off the course, fine, but I was not going to just decide to quit.

We slowly climbed and descended steeper and steeper hills.

My knee screamed repeatedly.

We got to Log Jammin, and I went for it. This was a climb under and over walls of logs. The under and over was determined by where the barbed wire was placed. It was work, but it was fine.

After this obstacle, there was a massive climb up a hill that went back and forth across the hill. I had to stop a few times. As we were walking this hill, we could see the next obstacle and that there was a steep downhill walk to it, then the obstacle itself went downhill.

When we finally got to the top of the hill, we walked on flat ground for awhile. When we approached the downhill, I knew I couldn’t walk it, but I was determined to do that obstacle. I could see it, for pete’s sake. I wasn’t going to quit now.

I sat down, and Stephanie and I went down the hill on our asses. While several people ran or walked past us cheering us on. Friggin’ awesome people.

So, we finally get to Greased Lightning, which is like a massive Slip-n-Slide into a pool of cold, muddy water. I stand up to approach the obstacle, sit down and slide down the rest of the hill. Fast. But with rocks under the sheet of plastic.

I walk up another small (relatively speaking) hill to find that we have to descend another hill. I start the descent. I have to stop several times, because of my knee. Five guys run up to us, and ask if I’m okay. I tell them I am, and one of the guys says, “Don’t worry. There’s a bunch of us. We’re going to carry you down this hill.” Then, HE picks me up and starts running down the hill with me. I am not light. He’s more than halfway through the course and he’s carrying me by himself. He says, “Hopefully, I don’t roll an ankle or anything,” as his teammates cheer him on. I say, “Oh my gawd, please don’t roll your ankle, I’ll feel terrible.” He gets to the bottom of the hill and puts me down. My knee buckles under me. What I didn’t know was that his teammates (and maybe Stephanie) had spotted and called over a First Aid cart. The two guys on the cart came over to me, I looked the driver square in the eye and said, “I’m only getting on if you’ll drive me to the next obstacle.” He said, “I will drive you to the next obstacle.” Unbeknownst to me, the other First Aid guy had gone over to Stephanie and told her that I would be driven to the Finish. I hollered to Stephanie that I’d see her at the next obstacle. We start moving, and the driver says to me, “You’re shaking, I’m driving you to the Finish.”

The feelings of disappointment and defeat begin to set in. At the First Aid tent, the paramedic helps me get my shoe and knee braces off, looks at my knee, asks me why I’m doing Tough Mudder and then brings me ice. As I sat there, I began to shake even more. To the point that my teeth were chattering. I wasn’t cold. It was the pain. I sat for awhile, the paramedic came back with a blanket and sat next to me because he was concerned I was going into shock.

I sat for awhile longer, with the ice packs and blanket, breathed deeply and then left the First Aid tent. My knee was so swollen, I couldn’t get my knee brace back on. I found Ken, Andie and Pete (who had completed the course in 2 hours and 19 minutes) in the picnic area. Again, radioactive zebra tights made teammates easy to spot. I hobbled over and sat with them, told them what had happened and tried not to cry. Andie gave me a sweater because I was still shaking.

Because I didn’t finish the course, I didn’t get my headband, t-shirt or my beer (which I sorely needed at that point). When it came down to it, I couldn’t even walk over to see if they would still give me a beer.

Ken, Andie and Pete spotted the bulk of our team and went to meet them, while I laid on the picnic table with their shirts, etc. Once everyone joined us (minus half a dozen who were still doing the course), I told them what had happened, and everyone insisted that I had nothing to be disappointed about, that I had done a good job, that other people had quit because they were scared or tired (but not hurt), etc. (I told you before that my teammates rock). We sat for awhile, talking about the day, while waiting for the others to come in, before everyone dispersed to the hotel or home. Grant decided he wanted to go to the human car wash before changing and heading home, so he did, while I waited at the picnic table. While he was gone, I put my head down and quietly cried…from the defeat, the disappointment, the pain and the exhaustion.

To be clear, I was not disappointed in myself, so much as I was disappointed to just not have finished. If you can understand the differentiation. I know I gave it my all (and then some), but my knee just couldn’t go on. I did nothing to cause a new injury, this was just exhaustion. Jen nailed it when I was talking to her. Had it not been for my knee, I could have completed Tough Mudder, and I could have completed it with the bulk of the team. It’s disappointing that my knee prevented me from doing so.

For me, Tough Mudder was a little about the physical feat and the mental grit, but also about stripping away some personal stuff.

I did the best I could.

At the end of the day, I ended up doing 12 kilometres (7.5 miles) of a 20-kilometre (12-mile) course. I completed nine obstacles. Really tried on a tenth and then helped with it instead, and cheered on my teammates at three.

I never got to do, or even see,

- Berlin Walls 2
- Funky Monkey
- Electric Eel
- Hold Your Wood
- Everest
- Electroshock Therapy

but I spent the day with an outstanding group of people, and I did the best I could.

Tough Mudders absolutely freaking rock, and if I could find that guy who carried me down that hill, I would kiss him. Hard. On the mouth.

Things I learned doing Tough Mudder:
- Tough Mudder is not built for short people
- You will sustain several minor injuries (bruises, scrapes, etc.), and you will have no recollection of when you sustained them
- Sometimes, even complete strangers rock
- The people I surround myself with are as awesome as they come
- Although I did not finish, there is very little that I can’t do

Will I do it again next year?

I’m not sure the knee will ever be able to take the doing the entire course. However, if the obstacles are in a different order next year, I will strongly consider it, as there were a few obstacles that I didn’t get to that I really wanted to try.

I also still need that beer….

Battle wounds from the day:

In addition to my left knee, my face being sunburned, my left wrist hurting for a reason I can’t determine, and the middle toe on my right foot feeling like it’s possibly sprained…

The GOOD knee.

Left elbow.

Right elbow.

Right bicep.

It’s almost here.

In less than 24 hours, I will be participating in Tough Mudder.

To say I’m fucking scared is probably the understatement of the year.

Tomorrow morning, I will get out of my nice, comfy bed insanely early (like, before 5 a.m.), so that one of my teammates and I can set out on the three-hour drive to insanity (who knew it would take less than three hours to get there?)

Honestly, over the last several months (I signed up in January), I have felt various degrees of both excitement and terror. Initially, I was very excited. Then, I re-injured my knee (I swear if any of you tell my doctors I am participating in this, I will find you) and wasn’t going to participate, which I was really bummed about. Then, I was encouraged back into participating last week. At the beginning of the week, I was pumped. As the week has progressed, I’ve become more and more scared.

For those of you who don’t know, Tough Mudder is a 20-kilometre course set-up with numerous obstacles designed by British Special Forces.

What the fuck am I thinking?

Have you seen our obstacle list for the day? No? Here it is:

OBSTACLE LIST
1. Kiss of Mud (that’s climbing through mud on your stomach, under barbed wire)
2. Arctic Enema (that’s fucking cold, like, really fucking cold)

3. Berlin Walls 1 (my knee and I are skipping this one, as an 8-foot drop to the ground would be bad)
4. Underwater Tunnels (Swimming under big water barrels. I’m not too worried about this one, except that the water will be fucking cold. Though, it’ll probably feel like a jacuzzi after Arctic Enema)
5. Cliff Hanger (climbing up a wall of mud)
6. Hangin Tough (15-20 gymnastics rings over more cold, muddy water)
7. Mud Mile (walking through more cold mud)
8. Spider’s Web (climbing a rope wall (this one actually doesn’t worry me))
9. Trench Warfare (crawling through covered trenches (have I mentioned I’m claustrophobic?))
10. Walk the Plank (jumping from 12- to 15-feet into cold, muddy water (have I mentioned I’m afraid of heights?))
11. Boa Constrictor (climbing down a long corrugated pipe, coming out into cold muddy water under barbed wire, then climbing up a long corrugated pipe (again, claustrophobic much?))
12. Berlin Walls 2 (my knee and I are also skipping this one, as it’s a 12-foot drop to the ground)
13. Funky Monkey (lots and lots of monkey bars over cold, muddy water)
14. Electric Eel (like the kiss of mud, except with live electrical wires over you, along with the barbed wire)
15. Log Jammin (climbing over and under logs with the barbed wire dictating if you’re going over or under)
16. Greased Lightning (sliding down a massive slippery slope into ice cold, muddy water)
17. Hold Your Wood (carrying a log up and then down a long hill)
18. Everest (running up a 15-foot muddy quarter pipe, that they’ve greased as well, to try to jump/climb over the top (my knee and I will also be skipping this one))

19. Electroshock Therapy (yeah, like the Electric Eel, but running)

Now that we’re less than 24 hours away from this insanity, I am experiencing serious What the Fuck Am I Thinking?-ism.

The excitement mixes with more and more terror/panic as we get closer to the event.

Last night, my knee hurt like hell, and I found myself wondering if it hurt because it actually hurt or if it hurt because I’m psyching myself the fuck out.

Seriously, who the hell does this voluntarily? (Shut up. I know a lot of people do.)

Did I also tell you that – as far as August goes – it’s going to be cold? Did I tell you that many of us had figured the Arctic Enema would be “refreshing” on a hot August day after having taken on half of the course? Now, Arctic Enema is the SECOND obstacle (we’ll have barely broken a sweat) AND it’s going to be cold. Did I tell you how much I hate being cold?

So, let’s see…

• My knee is injured (like, a 20-minute, easy walk makes it swell)
• I’m afraid of heights
• I’m claustrophobic
• I hate the cold

Gawd, this sounds like it’s going to be fun, doesn’t it?

When it comes down to it, this is going to be physically gruelling (we signed death waivers…for real), but the biggest challenge will be mental.

I already know that I am on the best team there is. The MIH team rocks. Seriously. (Here are just four of my teammates.)

I’ve been through tougher things.

I’ve given birth (twice, but the second time probably shouldn’t count, because it was pretty easy).

But, mostly, my team rocks. I said that twice because it should be said twice (at least).

I will do Tough Mudder tomorrow (scared or not), and I will prevail.

My team and I will kick Tough Mudder ass.

We will conquer Tough Mudder.

My game face.
You’re jealous of those tights, aren’t you?

You know you do.

This is as close to my Tough Mudder outfit as you’re going to get. Our tanks won’t be coming in at all, and the replacement t-shirts might not be in in time for pics before Tough Mudder.

So, I’m using my Swinger tank.

The kids took a bunch of shots of me and then begged me to post these two.

Hot, right?

Or something like that….

My team’s TOUGH MUDDER pants and headband.

Don’t mind the little piece of brain in the top right of the picture.

Once, I get the tank, I’ll put the whole outfit on and post pics, because, boy oh boy, do I look hawt in these pants….

Don’t mind the fancy tan lines.

Don’t worry. I’ll post pics of me in the whole outfit as soon as I get them. (‘Cause I know you’re dying to see that.)