Overcoming Obstacles

My first obstacle for the Spartan Race was signing up for the Spartan Race.  That’s because last year I chickened out before even entering it.  There were legitimate reasons: 1) It didn’t make sense to twist my ankle before a competition, and 2) I watched a YouTube video of the Austin race and realized those people running in it were crazy.

But this year was different.  This year I turned 40, and decided it was time to stop letting fear get the better of me.  I tricked encouraged my husband, Henri, and one of my bodybuilding teammates, Lori, (who in turn tricked encouraged her husband) to run too.

This is no longer a niche sport.  What started as a small obstacle race with 700 people four years ago, has turned into a lifestyle choice for millions.  There are now over 100 Spartan Races each season in multiple countries.  (The Sprint is 3+ miles with 15 obstacles; we were doing the Super, which is 8+ miles with 20 obstacles; the Beast is 13+ miles and 25 obstacles.)

We drove an hour to the middle of Nowhere, Texas.  We parked in the dirt after passing miles and miles of cars and trucks.  After signing a waiver that said we fully comprehended how insane we were for doing this, we had to walk half a mile to school buses that drove us onto the ranch.

We found our friends near the start line.  We all made a pact that our goal was to just finish the race and we wouldn’t hold each other back.

But before we could even get to the start, we had to scale a wall.  This freaked me out a little; I never jumped over a wall before.  “Oh, Lisa, come on, this is nothing,” said Lori.  I made it over the wall and learned a little trick – hook your foot over the top and that way you’re less likely to fall.

The elite athletes started at 6 a.m.  At 9 a.m. they started “open heats” where about 300 people grouped up to start the course.  We were now Spartans.  Every 15 minutes between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m., 300 new runners would start.  Our time was 2:15 p.m., right when the Texas heat really reminds you who’s boss.

They said the trail would be 8+ miles with obstacles in between.  By 8+ what they really meant was run 9 1/2 miles that included climbing a mountain around mile 4, after you did a deadlift of a 65-90 lb. concrete ball, walked it across a line, did 5 burpees and carried it back.  (This was the obstacle where the ambulances were parked.)

We scaled 12 foot walls (three at a time,) then ran some more through rocky terrain.  We flipped tractor tires, hopped on uneven logs, climbed through tunnels on our bellies, rolled under barbed wire and swam through creeks.

Joe De Sena, the co-creator of the Spartan Races, said in a recent interview with me that the race was 80% mental, 20% physical.  I think it might be more like 70/30 though, because people were dropping like flies around us.  We saw a person pass out, another hit his head on a rock, a very fit 20 something guy throwing up, and lots of people having to sit in the shade when they got dizzy or leg cramps.  (The medics were busy that day.  And did I mention we all signed up for this?)

Henri and I kept a slow but steady pace because we didn’t want “Death by Spartan Race” on our tombstones.  So we walked the hills and ran when it was flat and caught up to Lori and Mickey at mile 7.  They got slowed down at the wall you had to climb upside down, and we made up time running after we caught a second wind.

With each obstacle accomplished, I felt stronger then before.  My bodybuilding training served me well; I had the endurance from HIIT training to hike the mountain without cramping, and the strength to carry heavy sandbags.  Shoot, I even got a little cocky and passed some 20 year old chick when I was dragging a cinder block with a chain past a red flag.

In that moment, yeah, I felt like a badass.

There were two obstacles of the 20 that I just couldn’t complete.  One was throwing a spear at a target and the other was starting waist-deep in a pool of muddy water, climbing a rope and ringing a bell.  You would think that my pole dancing would have prepared me for this, but a metal pole isn’t wiggly like a rope.

So I had to do a total of 60 penalty burpees (30 for each failed obstacle attempt.)  There was one combined obstacle where you had to swim under a wall and then climb over a wet, muddy, slippery wall.  At the very top I lost my footing and slammed against it, but I didn’t let go, dug in my heels and hooked my foot over the wall, like I learned earlier.  That felt like an accomplishment.

Rolling through mud under barbed wire was actually pretty fun, because I never really cared about getting dirty.  But some people were clearly miserable, and scraped up their knees pretty bad.  Others got their clothing stuck.  (One guy apologized for mooning everyone accidentally.)

They say at at Spartan Run you will know when you finish.  Our finish meant jumping over fire, literally.  That was the part in the YouTube video that scared me the most.  You can’t really train for that at a gym because it’s more mental than physical.  The distance was completely achievable, but then my mind started playing tricks.

“What if I fall and burn myself?”  “What if I made it all the way to the end and then messed up on this one?  Would everybody laugh at me?”  I was frozen looking at the fire and then my husband grabbed my hand and we took a running jump over it together.

It was over.

I can’t wait to sign up for another.

And, I would like to add, we are in our 40’s and 50’s.  So don’t make age an obstacle – try a Spartan Race!

How about you?  Have you ever tried an obstacle race?

Lisa 

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