In case you haven’t encountered these crazies yet, there’s a new field of racing called obstacle course races. Similar to mud runs because, well, you get muddy, but way, way harder. The shortest race, a “sprint”, is 3+ miles and has over a dozen obstacles (like 6′ wooden walls, climbing nets, carrying a cinder block up a hill, spear throws, etc.) Check out SpartanRace.com for videos and Wikipedia for a description. The race I’d committed to was 5 miles straight up a mountain (a ski slope), through rocky trails and ravens and of course, climbing under barbed wire on rocky ground while being sprayed with a giant hose. My idea of a fun Saturday morning?
I didn’t know. I wavered the days leading up to the race, the night before, even as we loaded into the car. I wavered at the starting line and regularly throughout the course (when, I believe, it’s normal to wonder, why am I doing this?) It wasn’t until the finish line –or close to it– that I remembered how cool these races are. Because they kick your ass. They push your limits and scare the hell out of you (for example, having climbed up a slippery wet rope to find yourself now hanging 25′ in the air, exhausted; or having a gladiator run at you, intent to pound you with his pugil stick). Then you jump the fire, conquer, and feel so proud you might explode (at least your sore muscles).
I did know at the finish line. And maybe this time I’ll remember– because I’m going to register for next year’s race right now
May 23, 2013 at 8:16 pm
May 22, 2013 at 10:49 am
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