Zombie Rush - October 19, 2013

So I don't know really where to begin this post. I feel as if (to a certain extent) I have peaked in my writing... having completed such a huge goal as 6 half marathons in 6 days, that talking about anything else just pales in comparison. So I drag my feet on writing, because nothing could be quite as epic a tale to tell.

I spent the adequate time off my feet like the doctor suggested and the week of October 13th, I wanted to try getting back out there and logging some extra mileage. I started small. On Oct 14, I went to the beach and walked 4 miles with my dear friend Tracey. 2 days later, I went back to the beach and logged another 5 miles.

And that was a mistake. In retrospect, while justified in getting back out there because the Dr. said to give it a try and ease back into it... I think my definition of easing back into things may be a little different than the his definition. After walking 4 miles and another 5 miles, my heel was screaming for respite once again. Back into the boot I went... for another few days of TLC.

Flash forward to the following Saturday and I was scheduled to run The Zombie Run 5K. Husband Ray and I had both gotten Groupons for this event, and we figured that even if we walked it together it would be a good day. And it was.

This race was a first time event for the promoter, and while I thought some of the logistics needed some work, it wasn't a complete disaster like I have seen other OCRs to be. I felt that some of the obstacles also needed to have been checked for exposed nails or other metal objects which might pose an impalement risk... because you know... who wants to survive the zombie apocalypse only to die of Tetanus a week later?) But for the most part I felt that the obstacles were OK (albeit they weren't over the top difficult and some of them needed to have been wider to accommodate more runners). The terrain was OK too... although we had previously participated at events at Amelia park so we weren't all that challenged in the bike trails or the dirt roads/water crossings. In terms of venue location, I am not so sure that I would pay full price for an event at this park again because it just seems like you've done one race there and nothing else will stimulate you...

But that being said, we had a good time out there with some of our friends at Karma Athletes, they helped me over a tough obstacle (a big drainage tube that was up to my neck in height), which was an accomplishment. I had to skip one obstacle because it was really high and didn't have that great of handholds for me at the top and I didn't want to hurt my foot more should I fall... and somehow we managed to finish as survivors (still having at least one flag each). This event was untimed, so I can't gauge how well I did in the time department, but that's ok, I wasn't running it for time. I was walking it for experience.... and yes, with an injury, there is a difference.

I got home that night and questioned the decisions I had made. Ultimately, it was a lot of fun, but the return of foot pain and another few days in my boot might not have been worth it. With less than a week to recover for my next half marathon (The Miami Beach Halloween Half), I didn't know if I would have enough time to recover.

Grudgingly, back into the boot I went.

Superhero Scramble- June 29, 2013

One month later, and I am still struggling to figure out how I can explain what happened that weekend at South Carolina's Superhero Scramble when we went with little Tommy Mills and his family as he fulfilled a lifelong dream of participating in an obstacle race.

Originally, Ray and I weren't sure that I would be able to go. Although we helped with the fundraisers and the events leading up to the actual race, a trip like this can pose a significant financial burden on the people attending, and we just weren't sure how to make it work. In the end though, with the help of some amazing men and women whom I met through the preparations for this trip, we were able to make it all work out.

Travel to SC was via a 16 passenger van, accommodations were a shared small cabin at the campground. It was really late by the time we got to SC, and we had to be up really early the next morning for our Hero Within-Superman Walks Project team meeting. Here we finally met the infamous Zackary Paben (AKA Nubs) from More Hearts Than Scars, and learned about all of the equipment that we would be using to help make Tommy's dream a reality.

And so... now, I sit here in the comfort of my own home, not really knowing what to say or how to say it. This was an amazing, perspective altering experience with amazing new friends whom I am certain will remain friends for a lifetime. And once again, this event wasn't just about one person providing me with inspiration to keep moving and live my life to the fullest, this was about me inspiring MYSELF to keep going, keep pushing, and keep challenging myself.

Because this is probably one of those situations that you really have to be there to fully appreciate, I think the only way to really share what this experience was about, is through sharing this video and some photos below.




This is a photo of me with George, Thomas, Laura and Tristan Mills at the start line before the race. This is an amazing family, and really, Laura was the number one reason that I wanted to be at this event. As Thomas's mother and primary caregiver, and as an incredibly strong woman who rarely asks for help, she really had not had much opportunity to give the reigns to other people. There were a few times on the course where I knew she was having some difficulty and needed a little extra support and somehow I always managed to catch her eye to help reassure her. This woman is amazing, and her husband is pretty awesome too. As a side note, Tristan had broken his foot on vacation in early June, and was in a walking boot but still managed to walk with the group. He was such a trooper.

At one point, we had to climb over a cargo net to the top of what would be 2 stacked shipping containers. from there, we had to go across the net to another set of stacked shipping containers, and down the other side. I wanted to try my hand at balancing, and went across the center beam instead of crawling over the net... and although terrified, I was able to make it. I don't tend to have a fear of heights, but something about this obstacle really did it to me. My heart was beating out of my chest, and my breathing quickened to the point of needing my inhaler. It was truly terrifying. But not so terrifying that I couldn't stop for a photo of me being Mrs. SassyPants. See? Its exactly like that scene in Dirty Dancing, but totally different.

 

Once down on the ground again, the team prepared to bring little Tommy up and over the obstacle. In previous OCRs it was discovered that pulling on the bottom of the cargo netting would take out the slack on the nets making it easier for people to come down the obstacle. While part of the team was at the top of the obstacle getting Tommy up to the top and strapping him into the sled that he would use to traverse the netting, the rest of the team sat on the ground and dug in, working together as a team to pull the nets tight.

  

And once the nets were tight and Tommy was strapped into the sled, he was lowered down the side of the obstacle. I can't even explain the emotions that were just pouring out of me at that point. To see the smile on this little boy's face and know that this smile meant that he was not allowing his disability to limit him was SO inspirational.

There were other obstacles and other terrain, and about a million stories to share... and I could share them (when I fully get my head wrapped around them myself), but I don't think I want to. I (along with dozens of other people who I am sure will now be lifetime friends), were able to experience something amazing with this little boy, and I don't want to cheapen it in any way, shape, or form.

I go back through this post, and realize that my words don't do this experience justice. This experience brought new perspective on living life to the fullest, not accepting limitations, challenging expectations, and about trust and love:

I have one more photo to share down the line, but I have to save that for future day when we could all use a little extra inspiration.

Armageddon Ambush - May 11, 2013

I wavered over what to call this post. Should I title it the way I title all of my race reports, or do I title it based on the real meaning behind the race. Because if it is the latter, the more appropriate title would be "A life changing experience," or the "race to bring it all into perspective."

Either way, that is what this post is about... both a race report, and about a life changing experience that brings it all into perspective.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the Beach Beast 5K where I met an amazing man named Thomas Mills, a man who is a below-the-knee amputee who raises awareness about the needs of amputees. Then a few days later, I wrote a bit more about Tom, and his website (Superman Walks/ RAAAN), and about his experience bringing a man named Matthew (who had lost his lower left leg in a motorcycle accident 9 months ago) to his first Mud Run, and the empowering events that took place that day.

Upon hearing about the amazing things that Tom was doing, I knew that I wanted to be involved with his work, in any way possible. I messaged Tom a lot, and eventually we made an arrangement where Ray would walk the Armageddon Ambush with the Superman Walks team, and I would walk along with them as their photographer. It turned out that Ray's sprained foot wasn't doing any better (we would find out a couple of days later it was actually broken), so he bailed on the event, but I was able to still attend.

And it was LIFE-CHANGING.

We were asked to be there at 9am to be ready to start walking at 10, but we wound up not really stepping off until the 11am wave. That allowed me some time to get to know some of the other team members and work with Felicia (Matthew's mom) in selling some bracelets to raise funds for their anticipated trip to Boston to help the victims of the Boston Marathon bombing. I don't know what the final tally was on our fundraising efforts for the day, but the donation boxes were full by the time we packed them up in the car to head out on our race.

When it was time to start the race, there were probably about 20 team-members (the group got smaller as we progressed because Karma Athletes had a fundraiser for the superman walks project at the beach to prepare for, but it was a good turn out. We took a few photos and proceeded to the start line.

This was Matthew's second OCR, and while he had participated in an OCR in the past, this one seemed a little tough on him. The terrain was rough, and the bumps caused a lot of pain in his injured knee. He may have pushed too hard with speed out of the start line, and he quickly became fatigued. His arms were sore from the work of pushing his wheelchair, and his leg hurt from the vibration of the terrain.

But as sore as he was, he impressed me every step of the way.

As you may recall, I suffered from debilitating asthma and allergies. As an adult the asthma is a bit more under control, and after 48 months of immunotherapy, my allergies are a bit more manageable. I still get winded easily (particularly when going up stairs), and I frequently get down on myself and my own abilities. Then add in the fact that somewhere along the line this year, I developed a severe issue with the fascia across the arches of my feet, and when on uneven terrain each step can be excruciating. All of this is enough for me to kick off my running shoes and say to hell with it all. no more. I JUST CAN'T DO THIS.

But then to see the way that Matthew handles himself. It floors me. There are so many things that I can say about this event. I could tell you about terrain or the obstacles. I could tell you about the water crossings or the powder packs. I could tell you about the fact that this group quickly adopted an attitude of only going to fast as the slowest person. I could tell you about the amazing people that I met and had the opportunity to both laugh and cry with. I could tell you about the jokes or the water and mud fights. There is just so much to say.

But I wont do any of that. Because, no matter what I say, this was one of those things that you kind of had to be there to fully understand. So instead, I will tell two stories, and share some photos. 

The first story is about Matthew (and yes, I have asked if it would be OK to share this) and what happened when we reached an uneven balance beam obstacle... At first Matthew didn't know the best way to approach this obstacle. He was already in severe amounts of pain, and already feeling a bit drained physically and emotionally, and could not readily come up with a method of tacking this obstacle. He sat on the balance beam and scooted his butt across the beam, but quickly became frustrated saying that it was all pointless. He recognized that he wasn't doing the beam like it had been designed, and he was getting down on himself. When I asked what the problem was, he looked me dead in the eye and said this was something he could have done a year ago, and he wasn't going to do it like this. 

Before reaching the quarter of the way mark, Matthew stood up and asked for his chair. He was quitting the obstacle. I've been there. I understood the frustration and the feeling as if people were watching me struggle with an obstacle and fail. I've quit obstacles and felt angry with myself later for quitting so easily. The thought of Matthew quitting an obstacle without fully attempting it broke my heart.

I asked to speak with him privately and told him that I've struggled a lot with limitations in my life. But Amy, you don't know what it is like to lose your leg. As much as hearing him say that to me stung, he was right.

I DON'T know what it is like. And *thank God* for that. It absolutely sucks that anyone has to know what it is like to lose their leg, and it sounds callous, but thankfully it was someone else other than me. I am NOWHERE near strong enough to handle something like that. Thankfully, I don't have to know what it is like to lose a limb, and hopefully I never have to experience that, but we each have our proverbial crosses to bear.

We each have limitations. I have mine, and for years I allowed myself to be defined by my limitations (and I even sunk so low as to define myself by my limitations). At some point though, we have to step up and say enough is enough. I will not be defined by what I *can't* do. I will only be defined by what I *CAN* do.

I told Matthew all of this. And perhaps my delivery wasn't that great. Perhaps I came across as meaner than I had intended, and the next few days I felt awful for how I said what I did, but the truth is... I needed Matthew to try the obstacles to the best of his ability. I needed inspiration to get me through the obstacles that I am sure to face throughout the rest of my life. I needed to see someone else overcome diversity. I needed that extra boost for the next time I get down on myself.

Because somewhere deep inside, I realize that if anyone deserves the right to wallow in self-pity or to get down on themselves, it is someone who has experienced something so life-altering as unexpected limb loss. I'm not saying that he should do those things, but rather that I would understand if he did. I told him all of this, and more. And in the end, he agreed to give it another shot with the support of a couple of the men on the team. And we cheered. We cheered like we had never cheered before. And Matthew did it. And the smile on his face at the end, and seeing how empowered he had become by having given it another shot made it all worth it.

The second story is about me. The next obstacle on the course (after the balance beam) was a half pipe ramp that we were supposed to get a running start on and pull ourselves to the top of. I have seen this at events before... and knew that I would never be able to accomplish something like this for a plethora of reasons. I have problems with breathing when sprinting (something needed to overcome this obstacle), I seriously lack the upper body strength to pull myself requiring that someone help me, I am so self-conscious about my weight that I worry that people at the top of the ramp wont be able to pull me to the top if I need help, and lets not forget that dang foot pain.

Thomas knew that I had some significant reservations about this obstacle... and he insisted that everyone (read: EVERYONE) have the opportunity to overcome this obstacle.

And coming off of the inspirational high from witnessing Matthew overcome the balance beam, I was ready to give this ramp a try. Tom and Matthew's father lay on the platform and everyone else gathered around for encouragement, as I raced toward the ramp and began the incline. I felt that I was going to come up short and everything happened in slow motion. I gave one final push with my legs and my fingertips grazed Tom's. I thought for sure I was going to fall.

Yes, that's me!

But I felt hands close around my wrists and I realized my feet were still underneath me. Using them to help stabilize me, I pulled myself to the top, and did something I thought was never possible.

It sounds like such a small thing at the end of this post about people who are stronger than me and who overcome things I hope to never be faced with, but I cannot explain how amazing it was to go to this event expecting to help empower someone else to overcome life's challenges, and realize that I have been encouraged and empowered to step out of my own comfort zone just the same.

Ray and I are not new to obstacle races as we have done a few by now, but we are definitely no experts. Ray continues to want to do this type of event, while me, I am not sure that my feet can handle the uneven ground... I actually told Ray after the Beach Beast event that I was finished with OCRs altogether... but as long as there is a place for me on the Superman Walks Project team, I'll be there with bells on.

There is just something so amazing about being involved in something so much larger than ourselves. I am proud to have participated in this event and am thankful for the new friendships I have made. I look forward to next time.

If my readers don't quite understand how life altering this event was, I would encourage them to join me on the next event that I attend with the Superman Walks Project team. That way, you can see for yourself!

Go ahead. Join us. I dare you.

Superman Walks

I want to take a quick minute to talk to you all about one of the most inspirational men that I have yet to meet. I officially met Thomas Mills at the Beach Beast in Ft. Lauderdale where he was dressed as Superman, but I immediately recognized him as a man dressed in a gold stretchy body suit and competing with Karma Athletes and who deeply inspired me when we participated in the Warrior Dash last November.

Me with Thomas at Beach Beast

According to their website, Karma Athletes is a group of hard working athletes committed to creating positive change in their local community. Karma has a great presence in the local obstacle racing scene, and though I do find them to be somewhat intimidating (because they all appear to be WAY more physically fit than me, way more attractive than me, way more capable than me, and because they all seem to know previously established relationships with one another), they are an incredibly inspirational group.

But then, there is Thomas. Thomas still participated in obstacle races as a member of their team, but it has become clear that members of Karma Athletes are also now members of his team as well. 

Thomas is the founder of a project called Superman Walks/ RAAN, where "RAAN" stands for "raising awareness of amputees needs." As a man who lost his lower leg 9 years ago after a horrible road accident, Thomas knows the special needs of amputees all too well. In the short time that I have known and talked with this amazing man, I have learned a lot about the physical needs of amputees, such as funding and obtaining appropriately fitting prostheses, and the reasons that many amputees wind up with ill-fitting or poor quality devices.

But what I have also learned first hand is the importance of the emotional and mental needs of amputees.

And I think that is probably what makes Thomas the most inspirational. Having lost his leg through traumatic circumstances, the grieving process was not easy for him. He struggled with a deep depression, began to lose so much weight he was wasting away, and contemplating ending his life. From the basic research I've done, this is not an uncommon scenario. He felt as if, by losing his leg, he life was over. He struggled with regaining some sense of normalcy, and a return of control over his own body and his own life.I don't know how he came to participating in obstacle races, or how the Superman Walks project came to fruition, but what I do know is that to hear of how desperate he was in the beginning to find meaning (ANY meaning) in his life, and to see how desperate he now is to encourage and inspire others to overcome obstacles and challenges so they can CREATE meaning, THAT is breath-taking.

Sometimes, in this crazy hectic life, it is easy to classify humanity as deteriorating and people becoming more and more hardened and mean. This has been true for me lately in the wake of the Boston Marathon Bombings. And yet, here is this guy who has done something that really just feels like warm rays of sun shining down in the eye of a hurricane.

Recently, Thomas did 2 amazing things that should have never surprised me, but did.

1) Thomas decided that in the wake of the Boston Bombings that he could help the young men and women who were injured in the attacks. Knowing that sometimes amputees have difficulty opening up to non-amputees about their emotional well-being and their fears and concerns... Thomas recognized that he could help some of these people to process their new circumstances. Thomas is still in the early planning stages of this trip, has secured some housing and transport while in Boston, but is still trying to secure the funding needed for this kind of time away. I wish him nothing but success. For more info please visit the Superman Walks/RAAN facebook page, or visit the donations section of his website.

2) This past weekend Superman Thomas attended the Superhero Scramble in Georgia and invited along a team of superhero sidekicks to assist recent amputee Matthew Pizzuto with participating in his first obstacle race/mud run. Matthew, a young man who lost his lower leg less than a year ago had yet to receive his first prosthetic, and was forced to travel much of this course in wheelchair and with crutches. Unbeknownst to Matthew, his family was able to witness the birth of a much stronger, much more empowered Matthew, and was awaiting his arrival at the finish line. I don't want to share too much of this story, because it is not mine to share, however I have to say that hearing about how strong, and how fearless Matthew was during this race... I'm impressed.

Thomas and one of his superhero sidekicks with Matthew Pizzuto

As someone who knows first hand what it like to be limited by disability and medical issues, to hear of someone else overcoming obstacles and helping others to overcome obstacles is spiritually uplifting.

Ray and I are joining Thomas's badass superhero sidekicks team for a mud run in a couple weeks, and I can't be more excited. I really look forward to being something so big and something so great.

Matthew, if you are reading this... you are awesome! And totally badass. I can't wait to finally meet you!


Edited to add... Thomas just sent me a video of Matthew's amazing transformation. you need to watch this.

Beach Beast 5K - April 6, 2013

Around Christmas, before I found out how much I preferred the half marathon distance for my races, I was hearing about some friends out in the Tampa area who completed a 5K obstacle race on the beach. The first ever Beach Beast was so successful that the promoters decided to bring the event to Ft. Lauderdale in April. When they began to advertise for the Ft. Lauderdale event, they offered a rock bottom low price of $25/person plus an additional 10% off for a team of 2 or more. 

We figured, for that price, even if the event was a flop, we really didn't have much to lose.

We were signed up for the second wave (the first being reserved for the elite runners), but because we were only given our bibs and not our timing chips during the packet pickup, we were told that we needed to be at the beach at 7:00 am. Little did we know that we only had to be there that early if we were working the event, setting up the obstacles, giving out packets, etc... and not running it. 

So like idiots, we were at the race at 6:30 (because I have a serious tardiness issue and for races always plan to be there WAY earlier than I need to be), which was well before the sun even came up. And of course, it was one of those really rare frigid mornings on the beach where you could see your breath and your teeth couldn't stop chattering. 

On the plus side though, being at the race that early though meant getting to spend some time in the Famous Yankee Clipper Hotel, getting coffee, spending some one on one time together, and pre-race people watching (something that I enjoy immensely). It also meant getting to watch the elite wave as they navigated the obstacles. 

When they first planned this event, they had planned it to fall on a different day. Then, because a famous country artist was coming to town, the city forced the race to switch weekends. In a strange twist of luck, although they had all of the appropriate permits for specific areas of the beach, the musician (with his whole stage and setup) showed up 5 days early and forced the race out of their permitted area and onto another part of the beach. For this reason, the obstacles were a bit jumbled up at the beginning and end of the race, and the race wound up being a little shorter than their advertised 5k. Crap happens (I TOTALLY get that), so I don't really begrudge the race promoters for these issues, because they were legitimately beyond their control.

What I do hold them accountable for is the fact that some of their obstacles were poorly made. Granted, leaving some of their obstacles (like vertical wall climbs made out of plywood) outside overnight the night before may have exposed them to dew, salt and wind... but I think that their construction was poor quality. Poor enough that before even the first wave of participants finished, there was a safety issue as athletes were breaking through the plywood or support beams were coming unfastened. 

For this reason, I chose to forgo a number of the more difficult inverted climb obstacles. I'm sure with a little struggling (and maybe some assistance) I could have navigated these obstacles, but for my own safety (because we also know I am a complete klutz), I decided early on that I would opt out.

Me with Ray and Thomas with a couple of girls from Karma Athletes

When it was time for our wave to go, Ray and I made out way to the start line. I had seen people bunching up at the earlier obstacles, so I knew that there was no real incentive rush past the start line... We stood and talked to a man with whom we had seen when we ran the Warrior Dash. This man, who we would later spend a lot of time talking to, was kind of hard to mistake for anyone else: as a below-the-knee amputee, this man is a complete badass. When we saw him at Warrior Dash, he had been wearing some funky gold spandex costume, but this time, he was in a superman costume, and telling us about his new project... a recently launched website dedicated to "raising America's awareness to amputee needs" (I plan to write a more comprehensive post about Thomas and his Superman Walks project, but that will be reserved for another time).

For some reason Ray thought I needed a boost.

The race was fairly straightforward. From the startline, you run to 3 obstacles (a tire run, a series of boxes that you have to climb over, then a series of over/unders at the waters edge. These were not difficult obstacles, but (unlike my last run where I had no pain whatsoever) early on in this race, I knew that the arches of my feet couldn't handle the uneven terrain. I also struggled in the sand with my shoes, and quickly opted to remove them altogether.

Unfortunately though, because I took off my shoes, and the chips were attached to the shoes, I then had nowhere to stick my timing chip. I tucked it into my back pocket and hoped for the best.

The next 2 miles were a straight shot down the beach to the rock jetty, up the rocks and around a series of cones, then back onto the beach for the return distance toward the finishline. Oh, and a few areas where we were required to stop and crab-walk in the sand or do burpees or jumping jacks.

Easy in theory, but when every step into the soft and uneven sand brought tears to my eyes and made me curse everyone I have ever met over the duration of my entire life... just putting one foot in front of the other proved to be excruciatingly difficult.

At times when I felt like simply sitting my butt into the sand and giving up, I looked toward my new friend Thomas, reminding myself that this was  nothing like what he endured in losing his leg...

Before I knew it, the race was over and we were getting to the last series of obstacles. I think this is somewhat illustrative of my progress through this running journey. When I started, I could barely walk around the block without getting winded. That FIRST tenth of a mile really got me. Then when I started running 5Ks, I struggled to drag myself through them. But I did, and had an immense sense of accomplishment. And then when I started doing half marathons I struggled to keep going (which I openly admit I still struggle with), and I surprise myself everytime that I cross the finish line. But after having done so many half marathons, my perspective has changed.

What was once a whole mile, has now become a nice quick mile. What was once an entire 5K is now just a 5K. Where I used to think of 5 miles as a long run, I now think of 5 miles as a standard training run.

Don't get me wrong. This race sucked (because my own body was failing me, not through the fault of the promoter), and every step was torturous, however it went by in the blink of an eye. Afterall, it was Just a 5K.
 
The final obstacles were decent, we had sandcrawls, ramps with tires, crawling mazes, an inverted ladder climb (which I avoided lest I fall and injury my feet even more), 80 degree ramps (which I opted to go around because I wouldn't have been able to get the speed needed with my feet hurting so badly), a spiderweb maze, and a series of vertical walls to climb (which I opted out of due to the way they were constructed). 

We crossed the finishline and collected our medals, said our goodbyes and went to breakfast.

We later learned that both of our timing chips failed, so we don't know how long this event took us... but that's ok.

We still had a great morning at the beach.

5K Foam Fest Miami - February 2, 2013

Because Ray and I had so much fun running the Warrior Dash, and even more fun running the Run For Your Lives Zombie Infested 5K (despite my ridiculous knack for getting hurt), everytime either one of us gets an email about a new obstacle run or mud run, our interest gets piqued.

So when we got an email from the makers of the 5K Foam Fest, we immediately began getting excited to get out there and challenge ourselves again.

5K Foam Fest is like other mud runs, with climbing obstacles, electricity, barbed wire, and mud. But then they have added a new spin to the idea and have included a number of inflatable bounce-houses, slides and other obstacles which they have filled with foam (soapy bubbles). Think Slip and Slide meets child's bounce house party, but for adults. With a 5k run.

And things like this beast of a water slide.



And a medal at the end.

And beer.

Leading up to the actual event was not so great. I kept getting the nagging feeling that the promotions company was sub-par. We got an email about being registered. Then we got an email that the registration had inadvertedly left off some fees for mandatory insurance so we had to give them more money or we couldn't run. Then we go another email a few days later that reminded us that parking was $20 per car, and if we didn't pay the parking we couldn't get into the lot, and we probably wouldn't be able to run. Then a few days later we got another email saying that we had to make sure that we signed waivers (which took away their liability should we get hurt) and that if we didn't bring them on the day of, they would have some available for us, for a $5 fee. If we didn't sign them or pay the fee for a copy of the paper, we couldn't run. Then we got an email reminding us to bring cash to the event so that we could buy some of their merchandise. Then the day before the event, we got emails telling us that there would be photographers on the course and for a $5 fee we could take home the photos on the day of the event as they would be printing them on site.

Each of these things seems reasonable enough when separated out as isolated incidents, but because it was always one thing after another, I was left with a bad taste in my mouth, feeling as if we were being nickle and dimed.

When I go to a race, even if I know that there is no charitable aspect involved in it and we are doing little more than lining the pockets of the promotions company, I still want to be treated with respect, and like more than just a paycheck.

So Ray took to emailing them. And the woman he was corresponding with was seriously lacking in the customer service department.

I am high anxiety to begin with, but the idea of running at an event where there was poor customer service combined with feeling like we were being treated as just a way to bring in some fast cash had me dreading my participation in the week leading up to the event. I began to worry that they wouldn't be giving us what we paid for, that the obstacles might be dangerous, that we wouldn't have a good time, that the promo company would just flake out altogether (which did happen at a race that we were signed up for in October but we never actually participated in), and that it was going to be an all around disaster. And then there is the fear of personal injury.

I can understand a little bit of disorganization at an event. Perhaps there are not enough volunteers to hand out water. Perhaps the course is damaged so it bottlenecks too much and creates a traffic jam. Perhaps the weather is awful. But when you see disorganization and a lack of appropriate response to participants legitimate concerns, this could be a sign of a bigger crack in the system. And at an obstacle race, these cracks can lead to devastating injuries.

And me, considering that I seem to get injured just walking out of my house in the morning and I manage to find any possible hole in the ground within 50 yards of me, I dreaded being put in a situation where I could wind up getting hurt.

But our fears were for naught.

Me with Ray, David, Kevin and Shannon

We carpooled with our friends Shannon, Kevin and David (to split the $20 parking fee), and we arrived to find a much more organized event than we had thought we would find. Sure, there wasn't as much of a pre-race party atmosphere as we had been promised leading up to the event, but it was still early in the morning. And it was brisk.

After checking in with registration and getting our bibs, I was somewhat saddened to learn that that as a "fun run," this would be an untimed event. I guess their website states this, but for some reason I didn't know about it before hand. While I never complete these runs thinking I will win my division based on time, I do like the idea of timing chips on these runs, because it is just one more way to challenge myself and keep myself on track and running the whole thing.

The actual run left me feeling far more impressed than the customer service leading up to it. There were plenty of really great obstacles and I felt myself having a great time. It was chilly, but there was a moment of serious cognitive dissonance because while it was so chilly, the sun was was brutal (with sunburns being imminent). I had a great time running through the mountain biking trail portions (enough fun that I might consider doing some trail running as training), but found myself having some issues when running on (supposedly) level and flat ground.

True to form, if there is a hole anywhere within spitting distance, I'm gonna put my foot right into it and roll an ankle (something that happened THREE times on this race). No serious injuries this time (thankfully), but still enough to make me cautious about where I stepped.

The only obstacle I had difficulty with were 8 foot walls that we had to scale. I knew that I needed to get my toes between the slats but they wouldn't fit, and I didn't have the upper body strength to pull myself up (I am seriously lacking in any kind of strength, let alone arm strength). I fell off of the first one and tried a second time before making it over. The second wall in the sequence had me trying multiple times before giving up and going around. I told Ray it was no big deal, I'd skip it and I'd be fine, but about 10 yards later, I was getting down on myself.

I don't want to be one of those people who does things half assed and who gives up when the going gets tough. While I'd never judge anyone else for not starting something or for giving up when they knew their limitations...to me, the only thing that is worse than not trying something is quitting before absolutely necessary.

Ray saw me getting upset and he stopped me to give me a pep talk.

And I decided we needed to turn around and I needed to give that wall another fair shot. This time, I accepted his help in the form of a leg-up, I struggled to get my upper body wrapped over the top, and then pulled with all my might to get myself up and over the top.

It was only an 8 foot wall, but it might as well have been climbing Mt. Washington.

I would definitely be sore later, but at the time, I felt invincible.

I don't know how well I fared based on time. But what I lacked in that department, I made up in spirit and determination.

I earned this medal.

And the beer that went with it.

Run for your Lives - November 17, 2012

My husband has always been a fan of Zombie flicks. Whether they are first rate or third rate, my husband can't seem to get enough of Zombies. It doesn't matter whether the undead can walk under water, whether they smell or hear their prey, whether there are chaser zombies or stumbler zombies... none of that matters. Ray loves them all. Me on the other hand? I had to look up the differences and then ask Ray if I understood the differing abilities that various filmmakers have given their ghoulish creatures.

I'll be the first to admit that I don't know much about zombies. But I do know that I really enjoy watching the Walking Dead on AMC. Ever since the first episode, I've been sucked in. I started reading Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead graphic novels too. And much to my amusement, most of my friends were watching this show and reading the stories as well. Because it was less about zombie-lore, and more about what happens to humanity and the drama that ensues when people are staring face-to-face with the apocalypse.

So one night, Ray was surfing the internet, looking up mud runs (because that was one of the things that he really wanted to do when he first started running with our friend Shannon), and he found the website for Run For Your Lives: A Zombie Infested 5K obstacle race. There was an event scheduled for November 17, 2012 at an off roading course near Orlando, and we quickly began to investigate. From what we understood, it was an obstacle course similar to any other mudrun, but this time it was also a cross with capture the flag.

After a little investigation, we learned that we could reduce our cost of participating in the race by volunteering to also perform a shift as zombies. So in exchange for being able to run through this course and have people capture our flags, we also got to spend a few hours dressed as zombies capturing the flags off of other people.* SCORE! twice the fun for less the money!

So we made a weekend of it with our friends Shannon, John and Michelle. Michelle invited her friends Brina and Tracey, and we all arrived before dawn for makeup and costumes on Saturday morning the 17th of November. It was cold. We had stopped for coffee and donuts on the way to the course, but that didn't seem to help. We stood waiting to get checked in, hearing our teeth chatter over the sound of the generators humming in the makeup tent. We didn't have much time to marvel over the fact that we could see our own breath though... we had transformations to undertake.

We wound up using this as our annual holiday card photo.

First they dirtied up our clothes (I wish I wasn't so sun sensitive and could have just worn the bridesmaid dress without the undershirt because it looked dumb, but whatever). Then they applied prosthetic devices on our faces and did our make up and fake sores. This process was cool because a couple of the artists doing our makeup were contestants on Face Off, on Syfy. (I couldn't tell you who because I am not religious about that show, but I have seen it a few times, so it was a cool experience nonetheless).

Then we stood and waited for a little while until the sun rose and it warmed up a little. The final process in our zombie transformation was the application of dirt and blood. "Dirt" was applied with a spray brush and pump sprayers. Blood was far less precise. You stood in front of a tarp and closed your eyes while they threw handfuls of their blood concoction (KY liquid and food coloring). It was like a scene straight out of Carrie.

As an aside, fire ants are attracted to KY liquid, so keep that in mind should you ever want to get frisky outdoors.

Finally, our zombie transformation was over. We made a cute bunch of walkers, right?

Shannon, Me, Ray, Tracey, Michelle, John and Brina ready to eat your brains.

After a briefing of what was expected of us in our role as undead and how this whole race worked, our group hoofed it out to zone 11 of the course which was really somewhat of a natural obstacle. there was a quick way around, that was flat and straightforward, then there was a series of hills that we decided as a group that we wanted to funnel the runners toward to make their experience a little tougher.

John pushing runners toward Brittany and me.

Brittany and me showing off the first flags we got

Ray, Shannon and John worked at the bottom of the first big hill to funnel the people upward to us. A girl that I met named Brittany and I positioned ourselves halfway up the hill to bottleneck the runners and make it like shooting fish in a barrel, and then once at the top of the hill, runners met Brina, then Michelle and Tracey. We worked fairly well as team, and we really had a lot of fun.

One of the things that I noticed early on was that all runners are not created equal. From my own experience learning how to run (thus far), I already knew that there were some slower runners and some faster runners, there were those out to win an award and those out to just have a good time, and there were those who were in top physical shape and those who were out there for the first time trying to decide if this running thing is something they can handle. What I wasn't expecting was the discrepancy between those runners who remembered that this was just a game and we were all people underneath our makeup or running clothes, vs. those who took the game (and perhaps life) a bit too seriously and wanted to protect their flags at all costs.

Don't get me wrong, as zombies, we liked the challenge of "the kill," but runners seemed to forget that as people, the zombies could (and would) get hurt if they were too rough. And it seemed that the girls who were running the race seemed to forget this faster than the guys. I can't tell you how many times I collided with a male runner and we both apologized profusely to one another and checked to make sure that everyone was ok. On the other hand, I also can't tell you how many times I was swatted, hit, or pushed out of the way by female runners (my arms were covered with bruises for weeks after this event). After watching Brittany be (for lack of any other description) hockey checked off the path and into pricker bushes, I felt my  enthusiasm wane. I was out there to have a good time and pretend to be less than alive... I didn't actually want to be less than alive.

After our Zombie shift was over, we had a little lunch and then I returned with Ray, Michelle and Shannon to run the course. Michelle and Shannon ran a faster pace than me, and we lost them very quickly at the start. I was nervous going into some of the obstacles (after falling off of an obstacle at Warrior Dash the week before), but with Ray there, I felt like overcoming my fears was possible.

About halfway into the course, there was an open field that was loaded with Zombies, and I found myself sprinting through it dodging and weaving from the Zombies as they grabbed at my flags. I was having a great time, and I was going far faster than I had ever run before. I had a huge target on my back as I still had 2 of my flags, and there were 2 runner Zombies fresh on my heels.

And wouldn't you know, in the blink of an eye, just as Zombie-Girl snatched a flag off my belt, I must have found the *only* hole in the field with my right foot. My ankle rolled, my leg buckled underneath me, I didn't even have time to put my hands up to break my fall. I landed flat on my face, and felt every joint in my right leg twist and pop on the way down. Suddenly I couldn't breathe, on top of everything, I had the wind knocked out of me.

Thankfully Zombie-Girl who had been right on my heels was the good kind of Zombie, and she took control of the scene right away, getting on the ground with me into my line of vision, telling me to focus on her because help was on the way. Zombie-Girl clearly felt awful. She kept apologizing (as if it was her fault I'm a klutz), and tried to give me my flag back (I didn't take it because she had grabbed it fair and square, but it was a sweet gesture).

The EMTs came and were fairly forceful in their desire to cart me off to medical. When I finally caught my breath, Ray and I had a heart to heart. Would I take the ride with the EMTs back to medical or would I hobble through the pain for the last 1.5 miles and have the ability to look at myself the next day knowing that I had done what I set out to do. Would I know I gave it my best, or would I regret giving up? While still laying on the ground, tears streaming down my face, I weighed my options. And I asked myself why I do this.

What has this whole running thing been about?

And like that, the answer was clear. I do it because I was told I would never. I do it to prove to myself that I can.

I asked Zombie-Girl and Ray to help me to my feet, and told Ray we had some walking to do yet.

And every tenth of a mile from there was excruciating. Looking back, knowing I had less than 2 months left to train for my Disney half marathon, I probably should have taken the ride to the medical station rather than risk greater injury, but I did what I thought was best at the time.

And I finished. It took a really long time. It was excructiating. At times I had to put a majority of my weight on Ray's shoulder, but I finished. I was about to give up while climbing one of the last obstacles (a 15 foot ladder to take a waterslide into a frigid cold dumpster full of colored water), but a couple of other runners reached out to help pull me to the top, and I made it.

And I crossed the finish line.

I no longer had any of my flags, but I still had my pride.

Shannon, me and Ray after dying at Run For Your Lives

*What they hadn't told us when we signed up for both a volunteer shift and the run was that while we would run with flag belts, we would run without bibs or timing chips. We got t-shirts for volunteering, but they weren't the same shirts that runners got either. This was a little bit of a let down, but it was still a really good experience. We had a blast, and I would definitely do it again.

Warrior Dash - November 10, 2012

When Ray first started running with our friend Shannon, he said he really wanted to run a mud run. He could give or take road races, but he wanted the opportunity to challenge himself on obstacles, and get dirty like a kid again.

In November 2012, we had just that opportunity when we saw that Warrior Dash was going to be putting on an event 20 minutes from our house, and it fit into my half marathon training schedule.

I had thought long and hard about what I was going to wear to the race. I didn't want to wear nice running clothes because... well... mud. I knew I had to wear sleeves because I have some sensitivity to the sun (read: my skin burns so bad it turns blue if I am in the sun for more than 5 minutes with anything less than 50 SPF). And I had always thought if I was going to do anything like this, I wanted to do it princess style.

It was all settled on a trip home to see my family in October, when in the back of my old closet, I found my hideous taffeta gown that all members of our high school chorus were required to wear. On a whim, I tried the dress on, and realized that I had lost enough weight that it fit me once again...

And it was just as hideous as I had remembered.

With a little butchering across the bottom, it made a perfect outfit for crawling through pits of mud, swimming through storm drains, climbing over busted out cars, and hurdling over fire.

gotta be a cute girl in a dress?

eff that! RAWRRRR!

So we got to the race a little early. I had worked out an arrangement with a promotions company for another series of road races, and in exchange for free entry into one of his upcoming races, I spent a couple of hours wandering around the parking lot putting flyers on cars to promote their upcoming events. You'll hear more about this in a later blog entry (I promise), but just know that not everyone who is out there tossing flyers on cars is a jerk with nothing better to do. Some of us do this to help offset our own race entries (which we all know can be really expensive).... but I digress.

After passing close to 3,000 flyers, Ray and I returned to the Jeep, and got ready for the run. I had heard previously that people frequently get rocks in their shoes during mud runs, and that using a little duct tape around the tops of your socks can help alleviate this problem... so we duct taped away. I had some really cute hot pink duct tape, that you can kind of see in this photo.

Once I was taped up, we went to the pre-race party and listened to the bands and watches people make their way through the final 2 obstacles: a series of leaps over flaming logs, then a mud pit crawl underneath barbed wire. The mud was really liquidy, and it looked like a lot of fun, and we could wait.

At 2:30, it was time for our corral to go. The first mile was uneventful, as it went around the side of a lake. It seemed that the obstacles were really all compressed into the last 2 miles instead of being evenly spaced out, and I seemed to be handling them fairly well.

The 4th obstacle was the "leaders ledge"  (click the link to see someone else's photo of what this obstacle looks like to better understand), which proved to be very tricky. As we were in queue to try this obstacle, a girl managed to lose her grip and fall the 3 feet into the pit below. Because it was mid-afternoon and we were in South Florida heat, the water that should have been in the pit had dried up, there was nothing to cushion this girl's fall and we heard her head smack on the limestone below. It was enough to really scare me... but not enough for me to sit it out.

There wasn't a lot of space for my feet on the ledge and I clearly lack the upper body strength to hold on by my fingertips. I tried as best I could but when I got about 3/4 of the way accross, I lost my grip. Unwilling to risk serious injury, I let go, rather than fall. When I landed, my foot rolled slightly, but I shook it off and climbed out to the other side.

Ray made it through like a boss... and I was so proud of him!

Immediately after this obstacle, we had to climb a vertical wall using rope pulls. Again, I knew I lacked the upper body strength to pull myself up, but I had to give it a try. I made it about halfway up the wall, before losing my footing and falling to the ground. This time, I didn't have the time to prepare for the fall, and I rolled my left ankle. Immediately, I felt it begin to swell and throb.

Ray wanted to call medical, but I just wanted to finish.

I don't know what came over me. I was hurt. Every last ounce of my body wanted to give up and let the medical team cart me to the finish line. I wanted to pack it in, go home, take my toys, not pass go, get into bed and hope that this terrible horrible no good very bad day would soon be over.... but none of that actually happened.

Instead, I asked Ray to help me to my feet, and I began to hobble along the trail to toward the next obstacle (a series of balance beams), then the next (a sand crawl), and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next.

And before I knew it, we were face to face with the final two obstacles and the finish line. I took a couple of quick puffs on my inhaler, pulled my bandana down over my nose and mouth and (as gently as possible) limped over the flaming logs and followed ray into the mud crawl.

Unfortunately, as the day wore on, the texture and consistency of the mud changed. Whereas the mud had seemed soupy and fun earlier in the day when we were watching people cross the pit, by the time we got there, it had turned to a mix between quicksand and quick-set cement. Two steps in, and I started to sink and get stuck. The bottom floor of the mud pit was uneven limestone and with a twisted ankle, I couldn't quite get my feet underneath me. I was less than 10 feet from the finish line, but suddenly it felt like it might as well have been as far away as Montana.

The more I struggled to free myself, the more stuck I would get. I felt like Artax in the Swamp of Sadness in The Neverending Story. No matter what I did, I just couldn't free myself. My hands and knees were scratching on the rough stone at the bottom of the pit, my ankle was on fire, I was struggling so hard I couldn't catch my breath, and I watched Ray pull himself out of the end of the pit and start reaching for me. He was coming back for me... and it felt awesome to know he was there to help me when I needed it...

But I also recognized that some obstacles I just have to overcome by myself.

I was probably the last person on the course, and there was a large audience crowded around the pit watching. I could hear the crowd cheering me on, telling me I could do it, motivating me. I inhaled deeply, and with every last fiber of my being, I pushed my body forward. And then I did it again.

After finishing, I finally got some much needed med treatment

And my feet were suddenly underneath me. And I felt Ray's hand close around mine, as I pulled myself up.

Hand in hand, we crossed the finish in 1:11:20.95. But to me, the time wasn't important.

I finished.

And when I got really stuck, I didn't take the easy way out.

For once in my life, I didn't give up.