Leading up to the Spartan race, roughly 1 week out I had not booked a hotel, nor really took into consideration the things I needed to do leading up to the race. I had the prerace jitters all week before, but by this time, they had gone away and I was left with a feeling of mostly regret. Regret for not putting in the time I felt that was needed to do really well, the regret of having to do it alone, and the regret of really worrying so much for an event that was something I was used to.
The morning of the race I was up at 3:30am, earliest I have ever been up for a race. The anxiety crept in throughout the night and I finally said forget it and just deal with it later. I decided the night before the outfit: long Under Amor pants, ranger panties, long dry wicking shirt, and a short sleeve on top. The morning was going to be cold, I had practiced this set up many times over and I was used to the outfit. After my normal breakfast of oatmeal and coffee I headed to the venue.
It was still dark, but the sun was starting to rise. The first stop was my drop bin. I went back over everything in my bin to make sure and double check all my food and drinks before the race. I have done this for every Spartan ultra, it is how I relax before the race. The quiet anxiety of the bin area was palpable, all the ultras were finalizing their plans for the race, talking to other races, some silly laughs, but the most the most part it was like a battalion of soldiers getting ready for their first war. Finished packing my bag, double checked my headlamp and batteries and started to mull through the event area. My race time was 6:30 so I had to finish my race preparation and I headed over to the start.
For the next forty-five minutes I was uneventful. Self-doubt crept in again, I checked my bag and rechecked my bag to help myself forget it. 6:30 open wave was packed to the brim. I was close to the front with some older guys I had talked to…normal Spartan race opener. Aroo Aroo Aroo GOOOOOOOO. Heart race blew up, I felt it and giggled to myself. I had missed that feeling of a Spartan Race opener. I said so long to the guys in my wave and took off running. The first full mile was 1000ft of elevation gain (data from fellow Spartan), the second most direct elevation gain in the beginning of a race I have ever run. The first few obstacles were normal climbs over hay and walls. Nothing new, yet. There was little space for running, basically none for the first 8 miles. I completed every obstacle, hill, climb, you name it I was having a great time. Until the bucket brigade and after. I had finally felt like I needed some food and water. It was right after my cliff bar that I realized I had really messed up.
Throughout the entire first half of the race I had forgotten two things, nutrition I would need to continue through the race, and time. Mistakenly, I had chosen to not wear my watch. It was at mile 8 when we were going on our Ultra loop through the woods. I had no sense of time nor had I done what I had practiced which was eating every 3-5 miles. In a Spartan race that could be every 3 hours or 4. I had practiced eating roughly 200 calories every 3 miles, so basically I was already in the hole for 600 cals. As soon as I ate, I felt the hunger. The ultra-loop awaited me and no one knew what to expect. Now, I was chasing my time and chasing my calories.
What was seemingly a 5k of woods running, turned into the hell that was an Ultra Spartan loop. Literally, hell. I am pretty sure no one expected it because this is where I passed a lot of Spartans in the start times before mine. I tried to spent most of this time out of my head and into my stomach. I ate…I ate too much…I continued to just catch up. The obstacles that were in this area were pretty simple obstacles, but at my malnutrition state I had a tough time. I think the worst part of this loop was the feeling that we never went down, only up, and the time we had going down was full of sticks and rocks so we couldn’t really open up our strides. I missed that from the years I had done prior. After we were at the bottom of the mountain, we then had to go all the way back up. It felt like 5 miles of going up a hill, it was brutal. (If you are reading this and pushed through this part, do you agree? It was Brutal!)
Coming out of that loop and seeing the memory wall was actually a welcomed sight. I memorized my number echo-739-2295 and kept on. Finally, a small area of running. As I was running down this short distance I kept repeating my number over and over again so I wouldn’t forget it. The spear throw was next, they added something I had never come across before, a penalty loop. I loved it. Spartan was always about the burpees, this was a welcomed penalty for two of the obstacles.
The worst was about to come, if the ultra-loop was brutal then the sandbag was pure torture. The midday sun was directly over our heads and the loop seemed like .5 mile down and .5 mile up. The anguish on the Spartan’s faces was actually just sad. The amount of hiking with a 65 or 75lb bag was tough. At first I was with them, I received my “baby” from another guy, which appeared he had smothered it with mud and then passed it off. The cold mud was dripped down my neck and there is almost nothing worse to me then that feeling. It was about half way down the slope I started to think of my rucking friend and realized I can split this bag on my shoulders and half the weight on each. From that point on; one foot, two foot one foot, two foot. I didn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop, if I did, I was going to have to sit and that wasn’t an option. I tossed the bag down in the box and sweat dripping down my face, continued the hike up the mountain.
It was mile 11 on the beast course and mile 14 on the ultra-course that I realized something or through I realized something. I couldn’t go any farther. I was miserable, I wasn’t having fun, and I was so far gone with my nutrition that I had to DNF because I was going to literally die. I only had a bout a sip or two left in my camelback and I had three more obstacles that would take the rest of the energy out of me. I kept saying to myself; you weren’t ready for this, you should have gone slower and kept eating, this isn’t your first ultra what happened to you, you prepped for a slower more methodically race, and you are and ultra-racer that has let down his family. The mind games were real, I even made up a story to tell my wife about being pulled for time. That it was just too hard for me.
It was weird, I had cosigned and agreement with the devil that said I was done and my body broke right through a small wall and joy crept back in. I was almost finished the one lap and I was happy with that, I wouldn’t be able to finish the race anyway so I might as well enjoy my defeat with the time I have left. I laughed as I gave my memory number to the volunteers, perfectly I might add. I even had some joy in helping others do the Herc hoist and running down the mountain to the rig, failing and doing my burpees, and shimming up the rope climb, ringing that bell, and walking to my drop bin.
I finally sat down at my bin and took the top off to text my wife that I was “going out for my second lap,” but there was already a message. Honestly, the head games that were going on I hadn’t expected to see anything on my phone, but there was a message with a picture. “You got this daddy!” How could I tell them I went back out but DNF’d if I didn’t really? Was I quitter? How could I look my youngest in the face who was expecting another medal from me? I pounded my princess soup, ate my sleeve of peeps, literally cut the pants off of my body, and figured, what is the worst that could happen? Off I went.
I don’t have fun while running races usually, but the second loop was fun. I ran with a bunch of people for the entirety of the race. I actually had people to talk to, which took my mind off the race. In the end I was able to keep my nutrition and hydration on point for the second loop and finished feeling great.
A giant storm moved through with about 20 minutes left of the race, so that made all of the ultras run as fast as they could for the final 3 miles. Yes, some obstacles had to be skipped, but I did my burpees for them (the storm made it impossible to get on anything metal) A hurricane fast wind snuck up and blew through the event area. I had just enough time to grab my buckle, my buckle and head to my car. I sat down and wept a sigh of relief and realization; even though things get tough and you feel like you just want to give up, it is amazing how much just one nice thing from a loved one can change everything. Next time, I know I won’t worry what anyone else does, I shouldn’t worry about any other racers…no more slacking, run my own race, wear my friggin’ watch, and eat a lot to keep feeling good!
