Tag Archives: Mud run

Another Mud Run in the Record Books!

My third mud run is behind me and here is what a nearly 54-year-old guy can tell you:

I was definitely representing the ahem, senior class. That is, the 50 and older crowd.

I was surrounded by youngsters, most of them in their 20s and 30s, with some even younger, like in their teens.

I kept up with one young whippersnapper who was about 13 or so.

Every time he was walking but then saw me running, he would start running as well. I kept pace with him for a good while, so that was cool.

There was one guy who looked like the pitchman in the Old Spice commercials: Chiseled and six-pack abs.

Of course he was in my wave and of course he was shirtless.

He immediately dusted me on the course.

I decided I hated him.

Me? I was in a skintight sausage casing, including leggings that made me look like I was auditioning for Mel Brooks’s “Men in Tights.”

I had more rolls than a delicatessen.

Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.

On the other hand, there was quite the assortment of people in all kinds of shapes and varieties. This was no beauty pageant.

For most people this was a chance to socialize and make an outing of it with friends and family.

Some of the signs along the route on this mud run, the Warrior Dash at Pocono Raceway, were inspirational: (“Two miles done. One to go!”)

Some made me smile. (“Be careful on the course. Call me when you’re done. Love, Mom.”)

And some were downright unfair. One about a tenth of a mile from the starting line, one sign read: “Finish line. (Just kidding. You have another three miles to go.)”

There was lots of climbing of steep ladders and other obstacles.

I heard one woman say of her efforts to get over one: “Well, that was not very ladylike.”

Not sure what she did.

Me, pre-mud.

One obstacle featured real barbed wire and I saw some women climbing OVER the wire.

Even though my privets were tucked in high and tight, I said no thanks and decided not to risk it and did a soldier’s crawl UNDER the barbed wire, thankyouverymuch.

I finished the 5K and its 12 obstacles in 48 minutes, which was a minute better than last year’s performance.

In crossing the finish line —  hark!

I could hear the cheering!

The shouting!

The screaming!

Oh wait.

That screaming was my legs and knees! Never mind.

Related:

Finding Meaning in the Mud

Some Final Thoughts Before My First Mud Run

 

 

 

Finding Meaning in the Mud

When I was about 12 and at a weeklong Boy Scout summer camp, I recall walking through the woods with a bunch of my fellow Scouts on our way to an outdoor Sunday Mass.

Paul Naehle, who was one of the senior scouts and had a booming voice, called out:  “C’mon, Mele! You’re bringing up the rear!”

Lo these many years later, this was memorable for two reasons:

One, I remember feeling embarrassed that I was the caboose in this line of Scouts (aka the slowpoke).

And two, Paul’s voice thundered through the woods. But it turned out we were much closer to the site of the Mass than we realized, so when we got to where everyone had gathered, they turned around, wondering what Paul was shouting about, and, no doubt, who was this guy Mele.

Well, Paul, some 40 years later, I can proudly tell you I’m no longer bringing up the rear.

I just finished my second mud run – the Warrior Dash at Pocono Raceway – and I held up my end admirably.

For a guy pushing 53, I finished the 3.3-mile course, which includes 12 crazy obstacles, in 53 minutes. (I’m hoping that my finish time and age don’t continue to coincide as I get older.)

The obstacles struck me as much more challenging than last year.

Maybe last year I had the advantage of being a newbie and not knowing any better, or maybe I’m a year older and the body parts don’t move and pivot the way they once did.

I won’t lie: I did struggle more with some of the obstacles and I did stumble. Anything that called on me to use significant upper-body strength or balance I had trouble with.

Crawl through trenches of mud with barbed wire inches above my head? No problem.

Use ropes to climb a steep vertical incline to a great height and then swinging your leg around at the apex to make it back down a ladder-like lattice on the other side?

Hmmmm….That was trickier.

And getting through the “Pipeline,” heavy rope netting shaped like a cylinder, was particularly frustrating. My foot kept get caught in the gaps and there was not much room to work with.

Still, I am happy to say that I ran more of the course than I did in 2016 – even if at the end, my knees and legs were barking at me.

The thing that was most remarkable though was the turnout: People of all ages, shapes and sizes, and of all levels of fitness.

Some guys had the bodies of Greek gods and others of repeat visitors to Greek diners. (As for me, wearing tight-fitting leggings, I felt like a human sausage.)

Regardless of their body types, strangers were friendly and courteous to each other.

They took turns at the obstacle courses. They cheered or applauded encouragement for others. They lent a hand when needed.

And they did this all for charity – to raise money for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.

In the end, what I discovered is it isn’t how fast you finished or whether you look like you can grace the cover of Men’s Health magazine.

Challenging yourself, being in the community of others, and having fun for a good cause – that’s what it’s all about.

Related:

Some Final Thoughts Before My First Mud Run

What I Discovered in Conquering the Warrior Dash

Training for the Warrior Dash!

What I Discovered in Conquering the Warrior Dash

It was about 10 minutes after leaving the starting line at the Warrior Dash at Pocono Raceway – keeping pace with the top third of my wave of fellow dashers – that I really, really wished I had had a second cup of coffee.

I knew there would be a dozen obstacles that included climbing through channels of mud and through pits of mud and wading through muddy water with barbed wire inches above your head, but this running thing?

That was going to get old quickly.

Notably, though, within about 15 minutes after starting, participants were not running like they were in a marathon.

Instead, they were walking and talking with each other and enjoying the experience.

What I learned was that this “race” was not really a race at all.

The competition was inside your head.

Could you clamber up the side of a tall barn-shaped structure and climb down the other side?

Could you walk across a narrow board spanning a pool of muddy water and not lose your balance?

Could you take a rope and climb a steep incline and then use a rope to get yourself down? (I felt like Batman and Robin from the 1960s television series where they scale the side of a building.)

batman

I truly was not sure how I would perform until I got out there.

Each obstacle was marked with a sign that read “Danger: Obstacle Ahead.”

“Danger”?

Holy crap. That was intimidating.

Reading the fine print on the waiver I signed was also not exactly reassuring.

It said that I understood the dash was a test of my physical and mental limits and “an inherently dangerous activity” that included extreme obstacles of fire, mud pits, barbed wire, cargo nets, heights, climbing and jumping into water, among other feats of derring-do.

It went on to say that the course might include plants, insects and wild animals.

It even mentioned death three times for crying out loud!

I will say though that the course was infused with a sense of humor. The obstacles were dotted with signs like “Yes, we wish you had trained too” and “If your ex could see you now.”

The thing that I came to appreciate as I climbed and crawled was that if you kept your mind focused on the fun, you could have a good time.

Yes, I had poured myself into some tight-fitting bike shorts that made me feel like a sausage. There were plenty of muscled shirtless guys who easily lapped me.

But you know what?

There were also people of every shape and size and a few guys of a certain age like me out there giving it their all.

Driving home I was a bit sore, hungry and had some muddy grit in my ears even after showering.

Still, I was elated because:

a.) I made it.

b.) The median age of the participants had to be like 27.

c.) And I got through the course in respectable time.

Maybe as A.A. Milne said: “You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem…”

Some Final Thoughts Before My First Mud Run

I’ve got this.

I do.

Right. Right?

It’s the day before I “participate” (read: run, fall down, scrape my knees, get wet, get muddy and fall down some more) in a so-called mud run, this one the Warrior Dash at Pocono Raceway in Long Pond, Pa.

For those not familiar with these races, they feature a series of obstacles, including rope tunnels to climb through, large inclined ramps to scale and mud pits with names like Chaotic Cargo and Deadman’s Drop.

And, oh yeah, this is for fun and charity. It benefits the St. Jude Children’s Hospital.

I had signed up for my first Warrior Dash last year but ultimately had to be a no-show because I could not get off the time from work.

But this year I have no such excuse.

The crazy thing is I’ve not run in a competitive event since I was a freshman in high school which was … (*takes out abacus, calculator and counts on his fingers and toes*) … a long time ago.

Further, you’re talking about a guy who did not like gym class in high school because I would sweat too much. (By contrast, however, as a kid, I would spend afternoons running around the neighborhood, playing “army,” climbing rocks and rolling around in the grass. So go figure.)

My wife has asked me several times in the past week or so if I was growing nervous as race day approached.

No, I said with a shrug. I’ve been working out regularly and even though I am nearly 52, I’m pretty sure I can hack this.

But her questions have prompted me to look more closely at the race course.

A dozen obstacles consisting of mud, fire, rope nets, climbing, balancing on a board and crawling under barbed wire.

That’s scary enough but even scarier is that I will be impersonating an athlete, pouring my body into one of those forming-fitting biker shorts, which will accent my muffin-top (you’re welcome for that image), shorts and one of those sleek shirt tops.

So come tomorrow, after an hour, I will emerge muddy, sweaty, bloodied but victorious.

I got this. Right?

I guess I will find out tomorrow.