In Spartan races there are 3 different types of races – Sprint, Super & Beast – which vary in distance and the number of obstacles, from 3+ miles filled with 20+ obstacles to 12+ miles with over 30 obstacles. If you complete one of each race in a calendar year, it is called a Trifecta. Now I know that one of the main reasons you compete in these races is to test your limits, but let’s be real, it’s also about collecting the medals – the cold, hard, proof that you are a certified badass. And when you do a Trifecta, the smaller medals from the 3 races actually magnetize together to form an even larger, more impressive medal to showoff to all your family and friends (and really to anyone who will listen). So in my quest for a Trifecta this year, I was forced to run my first solo race because the weekend that my team ran was the same weekend that I went on the retreat to Pennsylvania with my kids. Now I know that just last week I wrote AROO! and talked about how much I enjoyed being part of a team, but I got a lot out of going it alone too. Here is what I learned:
I need to buy a backpack! As I always do, I packed all my stuff for the race in my pink duffle bag…shoes, socks, food, water, gatorade, towel, change of clothes for after race, wallet, cell phone…which makes the bag pretty heavy and cumbersome. When I arrived at the race, about an hour away, I immediately had to use the bathroom, which meant that I had to use a port-a-potty. As soon as I saw the line grouped in pairs, I immediately missed my team because without someone with me, I realized that I had to bring this big duffle bag with me into the potty. As I open the door to the sun beaten port-a-potty, I was immediately hit by a wall of hot raw sewage from all of the either well-caffeinated or nervous Spartans that were in this bathroom before me. I hold my breathe and go in. Once in, I decided that it would be best to put my bag across my body and have it hanging in front of me, as the only other option was on my feet and the wet floor. As I “hover” over the seat, I hit my head on the door because the bag is pulling me down and the room is so small, so I quickly decided that it would be best to turn my head to the side. Problem with that is my face is now in the plastic moulded urinal (why are these even necessary?), my mouth is closer to a urinal cake than I care to admit, and apparently I didn’t gauge my hover distance carefully enough so now I have pee running down the back of my leg (I guess that explains the wet floor). Getting my pants back up took about as long as it takes to pull up a wet bathing suit, getting my pride back is taking a bit longer. I used to think the more seasoned Spartans carried backpacks because they were more efficient packers, now I know the real reason.
Men are SO easy…Going into this race I also needed to have a strategy for the obstacles that I knew I couldn’t do without help from a stranger, like jumping over the hurdles, climbing over the 8 foot wall, and scaling over the inverted wall. Before the race, my coach told me to scope out the tallest man that I could and ask for help. This is the part that gave me the most anxiety because I hate asking for help, especially from a stranger, because it makes me feel vulnerable and weak. But interestingly enough, once I got out there and got in the zone, I got over it and had no trouble batting my mud-coated eyelashes at any man, short or tall, to help me over those walls. And with the testosterone rush the men were on, they played right into my strategy and pushed my butt over those walls without hesitation. “Thanks, see you at the finish!” I would yell as I took off into the woods. It wasn’t a proud moment for me, but I can get pretty competitive and I had a time goal in mind. If I had to do the 30 burpees (penalty for not successfully completed an obstacle), I definitely wouldn’t have been able to make it…and my time in the port-a-potty had already bruised my ego, so asking a stranger for help was nothing. So ladies, I guess it’s not so hard to get men to help, just lather yourself up in some mud first and maybe let them touch your butt along the way – works like a charm! Hmmm…in hindsight, that’s either the best advice I have ever given or the worst advice I have ever given.
It’s all in my head…When racing with a team, I find that I automatically default to a “team” mentality. Which means that I always ask for help from a teammate, even on obstacles that I might actually be able to do myself. Like the 5 foot wall that they make you go over just to get to the start line (btw, that’s just mean!). I know that my propensity to rely on my teammates stems from my fear of failure, or maybe more accurately, fear of other people seeing me fail. But since I was going it alone this time around, I prepared myself to fully commit to at least attempt these obstacles before asking a stranger for help. I figured, why not? It’s not like I knew anyone there. If I failed an obstacle, I was the only one who would know…well me and anyone else that was in the “Burpee Zone” area. But no one is just watching me or cares just about me in this race or is tracking my failures so that they can use them against me later. What I am learning more and more is that most people are way more concerned about themselves, and less concerned about me, which is such a freeing feeling. Acknowledging that I was there to challenge myself, and not to worry about what others think about me, allowed me to relax my brain and just get into the zone. By taking that power away from others (which they didn’t even know they had) and channeling it to me and my race, I was way more successful and I couldn’t be more proud of myself. Yes, I am proud of my results (hit my goal time – literally on the dot!), but I am more proud of myself for getting out of my head and just allowing myself to make it about ME.
So would I go it alone again? Not sure yet. But I do know that I certainly built a lot of confidence and character that I will carry around with me for awhile…maybe I’ll put it in my new backpack.