So You Wanna Be a Mudder, Eh?

Since completing the Virginia Tough Mudder on Sunday, I've been called hard core, impressive, a tough chick, a rock star, a hero, and — much to my delight — invited onto a zombie apocalypse survival team. All of this is appreciated, but despite the hype on the Tough Mudder website, I really think that most people can – and will – finish.

I'm not by any means an expert on mud runs, but a handful of friends came out of the woodwork asking me about my experience and wondering whether they should register for (or, enlist, in Mudder jargon) and complete a future one.

Answer:     Yes.

Seriously, if you're interested enough to ask others about it, it means that you're intrigued and probably means you'll take the time to get up to speed physically if you're not already there. Or, at least, you have the intention to do so, right?

The following are the types of questions I was asked, and my responses...

How do you feel about it?
Tough Mudder marketing does a phenomenal job of hyping the intensity and difficulty of the experience. I spent much of the week beforehand freaking out about it. I wasn't kidding when I wrote that if I thought about it too much, I felt like puking. My Facebook feed wasn't helping any, either.

And, based on his knowledge of Tough Mudder, my super enthusiastic photographer/human SAG wagon wrote, after the fact: 

To be honest I thought you were gonna get creamed, so nice work.  :-)

Thanks, guys.

It turns out that I had a good day. Plus, I was wearing a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt that had extra mojo. One day of Tough Mudder in sunny, 50 degree weather in the mid-Atlantic (ie, not high altitude) was not the most physically or mentally difficult thing that I've ever done. I don't mean that to sound obnoxious. But because race organizers kept repeating "it's not a race," I didn't feel the need to kill myself. Although, I may have yelled at the Artist at one point that we had 6 minutes to cross the finish line in under 4 hours. Maybe.

I think how one finds the experience depends on (1) having the physical fitness to propel oneself roughly 10 miles, and still have enough left in the tank to complete (or giving a good shot at) the obstacles and assist those around you, and (2) one's ability not to get psyched out by the obstacles or discouraged by having lakes in your shoes after a few miles.  

I feel that my experience in the backcountry is one of the things that made Tough Mudder very manageable once I saw what I was in for. Weather and personal experience aside, the camaraderie and the Tough Mudder pledge also played a huge role. Before the start of every wave, this guy (he was awesome, by the way) standing in the center psyched up the crowd and then led us through the pledge:

As a Tough Mudder I pledge that…

* I understand that Tough Mudder is not a race but a challenge.
* I put teamwork and camaraderie before my course time.
* I do not whine – kids whine.
* I help my fellow Mudders complete the course.
* I overcome all fears

As a result, I got major assists on a lot of the obstacles, like the walls, ice bath, and hay bales. In retrospect, what I regret the most is that because of my size, I wasn't able to pay forward the physical assists. I did, however, come up on a guy that looked like he was struggling on the last uphill and encouraged him.

As far as event administration goes, there was confusion leading up to the event. During online registration, I (and everyone else) chose a date and time of start. About two weeks before the event, Tough Mudder posted start times. Mine was different than what I had wanted, and I didn't know about the change until I went onto the Tough Mudder website one week before the event. I thought it was weird that Tough Mudder didn't alert me that start times were posted, never mind that mine was not what I had chosen. In comparison, it's customary for road races to send out an email with your bib number and race info about a week before the event. I'm sure the Tough Mudder reasoning for this is that they're tougher than a road race.

Did you injure yourself (other than bruised knees)?

What bruised knees?

No. I accomplished my goals to have the same number of bones that I started with and all my ligaments attached. And no concussion. I mildly hyperextended a thumb while working my way uphill under a set of cargo nets because I slipped on mud and caught myself on my thumb. Other than that, it's bruises on my knees, the inside and outside of one thigh, elbows, and, oddly, my midsection, either from going headfirst on the water slide or from repeatedly folding myself over the Berlin Walls. By the way, if I wasn't wearing tights and a long-sleeve shirt, those bruises would have been scraped up bruises. Sexy.

I did see people limping on the course every now and then. There were a lot of loose rocks on the hills, so it's possible that people rolled their ankles. In looking at pictures on the Tough Mudder Facebook page afterward, I saw handfuls of people who had real (not mylar space blanket) arm slings and posts from people saying they dislocated shoulders on the slip n' slide. Given that there were approximately 14,000 people registered to participate in two days of Tough Mudder in Virginia, those are pretty good odds.

Would you recommend it? It looks like so much fun!!!

I haven't done any other mud runs, so I have no idea how the Virginia Tough Mudder compares to anything else. If you're looking into a mud run, be aware of the distance and terrain. Venue makes a difference in terms of course difficulty. Doing a 1000' vertical climb at Squaw or Whistler (where TM is headed in 2012) is a lot different than doing a 1000' vertical climb at Wintergreen, for instance. Think of it as a 10 mile run/hike (only the fittest among us are actually running up the fall line) with obstacles in between. Channel your inner child/GI Joe character.

Was it fun? 

I'm stuck between two rows of huge hay bales and smiling. Yes, I had fun.

Would you do it again? 

I don't have a burning need to do another one, but if a friend asked, I would. I had a really good experience. In fact, my experience was so good, I'm not sure it can be re-created. It was sunny, and I had a personal photographer/human SAG wagon carrying half of my energy chews and gels and a down sweater for when I was freezing my butt off, and giving me beta on things like the Electroshock Therapy obstacle (not the Smoke Chute, though - I was caught as off guard as everyone else). Given all that, I don't have a need to re-up solo, but if a friend were doing it and asked me, I'd be in.

How did you train for it?

I ran the Army 10-Miler two weeks earlier, so I was already trained to run 10+ road miles. I supplemented the running with a regular yoga practice and core strengthening at Fuse Pilates (full disclosure: I'm a Fuse Ambassador). 

Did you bonk ?

Organizing Honey Stinger energy chews, on top of the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt.

I am notorious for bonking, so thankfully, I did not bonk at Tough Mudder. I hydrated like a mad woman the evening before and day of Tough Mudder. I usually drink water until roughly one hour before a race, but on Sunday, I chose Nuun as my hydration beverage. I didn't carry a water bottle or hydration pack on the course, although some people did.

There were a few aid stations on the course, but unlike road races, it was less clear how far into the course – distance-wise – the aid stations were located. All of them had water and one had bananas, but it was unclear whether they would have energy gels. I could have sworn that I read someplace that they would have ClifShots, but I didn't see any, and now I don't see that written anywhere on the website, either. My favorite energy chews and gels are made by Honey Stinger, and I stuffed one snack-sized Ziploc of chews into a pocket. I was very lucky to have a human SAG wagon —a friend spectated and took photos on the course — and I gave him the rest of my chews and gels (although he pilfered one) to hang onto. Other than the major climbs and descents, he was almost always within shouting distance of me and the Artist, so I could more or less grab chews or gels whenever I needed. I can't even begin to explain how awesome this was.

What was the toughest part for you?
Staying warm after the first couple of obstacles.

Anything else?

Expect to get muddy!

For all the hype on how difficult the event is, the Tough Mudder organizers also emphasize that it's "not a race but a challenge" and focus on camaraderie and fun. I haven't quite sorted it out in my head yet, but to me, these emphases seem a little at odds with each other. Calling something über difficult and touting that only 78% of the people finish (not sure how they figure that one, since no one's keeping track and I saw maybe 2 people with D-tags) has the tendency to bring out competitiveness. And yet there's the bit about helping your fellow Mudder/leave no one behind...See what I mean?

That said, I would recommend doing this with at least one friend and checking the competitive streak at the door. Unless you have an early start and get out with a pack of like-minded people who want to and can go fast, you're just going to get stuck waiting to get onto an obstacle. And, if you're a guy — especially a guy who looks like he can lift people — you'll likely find yourself assisting at least one person over an obstacle. 

Conclusion
If it's on your radar, go for it!

Getting Dirt on the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt

In case you missed it, I wore a pink sparkly skirt at Tough Mudder this past weekend.

Still sparkling, even after 9+ miles and 20-whatever
obstacles, most involving dirt and a fire hose.

It was a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt, and it was awesome. I was most impressive with how lightweight the skirt was AND how well it sparkled, despite the dirt. Who knew? The Girls at Team Sparkle did, that's who.

I first learned about Team Sparkle and the two traveling skirts this summer, and I knew that I had to get in on the action. Like the awesome jeans in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, the skirts travel around the country, in this case from race to race, passing good mojo to whoever happens to be sporting them. The hot pink skirt unexpectedly arrived a month before Tough Mudder, at a particularly low point of my Army 10-Miler training cycle. It was the perfect pick-me-up!

Alas, it being a traveling skirt, after having my day in the mud, it was time to send the skirt off and pass along its mojo. So long, Traveling Skirt! I'll see you on a race course!

Laundered and ready to go!

Check out where the Team Sparkle Traveling Skirts have been, and get in on the action!

Tough Mudder Virginia Recap: It's Just Cross Training, Right?

Back in June, when a friend said that he and the Artist were registered for Tough Mudder, I looked on my calendar and saw that I had a cross training workout planned for October 23. No kidding. I am that much of a nerd that I have cross training planned 4 months in advance. Anyway, Tough Mudder = cross training, right?

Let's clear up the goals aspect of things first. I wanted to: 

(1) Survive
(2) End the day with the same number of bones that I started with, all my ligaments attached, and with no concussion
(3) Have fun
(4) Finish with the Artist
(5) Finish in under 3 hours
(6) Finish in under 2 and a half hours

I survived, ended the day with the same number of bones that I started with, all my ligaments attached (even the reconstructed one - yay!), and with no concussion, had fun, and finished with the Artist in approximately 4 hours and 10 minutes. 

Random aside, the website said that the course was 9 miles and would take an average of 2.5 hours to complete. I'm pretty skeptical of the 2.5-hour average, and if the mile markers on the course were correct, it was at least 9.25 miles. Not whining. Just sayin'.

The Artist and I had Sunday, 9:40am starts. After LIFE took over for everyone else we knew who had signed up, another friend – Ben – super generously offered to drive and spectate. This turned out to be an awesome decision.

At breakfast at the hotel Sunday morning, we came upon a guy wearing a mylar space blanket arm sling who had done Tough Mudder the day before. No offense to the guy, but a space blanket sling is still a space blanket sling: it means that he didn't injure himself enough to receive frontcountry medical care, which was enough to reassure me that I was going have the same number of bones and ligaments that I started with.

Local traffic to the parking lot in a winery's field was intense, but we quickly got onto a shuttle bus up to Wintergreen. Then it was off to sign in.

Items 1 & 2: Signing Death Waiver and 
Entry and Participation Agreement.

Item 3: Pick up race packet by last name.

Item 4: getting face marked. This was a little weird because I had 
just seen Les Mis at the Kennedy Center last week, so the number 
racing around IN my head was, uh, Jean Valjean's 24601. 
In three part harmony.

Item 5: No puking.

We also discovered at sign-in that as a spectator, Ben could come on the course as long as he didn't interfere with the obstacles. This turned into photo op gold and the perfect opportunity for a human SAG wagon so I didn't have to stuff all my Honey Stinger chews and gels into my tights.

Start line in the distance.

The Artist and I mugging for the camera 
one last time before heading to the start.

After a pump-up talk and the National Anthem, our wave charged onto the course.

The dudes lead the charge. See ya at the ice bath, boys!

The Artist and I make our way up the first of many jaunts up a hill.

First obstacle: Berlin Walls.

Multiply this downhill run 3 times. Maybe 4.

The Girls at Team Sparkle gave me the awesome opportunity to wear a Team Sparkle Traveling Skirt for Tough Mudder. The Artist was jealous and wanted his own. The woman in front of me at another obstacle was wearing a black skirt and was envious of the sparkles. Another woman at the top of a hill called me out, along with a cheer for girl power. It was pretty awesome.

Next obstacle: Jumping over hay bales like I do this every weekend.

I'd like to think, by the way, that it was my guaranteed to succeed strategies that pulled me through in some of these spots.

Another up, another down, then pick a log from the pile.

Props to the chicas who carried proper fire logs.
I swear this one was 3% my body weight.

The Artist killed it on the Funky Monkey bars.
I, on the other hand...

...took a drink. Yum.

We then dashed into the woods, I think, and came out at the Twinkle Toes obstacle. All those years of gymnastics training paid off.

Coincidentally, I hated the doing balance beam in gymnastics.

I think from here we went up some mountain biking trail, through some "bog" and then we wound up at the "Chernobyl Jacuzzi" obstacle, aka, dumpsters filled with ice water. I think in general the boys psyched themselves out on this one...

Guy to my right dropped the f bomb as I went in...

...then I couldn't get myself out. Nor could two guys.
It took THREE people to get me out.

On the Spider's Web cargo nets. The woman in front of me also was
wearing a skirt, but she lamented her lack of sparkles.

Next up: Slip n' Slide. Nice refreshing water at the bottom...

...sometimes I wonder about myself.

Crawling through muddy tunnels. Gotta love it.

Ducking under logs...

...followed by my now customary head-first exit.

LOTS of ups on this course. Right up the fall line, too.
Glad I didn't have to deal with elevation.

Also a lot of dirt. On my Team Sparkle skirt.

I actually got really, really cold. Like shivering cold. Not long
after this photo, Ben told me he ate one of my Honey Stinger
gels (which he discovered he liked) and gave me his down sweater.

Now a traipse off to the golf course. I was too cold to notice
the scenery, but it looks pretty here!

Somewhere along the way, we hit another obstacle:
going under and over logs.

Another couple of bales of hay...

The course then took us through the golf course and ~2 miles of paved golf cart road. Along the way, there was a mini tire/fast feet obstacle (it's what I think of when I think football combine, but that's probably not what a combine is).

Then, after a port-o-potty and aid station break, it was the second set of Berlin Walls, set higher than the first.

MANY thanks to the guys overhead pressing me.

Last mile, right?

From here it was a jaunt back to the ski area and then the Mystery Kick Ass Obstacle: the Smoke Chute. 

I hate spiders.

Love the TLC from the volunteers.

This obstacle was pretty freaky. It's essentially a slide that free falls for as far as I was willing to peak over the ledge and then levels out. Not gonna lie. This obstacle took my breath away. And, I hit the back of my head on this one and then got shot out of that slide so fast and far, I skidded off the plastic tarp. Some poor woman who had made it to the top of the ladder had psyched herself out and was in near hysterics. I hope she sorted it out.

Being small had a LOT of advantages in this...

All concentration on the Shake n' Bake. If you ever wanted to
feel like a breaded piece of meat, this was your chance.

All right, more cargo nets - this time, the Turd's Nest.

The grand-daddy of all obstacles: Everest.

Not my finest attempt. But the Artist nailed it on his second try!

Not the John Woo moment that I was hoping for,
but close enough!

And then finally, the moment of truth: the Electroshock Therapy obstacle. Ben gave us great beta after watching a bunch of people go through: keep you hands up so they don't get tangled in the live wires. Yeah, I wrote LIVE wires.

The Artist and I kind of look like Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid...

...with a happier ending. I wound up getting zapped about 3 times.
Each time, I yelped "Ow!" as though I was annoyed, mostly
because I don't think my brain realized what was going on.

Unfortunately, no epic finish line crossing, mostly because I chased after Ben as he ran through to set up for the shot. Obviously, I left my brain in the ice bath. If I can snag some pics off the official event photog site, I'll post them.

Dos Equis? Yes, please!

Cheers! And muchas gracias to the man behind the cameras!