I did it! (my journey through Tough Mudder)

It's Sunday evening and I'm sitting on my couch with a glass of wine taking in an amazing experience. First and foremost:

• Major props to my teammate Matt. He kept me going when my legs were ready to quit and made sure I made it over all the walls. He was a total rockstar and the best teammate a friend could ask for. 
• HUGE thank you to my parents and Josh for coming out to support me. I can't tell you how much it means knowing that you have people there to cheer you on and waiting for you throughout the course. It makes such a difference. 
• And of course, thank you to everyone that has read my journey and sent me messages. This was the most insane thing I've ever done and I was thrilled to share it with all of you. 

So, without further ado, here's a photo heavy recap of my Tough Mudder race (in case, you know, you get the urge to do one of these in the future). All the photos were taken by Josh, Amy or are from Tough Mudder's official Facebook page that posted pics of the Twin Cities event:


Starting Line
Matt and ventured down to the starting line, ready to rock and roll. You have to climb over an eight foot wall just to get to the starting line; lovingly called the "point of no return." They give you a pep talk, sing the national anthem and you're off on a half mile run to the first obstacle. 


Obstacle: Arctic Enema
Lucky for us, they filled a fresh pool with ice just we got to the front of the line. Even though the temperature outside was close to 90 degrees, they keep these containers at a balmy 40 degrees. Matt and I jumped in rather than sliding in (a definite MUST) and holy hell, it was like my body went into shock. You surface to gasp for air and then go back under the wall to get to the other side. Then we used all our strength to haul ourselves out and start running to the next obstacle. 

Obstacle: Underground Tunnels
After running for another half a mile or so we get to the underground tunnels. Dark, full of drops and weird terrain, it was a slog through tons and tons of mud. Luckily for me, I'm really small so I could crawl easily to the other side. 

Obstacle: Mud (in general)
Nearly lost my shoes in the mud rivers. They were so sticky and literally sucked the shoes off people. It was so slippery and just trying to keep your footing without twisting an ankle was challenging enough. Loved that here, my mom was shouting "Go to the left!" When I replied "thanks Mom" everyone around me starting laughing and saying "my mom would be telling me the same thing. 

Matt and me going through all the mud!

Obstacle: Running
Note to veteran marathoners, this is NOT a running course. This is sheer evil in the form of hills and uneven terrain. The course itself was 11.7 miles; just shy of a half marathon. But he amount of non-stop hills on this course was brutal. Weaving in and out of trees and never equal footing, my hip flexors were on fire by mile 7. Today, that's what hurts the most. 

Obstacle: Mud Mile
A course of minor mud hills and pits of water. Sounds easy, but after a few hours of people climbing their way up and down, those things are completely flattened with no footholds or grooves to grip. Granted, it was fun sitting on your ass and sliding down into the pool of muddy water, but then hoisting yourself up another embankment was exhausting. 

Obstacle: The Rings/Monkey Bars
Easily my WORST two events. Not like I had massive amounts of upper body strength to begin with, but after being tired, it just wasn't happening. I was awesome and fell into the water on both almost immediately. Better luck next time. 

Obstacle: Cargo Net
Not your fifth grade gym class cargo net. No cushy blue mats below and this one is covered in so much mud, it makes it slippery. 

Obstacle. More running, more hills
I seriously cannot stress how many freakin' hills were on this course. Each time you'd get to the top of one, another one would be staring you in the face.  

Obstacle: Berlin Walls
There were two sets of Berlin Walls. Both between 8 and ten feet tall. The great thing about this event is the amount of teamwork you see. Perfect strangers risking life and limb to help fellow mudders up and over the walls. Stepping on people's thighs, hands and shoulders to get to the other side. I was really nervous since I'm slightly afraid of heights. Both sets of walls, I got lots of help from Matt and other competitors. We arrived a few minutes after some poor guy fell and broke his leg on this obstacle. You sign a waiver that you risk serious injury, even death, on this course. 

Matt helping me up the Berlin Wall!

Obstacle: Electric Eel
Call my crazy, but this was one of the most fun obstacles. Face deep in muddy water and crawling like your life depends on it trying to dodge barbed wire and live electrical wires less than four inches above your head. About halfway through, the guy in charge of the electrical voltage said he would turn it off for ten seconds. Trust me, I've never moved faster in my life than those ten seconds. 

Obstacle: The Log Run
I know you're all curious to know how my training helped me for this. Well, at least I knew how to position the log on my shoulders. After every other thing I had been through that day, carrying a 25 pound stump a mile up and down hill seemed like a piece of cake. 

Obstacle: Everest
Matt and I are on the home stretch, with less than three miles left. We're tired and my legs are shaking. Matt goes up the hill first, missing on his first attempt after hearing his name called out (it was his adorable girlfriend, Amy). But he did it the second time with ease. Me on the other hand, had troubles. My legs could move fast enough up that incline and I fell twice (or maybe three times, I don't even remember) before finally being pulled over the top. It's probably the reason I've got bruises, cuts and gashes all over my legs today. 

Making my way up Everest

Obstacle: Twinkle Toes
Worst part of the course and not because of the obstacle. The bottleneck here was ridiculous. We waited close to 25 minutes in line just to climb the ladder and get up there. You're fine for about three minutes and then the adrenaline wears off and you start cramping up. Bad. People are trying to stretch, jump, anything just to stay loose. Oh, and those planks across the pool? They're 2x4's and the skinny side is up, wobbly and full of water and mud. Matt and I both made it across with our superb balancing skills.  

Obstacle: Walk The Plank
Overall, to me, this was the worst one. We climbed onto the platform and then you realize that this 20 foot jump into murky water is a LOT farther up than it looked on the ground. You have maybe three seconds before the guy tells you to jump and where. I will never, ever forget my feet leaving the platform and thinking, "Holy shit, when am I going to actually HIT the water?" I remember plunging into complete darkness, and scrambling to get myself to the surface. I have never been so thankful to be gulping and choking for air than when I was swimming to the shore. Only later would I learn that several people got to the top of the platform and climb back down.

Jumping off the platform!

Last Obstacle: Shocker
Of course, being Tough Mudder, the last obstacle before the finish line is the Shocker. 20 yards of live wires and hay bales just to make it harder to run through, trying to dodge 1,000 volt shocks that knock your ass to the ground. Again, I managed to miss every single wire which was probably a good thing because I don't know if I could have gotten back up at that point. 

FINISHED!!!
Matt and I ran through the finish line, hand in hand. Final time: roughly three and a half hours to complete the nearly 12 mile course. Not too shabby for our first time. I can honestly say, I've never been so thankful to be done with anything in my life. And I've also never been prouder of myself. I set out to do something crazy before turning 30 and I did it!

Tough Mudder 2012

 

Home Stretch (aka: Holy Crap!!)

I'm sitting on my couch chugging gallons of watered down Gatorade and consuming enough carbohydrates to fuel the mens Olympic swim team. Today was my final hard-core training workout before the race on Saturday. Over five miles of hills, sprints and a few random sets of push-ups just in case my body didn't hate me enough already. In addition to icing my knee and taking advil, my current predicament involves my ass.

Somehow I pulled the muscle in my ass (feel free to laugh anytime). I've concluded that there are no easy, direct ways to stretch out this lovely muscle that ya know, MIGHT be helpful while propelling myself through mud across pits of flaming hay bales.

But (no pun intended) other than that, I think I'm prepared as I can be. I'm bringing all the necessary supplies one would need when attempting something this ridiculous:

Goggles- I'm blind and cannot afford to lose one of my contacts in the water obstacles. What's really funny is that I had to buy the "junior" size goggles because the adult sizes are too large for my face.

Gloves- in addition to my midget face, I also have midget hands which made it almost impossible to find gloves that don't look like oven mitts on my tiny paws. My hands seriously have not grown since fifth grade.

Tums- call my crazy, but I'm convinced 2-3 of these before a run will prevent my insides from exploding halfway through the course and spilling down my leg. If you don't think that this actually happens, I challenge you to sit at the finish line of a marathon. Two years I volunteered at the Twin Cities marathon, assisting runners in their quest to cross the finish line. And in those eight hours, I saw more bodily fluids spill onto the pavement of St. Paul than most med students see their entire residency.

Duct Tape- After reading several blogs and columns written by former Tough Mudder participants, this seems to be a good investment. My neon-green adhesive will be strategically wrapped to secure my sneakers to my feet. Apparently, the mud gets so thick that people have lost their shoes in the mess. I don't know about you, but I have no desire to run rocky, uneven terrain in my Hanes Her Way crew socks.

A change of clothes- After the race, I'm expecting to be hosed down like a scientist potentially exposed to a biologically enhanced strain of the plague. If the clothes are not completely destroyed from the mud, fire and barbed wire covering the course, my shoes will MOST DEFINITELY be retired on Saturday.


A cheering gallery- and last, but not least, I'm bringing a cheering section. I spent six months convincing my mother that I would not die or get seriously injured while competing. Even now, I've had to promise that if I get injured, I will swallow my pride and NOT feel compelled to finish the course. So she'll be heading to Somerset to see me race, along with my awesome dad and ever-supportive husband. They'll be taking plenty of pictures to document this monumental achievement.

And finally, thank you to everyone that has read a post and made comments to cheer me on. I know I wasn't the best blogger with the most posts, but they were honest and I loved seeing that people took the time to read all my ramblings. I'll be posting pictures and a recap of my adventure on Sunday so stay tuned!!

Me vs. The Tree Stump

With less than two months away from Tough Mudder, my workouts have changed to include tasks that simulate actual obstacles on the course. Last Sunday, I ran a hill. Ten times. And not just any hill, I mean, this hill would be classified as the black diamond of hills at some mediocre ski resort. It kicked my ass nine times (the first attempt was the only time I didn't feel like my legs and lungs would explode on the last step). 


So today, during my five mile run, I decided to simulate "Hold Your Wood." It involves picking up a log anywhere from 15 - 30 pounds and hiking with it for close to a mile. So there I am, in suburban St. Louis Park digging around this park for a log. My first attempt turned out to be a nest for some weird insects to which I screamed and darted the other direction. And then, like a golden halo of light, I saw it. A tree stump. 

Without exaggeration, it was a little over a foot in diameter and weighed about 20 pounds. "Perfect" I thought. So I bent down, hoisted it onto my shoulder and began my mile hike back home. There were several things wrong with this entire scenario:

1. The stump was too big for my pathetically narrow shoulders. There was no good way to balance or carry it without leaning to one side. This made me look like one leg was significantly shorter than the other as I trekked up the hill.


2. My mile hike involved a good quarter-mile slog on the frontage road alongside highway 100. It is a VERY BUSY frontage road. I can only imagine the conversations inside each car as they approached me, dragging this HUGE TREE STUMP along a frontage road in my bright pink under armour shirt marching crookedly like a pirate with a wooden leg.


3. Tree stumps are not smooth. In fact, when they are covered in burrs and dirt and pine needle thingys, they are quite sharp. As I hauled my trophy up the frontage road, the damn thing kept shifting on my teeny-tiny shoulders. As a result, it looks like a mountain lion got a hold of my neck and used it as an emery board.


What could make this story even better, you ask? Josh and I are attending a Mad Men premiere party tonight where I have to wear a dress that does not cover my "mauling by tree stump" injuries. And I'm going with a co-worker who will no doubt ask why I'm covered in scratches. 

So here I am on the couch, writing this post and rubbing first aid ointment patches all over my neck to prevent infection and hope the redness goes down in the next two hours.

After Every Meal

It's been almost a month since I hopped onto Josh's diet wagon and, overall things are going great. I've been sticking to our dinner plans, eating lots of veggies and staying away from processed foods as much as possible. In fact, I was so excited about my progress that I bragged to Josh that I had cut back dessert to once a day.

Me: "And I didn't have dessert tonight because I had a cookie for lunch today."
Josh: "Wait. How often do you NORMALLY have dessert?"
Me: "After every meal except breakfast, like most people. But sometimes I have it after breakfast too."
Josh: "Seriously?!"
Me: "Yes. Why? How often are people supposed to have dessert?"
Josh: "Um, like maybe 3 times a week."
Me: "What?!"

Thus began a heated debate over the acceptable instances of dessert in a normal eating plan. Now, would I love to have a piece of chocolate cake or ice cream sundae after every meal? Yes- that would be awesome. Do I? No. Dessert is anything from a small handful of fruitsnacks to cocoa roasted almonds to a bite-size snicker bar.

But Josh argues that it's not about dessert per se, it's about my sugar intake. All those little sugar grams add up and that's what gets people into trouble. He blurts out "If you want to lose five pounds for this race, you can't have dessert after EVERY meal, Ashley."

In normal Ashley fashion, I cross my arms and start walking faster in a huff. It's not fair. I'm fighting with feelings and he's fighting with facts. Clearly, it's an injustice and he is wrong.

We didn't come to an agreement. But he did offer to make "Ms. Trunchbull's Chocolate Cake" from my favorite book, Matilda, as a peace offering. I happily obliged- but we'll save it until AFTER the race.

Recruiting Time

Ok people, we need you on our team. Right now, it's just me and Matt. While Matt and I are like, totally awesome and stuff, it will be a better event if we have a team of at least 5 people in May. I thought about all the ways I could motivate people to join our team. Bribes. Threats. And then I saw some pictures from the Southern California event yesterday and there it was: dinosaurs.

If you want the chance to see DINOSAURS, you will join our team.

Progress: more miles, detox diet and a glimpse of things to come.

Hey Everyone,
If you are reading this, kudos to you. By now, I'm sure most of my friends thought I either (a) hadn't worked out since January or (b) quite this journey entirely. The truth is more positive than I could have imagined since my last post:


Despite SEVERAL trips to various cities in Minnesota (including Moorhead and Austin), I managed to get workouts in at the pathetic Holiday Inn fitness room. Despite the carpeted walls and only one tv to share with the lady barely pedaling the recumbent bike and forcing my eyes to witness Lifetime television, I stuck with it. Hell, I even missed one morning and went on a run over my lunch hour to fit it in. When I started, a two mile run on the treadmill was pretty painful and exhausting. As of Saturday, I'm up to 4.5 miles with a speed of 9:50 per mile. Only 3.5 miles to go until I reach my goal of being able to run 8 miles non-stop.

Despite progress, pretty sure I still look like this on the treadmill.

I'm making SLOW progress on weight training. Even though I hate it, I force myself to do pull-ups at the gym. Granted, it's on one of those machines that you rest your knees on and helps you, but hey, I'm still proud. I've been TERRIBLE about going to the gym to use the weight machines in the morning, so I've been punishing myself with push-ups, triceps dips and burpees in the living room after work three days a week. I'll be honest: I haven't worked out every day I said I would. But each week, I work out more days than I don't and that's something to be proud of.


Josh did a detox last week. I did not. It involved lots of protein powder, raw vegetables and fruit. In an effort to show solidarity and support, I cooked up a huge batch of vegetable soup for him to eat that week (and then noshed on Noodles, stuffed peppers and Doritos in front of him). I'm really proud of him (I say that with complete sincerity) and he has inspired me to freshen up my diet to make sure my organs don't give up on me on mile 5 of Tough Mudder. Nothing too drastic, just more eggs, protein powder fruit smoothies and learning to love quinoa. 

Making this tonight: Broccoli-Quinoa Pilaf!

Finally, I'm really REALLY excited about this race. I know that I'm probably going to curse myself the entire ten miles but I know that it will be a huge accomplishment. As such, I've posted pictures from some of the Tough Mudder events that have taken place over the last few weeks in warmer parts of the country. Cheers to braving the things to come!

And for fun, I saw this post and couldn't help but enjoy the sarcasm. She's bleeding from her forehead and someone asked what happened in the comment section.

Reply: "There's a spot where they hit you in the face with a board with a nail sticking out."

How Marching Band and a Math Book Haunt Me Ten Years Later

I know. This post sounds like the worst horror movie title in the history of the world. But it is a true story. How a simple marching band practice and algebra II textbook continue to affect me over a decade later. 

It all started in early fall my senior year in high school. I was super awesome and belonged to an elite organization known as the Eastview High School Marching Band (yes, there is a heavy dose of sarcasm in this comment but, in truth, I enjoyed every toe-roll and horn move). On a blustery Thursday evening, we were ending rehearsal out on the parking lot and everyone was ready to go home. After standing at attention for several minutes, we were released by the director and headed to the grass to quickly pick up our instrument cases and books before the night sprinklers came on. Hugging my saxophone against my side, I awkwardly leaned over to pick up my math textbook and BAM, my knee gave out. 


Like many teenagers, I didn't want to draw additional attention to myself and admit I was injured. Hell, half my leg could be missing and I probably would have tried to limp inside hoping nobody would notice. It wasn't until I got home and removed my faded, worn out jeans that I noticed my knee-cap was now clearly on the side of my leg. After the obligatory scream and gagging at the sight of my mangled joint, my mom and I covered it with ice and hoped it would go away. 


The next morning, I could no longer see my knee. In fact, the swelling was SO bad, that it appeared as though a grapefruit had been implanted into the center of my leg, leaving the area purple and ungodly puffy. At the hospital, I was having a minor meltdown. I had even begun accepting the fact the doctor would probably amputate my entire leg when he came in, nudged my patella back in place and put a giant velcro cast around my leg.  After looking at the x-ray he said my patellas (knee caps) were actually abnormally small compared to the other bones in my leg. In fact, they would continue to shift without therapy. He handed my mother a business card to a local rehab facility and told her to make me weekly appointments for the next two months. 


Thus began my frequent visits to the Athletic Institute in Apple Valley. I couldn't drive with my leg all messed up, so my mom would pick me up in our mini-van and drive me to the center over lunch. There, I would sit with ACTUAL athletes while we performed various exercises and stretches. As you can see, my "cool" factor was already on hyper drive with my mom and the mini-van thing, so you can only imagine the reactions of other kids when they asked about my injury. I thought about lying, telling them I played a real sport. But in the end, I would shrug and say "well, it happened in marching band." Nobody asked questions after that.


Most afternoons, I would sit with one of the countless football players as the aides attached electroshock pads on our legs. Attached to the pads was a small box where we could control the electrical output. The shocks helped weaker muscles grow faster and, in turn, helped us get back into fighting shape. This might have been effective had we not exchanged control boxes and spent the 25 minutes seeing how bad we could shock each other. Needless to say, in the end, I came out with my left leg healed but extremely twitchy

This lovely story brings me to today. I did double workouts today and even got in a run outdoors. No matter how often I do my exercises or how hard I work, I can still feel that patella bobbing about ever so slightly in my leg. I've tried everything from knee-braces to those thingys you wrap around your leg right below your knee cap. Nothing keeps it in place. I'm in constant fear that I will hit the ground just a little bit off and wham, I'll be back in that cast. 


So in exchange for my self-deprecating story, I'm hoping I have some actual athlete readers who can offer some advice. Is there anything out there that will keep my pretty patella in one place? Is there another exercise or magical device to keep my leg in working order? Any advice is much appreciated.