Tough Mudder

Ben several months ago signed up to do Tough Mudder in Tampa. It is 12 miles of 26 military obstacles that they have to complete. Our friend Jim signed up on his team and off they went this past Saturday. Below is a little glimpse into what happened in Jim's words. I wish you could have all seen them when they came home Saturday night, both walking with legs and arms spread apart and lots of limpy walking.


After they finished the race.

Race summary: Thinking that registration closed at a certain time (because that's what it said on the website) we arrived about 4 hours earlier than we needed to. That left plenty of time to walk around most of the course and take a peek at the obstacles. It was then that we say the quarter-pipe, a 12 foot high concave wall that was slippery as all hell. We saw one guy try for 20 minutes to get up it, failing every time. The worst part was that it was the second to last obstacle before the finish, so you're already worn out by then. Needless to say, we were haunted by the thought of it through the entire course.


We finally took off at 1300, and I almost bit it hard on the first obstacle, Steeple Chase. Approaching what looked like just a series of 4 foot walls, I got over confident, since I've gone over plenty of walls much higher. It wasn't until I was airborne over it that I saw the ditch on the opposite side. Nothing but luck kept me from landing the wrong way and breaking an ankle or two. I soon forgot all about it though, because the next one, Cherynoble Ice Bath had a similar effect to those zappy things the Men in Black use. It's a large dumpster filled with literally ice-cold water - they dump huge quantities of ice in it - with a bar in the middle that forces you under water. I jumped in and almost died, because the shock made every muscle in my body want to gasp for air. As I was underwater, somebody on duty inside my brain did a good job of activating the manual override until I was fairly certain I had broken the surface. For several hundred yards after that it was like being stabbed with a thousand needles all over your body. You could say it was exhilarating.

Onward we trudged, through 12 miles of cargo nets, mud, balance beams, mud, fire, mud, mud, mud, tunnels, mud, culverts, mud, 12 ft walls, and a little more mud. When we finally made it to the quarter pipe, we were sufficiently exhausted, but we both were somehow motivated enough (maybe out of fear of attempting it several times...) to get up and over it on the first go, and in pretty good fashion. After that was the home stretch, with the end so close it was almost impossible to feel anymore pain (except for Ben's leg cramp which tried to do him in 40 yards from the finish, which he powered through like a champ.) At the end there were pretty girls to don you with a head band, someone gave me a banana, then a t-shirt, then, the most glorious and delicious plastic cup of Dos Equis i've ever drank. It was only after we sat down, beer in hand, race behind us, that we discovered everything that could hurt, did hurt.

A long, cold, zombie walk to the truck, dry clothes, cranked heat, followed by another long drive to the closest restaurant, and we were able to finally relax. It was an awesome experience, glad to have done it. Thanks to Ben Morse for having the idea to run it as a team, because without accountability to someone else, I'd probably bitch out. Now I just need to learn how to walk again (my right hip flexor is useless) and I'll be ready for the Spartan Race in February. It's only 8 miles - kid stuff.