As I stood glaring angrily into the morning sun peeking over the top of the registration tent, I turned to The Boy and said “Sweetie? Pumpkin? Why the fuck do we do this?”
“This” was the Rugged Maniac, a 5K obstacle race. That’s right. 3.1 miles, 25 obstacles.
Here’s the thing. I used to run half marathons on impulse, because I was visiting friends and had a couple hours to kill. 3.1 miles is a warmup run. Since Crossfit, a few rope climbs and the occasional balance beam walk are a piece of cake. There’s no sense of “hooray for me, I can do this” at the end of an obstacle race, because I never doubted it in the first place.
I’m also not going to win.
People who win obstacle races have thighs that don’t touch, and ass cheeks that move in entirely separate orbits connected to their slender hips. Their abs have spare abs in case they run out of abs. They run shirtless, in case you might need to borrow some abs.
And, folks, I’m a touch competitive. I like litigation, I like mountain climbing, I drive too fast (within my capacity, Dad, I promise). So entering a competition I stand no chance of winning? Not my thing.
The Boy stared at me blankly. Finally, he shrugged. “I do it for the chicks.”
It kept me from killing him right there at 8am on a Saturday morning, which was probably his immediate goal.
The race started with the usual DJ cheerleading, calculated to get your heart pounding. My heart? Not pounding. I could not summon the palest “yeah” in response to “who’s ready to run.” On the course, it was even worse. The first obstacle was a cold muddy ditch. I’ve been struggling with Achilles tendon issues for a year, and icing my legs a hundred meters from the start line is not part of my recipe for a good race.
Then I got “London Bridge” stuck in my head. Not the rhyme, the Black-Eyed Peas song. And just the part that says “my London-London Bridge wanna go down.” Over and over. I tried everything. Cadences. Talking. My Sharona. Nothing worked. My London-London Bridge wanna go down…
Somewhere between the tunnel crawl and the teeter-totter run I found my groove. My legs hurt less. My lungs were working. There was enough mud in my hair to keep it out of my eyes. My London-London Bridge still wanted to go down, but that was bothering me less and less. And that bitch in the orange shirt with the cutout sides was less in front of me than she had been before all the wall climbs.
By the time I hauled myself over the ladder wall and slogged through the bubble pit (gosh, sorry, spectator lady, I didn’t see your toddler there, he was covered with bubbles) the endorphins had well and truly kicked in. The way I don’t get from just running anymore. The way I only get from Crossfit after Murph. That “I just got the living shit beat out of me and I could not feel more alive, I can eat fire and breathe hard vacuum” way.
The way that apparently makes me not care that I’m in a sports bra and not-actually-boyshorts pouring a gallon of water over myself in a parking lot.
As I car-danced to every song on the way home, The Boy asked sarcastically if I ever figured out the reason I race.
“Yeah,” I replied giddily. “I do it for the chicks.”
Tina said:
Amazing! This was very well written, and I enjoyed reading.
QueenOfTheDessert said:
I literally laughed out loud and I’m chronically in a shitty mood, so… REALLY well written.
Linda Roy said:
Haha! Loved this. So well done. You know, I used to work out to that London Bridge song only because it really got me into workout mode, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t get stuck in my head in an endless loop every time, so this really cracked me up.
saroful said:
It was terrific for about half a mile and then I realized it wasn’t going away. It’s like that horrifying moment in the Viagra commercial where the voiceover says “if erection persists for more than eight hours, see a doctor immediately”
Janelle Weibelzahl said:
Hahaha this was fun to read. Who the F leaves their toddler in the path of hardcore obstacle racers like you, though!?
saroful said:
I don’t know. At least five people. The bubbles are six feet high. I’m trying not to make “almost kicked a baby” the highlight of my day, but really it’s just late-action Darwinism at that point, isn’t it?
Janelle Weibelzahl said:
Maybe the babies were actually part of the obstacle course? As in, actual obstacles to be avoided, life or death kinda scenario?
Natalie DeYoung said:
There is so much I like about this post. Spare abs. Possible toddler mayhem. Terrible song stuck in head (and if “My Sharona” doesn’t kick it out, nothing will). I just laughed my whole way through this.
And I’m competitive as hell, so I totally get this. However, I have a colorful panoply of chronic injuries I am nursing at any given time, so I have to take it easy on the any-Ks.
saroful said:
Definite toddler mayhem.
C.C. said:
Excellent post….very funny and well-written. I’ve heard amazing things about Cross-Fit and am thinking, from my position as couch potato, of maybe thinking about giving it a try (see….still a little ways off for me) but reading about it was a much better way to spend this evening 🙂
claireodactyl said:
Hah! Loved this! I don’t know how you guys do these races! I have a friend who does this sort of thing…amazes me how torture can be fun!
Michelle Longo said:
My running life is a complete disaster. I briefly entertained the notion of training for one of these things because I think they sound like fun. But, well, no.
saroful said:
They’re much more fun than running. And there’s lots of people who just walk them. And you don’t have to finish the obstacles. C’mon, little girl. The first one’s freee….. (or at least the beer at the end and the race shirt are)
Jen said:
Omg this was perfect. Especially the ending! lol
Christine said:
$5 says that the next time you run one of these things, you’re still going to ask yourself why you’re doing it. 😉 This does sound like more fun than just plain running, though. I just can’t get my head around the *purpose* of running unless there’s a big dog or horde of fast-moving zombies behind me. (Those endorphin-thingies you mention? I only get those while singing, gaming, or on a good day, writing.)
saroful said:
So you’re signed up for the zombie race already, then?
Christine said:
*blink* HAHAHAHA. You’re funny. I don’t run. 🙂
Nathan James said:
It’s nice to know that I’m not the only who selects random people I’ve never talked to to be my nemesis for no good reason. Great story!
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Archita said:
Great Story. Obstacle races? Wow! I can only manage half marathon and full “walkathon”..:) And I too ask myself why I am doing it..the answer is pretty clearly known to all in the family; ” to check if my left knee still works after all ER visits and surgeries” ..:)