Palmerton

If you’re close to me, even if you don’t run Spartan races, you know this is hell on Earth and 2 feet.  I have talked about Palmerton for years – especially because after finishing last year, I swore I’d never go back there again.  I was so serious that I even called my mother in tears and rage with a non-working jaw because I unknowingly ground my teeth for the 4 hours it took me to complete it in agony and suffering.

Today, July 13, 2019 – I sailed in 3:11, on tired ass legs.  That means I beat last years’ time by 50 minutes, and according to prior results – every year I’ve tried.  Despite the numerical and quantifiable results, there’s a little negative voice that isn’t always so little that says: if I tapered, I could’ve run sub 3 hours.  If I just pushed myself a little faster up the vertical climbs, I could’ve shaved more time.  If I started more forward in the group and moved past people instead of waiting in line, I would’ve spared more minutes.  If I just hung onto those obstacles that gave me trouble, I would’ve spared burpees and even more time. But because I work hard on myself and how I show up in my life, I now also have a higher voice that is saying: enough.  We all know that that voice will always be there – the voice that degrades you even if you win the entire event.  It’ll smash you to bits once competition photos come in and say “see!  I knew you looked like shit.”  It’ll wait to hear how a newbie almost beat you and say “see!  I knew you weren’t that great.”  I have learned that it’s always there, and it’s my choice to pick it up or not.  I have also learned that I now have the choice between the voices and can attach to both or neither – any time.

Just as last year was different and I was protecting myself from a long road back from injury, this year was also.  I am running fit – the fittest I have been and far from where I intend to go (hence the ego’s version of thinking and assuming I should’ve faired even better).  I have been following programming from an OCR and running guru Richard Diaz, and saw him in early June for gait analysis, testing and nutrition.  I learned how to run, and it took up until about 10 days ago for it all to start to click and to settle.  It’s been hard to transition running onto my forefoot (even downhill) after heel striking my entire life.  It’s been hard to transition running with a legit and proper arm swing after having a one Gucci arm and another T-rex.  It’s been hard to transition into a higher aerobic threshold per testing, and to let my heart catch up to the math.  It’s been hard to let the numbers go and to stop judging each individual training session and to focus on my now and my why and the gift that is physical movement each day.

This year, I went to test my fitness.  I haven’t been out since last August to a Spartan venue and I knew a handful of obstacles were new.  I also knew the terrain would serve as great Tahoe practice and I’d get to check in with my gear, nutrition and hydration.  I didn’t taper at all because I didn’t come to win – I came to continue my programming and to see where things were improving and where they still lacked.  And that’s exactly what I did.  Because I didn’t taper, my legs were smoked immediately.  We climbed 3100’ in elevation in 8 miles, and we did most of that in the first 4-5.  To say my legs felt like concrete blocks going up and Jell-O coming down was an understatement.  Then you add in obstacles: tall walls, ropes, sandbags, loaded buckets, monkey bars of varying material and movement and degree, other weird ass shit that I don’t even know who designs, and you. 

I have done a lot of introspection over the last week and was also probed as to my overarching fitness goals with the underlying “why do you race”?  For many, it may not make sense to compete and not go to win.  It may not make sense to race if you aren’t going to leave bloody and beaten.  But I have learned over the years that my joy and freedom in movement and tackling myself are left when I focus on placement, numerics or how I stack up against people that are better than me.  This work has taught me that I am my biggest obstacle.  It has taught me that the mind will do things to the body that the body can withstand.  The mind can also win over that body and get it through when its body doesn’t think it can withstand.  I had a little bit of both this race – I rocked the sandbag by counting steps of 3 and never stopping, not once.  I paid close attention to the hanging and grip obstacles and only faltered when I forgot to dry my hands and check the lane to make sure the rig was conducive to success – it wasn’t.  I didn’t give up on the stuff that was seemingly impossible and succeeded.  I didn’t give up the rope climb even though my legs did none of the work and my finger sliced open.  I didn’t let go of the rings which have been my nemesis.  And I didn’t walk off the course in the first 4+ miles because I was contemplating it the entire time. 

I hydrated every 15 minutes as directed.  I fueled every 45.  I ate my normal foods around the race and just had an extra snack because my body is hungry.  Not once did I think “I wonder what I look like right now”.  Not once did I see a camera man and think “I better suck it in or pull my shorts up.”  Not once ­– and that is a miracle.  That is worth the entire effort.  That is what showing up and taking care of yourself physically, spiritually and emotionally yields you when you put in the work.

My racing and training are my meditation – I am outside alone for hours at a time, with no music or phone interference.  It allows me to notice things.  At Palmerton I noted my enormous intolerance to suffering early on and kept going anyway.  I noted my incredibly negative attitude when I couldn’t run and expected to be able to run so easily and it made my ego sear and want to quit because what’s the point if you’re not the best?  I then noted my celebration when I got through things that used to be hard for me – I paid those things attention and gave them respect.  I noticed my joy when I realized we were almost done, and I had, in fact, blasted my goal of finishing in the time I had sought.  I slowed my mind down and stayed close to now.  The things I failed I know why, and I can fix, including the attached mindset to perceived permanence in suffering and physical pain.  This shit makes you gritty, and grit has gotten me far in life and through some hard things.

Do you have something in your life that demands respect and gives you grit?  That is fitness for me.  That is obstacle course racing.  I appreciate that many find it foul to think of running outside in this heat and to spend hours sweating and working hard.  The great news is that no one must have the same challenge to make them stretch into a better version of themselves.  God created us uniquely so that we could choose which avenue best suits us.  That avenue may change but pick one and start walking.  The world will always be better for it.