As we waited for our wave to be released at the starting line, we heard a motivating pep talk from one of the event organizers. I'm a sucker for pep talks, and I honestly think it's what got me through the first few miles so well. He spoke about the reason we were there that day. Not to compete, not for the best time, not to succeed at every obstacle, but to do something difficult that scares us. He spoke of another mudder who recently passed away from battling cancer. He said don't feel bad for him, he accomplished more in his last years than most of us will in a lifetime. That mudder found strength in events like these, despite his diagnosis. The organizer also spoke of the fear and pain you might feel when facing an obstacle. He said to put in the context of a soldier who defends our country, a police officer, a fire fighter, and EMS who don't even hesitate a second before running into a dangerous situation to save a life.
At that point, you could have put anything in front of me and I would beast-ed it!
We ran the first 3 miles pretty consistently, but then my asthma started to affect my breathing and I needed to slow down. For miles 4 through 10, I ran sprints when I could and walked when I couldn't run.
The first obstacle set the tone that this was NO game; crawling through mud on the ground with barbed wire above your head. They failed to mention all the rocks and concrete only an inch under the mud which hurt like a bitch and tore up my elbows and legs. I spent the next few minutes complaining about it. Rule #3 Tough Mudder: "I do not whine, Kids whine."
Another significant moment was an obstacle called the King of Swingers, where I had to jump in mid air from pretty high up, grab a trapeze type bar, swing on it to hit a bell (yeah right), and then plummet into the muddy water (12 feet deep). I hesitated at the top and then finally let go. I was surprised that I grabbed the bar (it looked so far away). But then as I started falling towards the water, I filled with terror and began to panic. I hit the water pretty hard and came up gasping for air (although I can swim - it made no sense). Once I got to dry land, I literally curled into a ball and my eyes filled with tears. I needed a minute to get my shit together....
The thing that surprised me the most was the sense of community and comradery among participants. Anytime we needed it, there was a helping hand without having to ask. No one was being judgmental or putting each other down. At one obstacle called the Liberator, I had to scale a wall using pegs. About 3/4 up the wall, I misjudged the distance of the peg when I went to place my foot. My foot missed and started to dangle and I struggled to hold myself up. All I could think that I was going to fall to the ground and break an arm or leg. Then all of a sudden, some woman pushed me from below, allowing me to place my foot on a higher peg so I wouldn't fall off the wall. An angel.
Around mile 8 I thought I was going to die. I was completely exhausted, every muscle hurt, and I've never run that much distance before. I suggested we cut through and skip the last 2 miles, but we decided to persevere and finish it, skipping the last two obstacles instead.
As we crossed the finish line and enjoyed our victory beer, I was already scheming on when I could sign up for the next one!
In other words, I'm hooked!
