Tough Mudder - Part 1

We're gonna have Tough Mudder Week since it was so insane in the membrane. This is part one, the story.

I signed up for the race with my brother and two of his tall, muscular friends. That was my bad. I'd love to say that I'm a superhero and I finished the race strong and powerful, but honestly doing the race with them made me feel weak. After every obstacle, they exploded into a run to the next, averaging what I would guess is about 8.5-9 minutes/mile. Ima be real with y'all. Anything over 5 miles I'm definitely more in the 10 minute/mile range, and the greater the distance, the slower my pace becomes. I spent a lot of energy in the first couple of miles keeping pace with them and it drained me, for serious.


They're all married, calm your tits.

It doesn't help that I can't eat much before exercising due to my asshole stomach. You have to have some fuel in the tank going into a strenuous race like this. I was running on fumes and seeing stars at mile 3. That's 3 out of 11. Shit. This was the first time I had to walk for a while. Yanno, because shitting my pants and passing out this early in the race would have been less than ideal. They met me at the next obstacle which is the first time I lost some of my clothing. Tequila doesn't make your clothes fall off, Tough Mudder does. It was the Arctic Enema, which sounds worse than it was, but we'll get to that tomorrow. I jumped in to the frigid water and emerged negative one bandana and hair tie. Pigtails shmigtails, at least I didn't shit myself. Yet.

When I say 3 miles, I don't mean 3 miles on a comfortable sidewalk with minimal to no incline/elevation and a jammin' running playlist in your ears. I mean 3 miles on a trail with steep hills, some of which you had to use your hands to climb up. HOW were my brother and friends averaging 9 minutes/mile here? Obviously they are superhuman. Someone please do some science on them to clone their abilities.

Pre-Race bro hug. Literally.
Note to the world: You don't have to stoop over when in pictures with me. Just something I've noticed.

It was at around mile 7-8 that I lost my shirt. My race bib and wristband were long gone, snagged on some obstacle. My shirt had ripped early in the race on some barbed wire we had to army crawl under. The tear lengthened at some point and I felt the two flaps of my soaking wet shirt slapping my skin as I ran, so I ditched it. I learned that all it takes are miserable conditions and the hope of a cheeseburger in my near future for me to be 100% okay with running in just a sports bra.

Every time I started to see stars again, I had to walk. I ran/walked between each obstacle to about mile 8-9, meeting my brother and friends at each one. At mile 9 I couldn't anymore. I had to walk. I was seeing stars constantly and it took every ounce of my being to keep my mind over matter. Pretty sure this is not what they mean when they say empty stomach cardio. 

Honestly, most people were walking almost the whole thing. I clung to that shred of truth every time I started to feel weak compared to my brother and company. It's not fair to myself to compare. The point is, we all completed all the obstacles (no skipping!) and we all finished the race. Right after getting electrocuted. 

Yes, electrocuted.

They tell you that going in. I knew it was coming. Everyone knew it was coming. I don't think I realized just how intense it was going to be, though. I was thinking, oh maybe a little zap. Sounds totes funsies. I was so wrong. Those shocks lay. you. out. There was a long line of people as we came up to the obstacle because everyone was apprehensive about it. This one had an announcer guy on a microphone commenting (and laughing like a HUGE BUTTFACE) on everyone getting shocked. He yelled out to the line of people asking if there was anyone who would just run straight through instead of crawl carefully under the high voltage dangling wire. My brother, friends and I pushed our way to the front and straight up went for it. This is one of the only times I had the size advantage. I shimmied through the wires 80% of the way unscathed before getting hit, then smacking the ground immediately. I was so disoriented by it that as I came back up, I got hit again, this one propelling me through the minefield to the finish line. As I dragged my leg through, I got hit one more time on the calf. But then it was over. I had finished 11 miles and 25 obstacles. I needed a hug, a bath and some food, not necessarily in that order.

The only post-race picture I have because I was too damn tired to selfie more than once.

We crossed the finish line, guzzled 2 dixie cups of water and headed to the rinse station. Hey cool story, they were OUT OF WATER. The volunteer smiled and naively directed us to a pond about 200 yards away where we could rinse off. I wasn't even mad, I was focused. The faster I got clean, the faster I could get food. I walked as fast as I could to the pond, which I imagine was right at about negative 6 miles per hour. We "rinsed" in the murky water and grabbed our bags and hit the changing tent. This was the first place I sat down and it was just the tits. Simply fantastic. I dried off and got dressed as quickly as I could so the boys didn't have to wait on me because I'm considerate even when miserable, and met them outside. They were standing re-hashing the race and I laid down on the grass next to them. Honey badger don't give a FUCK, I was so tired and hungry. Luckily they were nice guys and shared their almonds. (Bitches love almonds.) After laying down for a few minutes and eating a handful of almonds I felt better. Anything heavier and it would have been a vom-attack. It's a slippery slope with my asshole stomach. I exchanged my free beer coupon for a gatorade because beer was quite simply not gonna happen. It's important to know your limits. 

The cool part was that since our start time was so late (12:20pm), I was parked really far from the entrance. The other cool part was that my car wouldn't start. In an adrenaline-fueled haste, I grabbed the jumper cables in my trunk (thanks, dad!) and waved down someone that was driving by to give me a jump start. Thank goodness the battery died in a place where there were tons of people as opposed to in my lonely garage. (There's a butt joke here.) So now I'm an hour from home, have less than 1/4 tank of gas and need to buy a new battery before I turn my engine off. Oh, and I look like a sad, abandoned, mangy dog. Cool.

I made it to get a new battery and gas, assuring the car store guy that I woke up like this. 

Comments

  1. I don't know why I enjoyed this. And laughed when you said Honey Badger don't give FUCK.I think maybe I'm laughing out of nervousness because the BF and I are planning to do the Spartan run and I'll eventually be in your place? IDK MY BFF JILL?

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  2. This is so hilarious, it actually makes me want to do one of these races!!! Even though it sounds like you went through hell, it also sounds like you had a blast!! You are pretty bad ass!!

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  3. This cracked me up. Way to go doing it and completing it. Bad Ass Chick!

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