Back in 2010, my then-fiancee, now wife Susan and I competed in the inaugural Sunday River Tough Mountain Challenge. And, we found that it was true to its name; yup, it was up and down a mountain, and yup, it was tough. But it was particularly tough for me; I’d bet with Susan on wedding rings, loser to buy, given her a 5 minute handicap…and I lost. Expensive race, and she’d been gloating for two years plus…could I even the score?
We’d pretty much taken the intervening two years off from any sort of racing, thanks to getting married, moving, renovating a house, living in the garage while we did it; you know, normal stuff. We’d been told that the TMC had changed, a LOT; more obstacles, longer, and a lot harder. We weren’t sure we were ready for it, period, or for any racing, but we gave the Mountain Mucker a try, and while it’s no TMC, it was hard enough, and we had fun enough, that we decided to take the plunge into the deep end of the mud again.
Of course, that meant competition time again. During the spring, Susan and I had been following very different fitness paths, and we wondered which would work better. She’d been pretty traditional; sick woman that she is, she actually LIKES to run, so had been working on getting her running form back. I’m more a cyclist, and with the help of my good friend (and great guitarist) Mike Golay, had been working on power-meter based training, focusing on building both my short-term power and my ability to go at a long, steady pace. The only problem is that the muscles used for cycling and running are different; I just didn’t know if my program would translate well onto the mountain. On the other hand, adventure obstacle course races aren’t all about running, instead putting the emphasis on your ability to pretty much do everything, so maybe my routine would work.
So, time to set a bet. We were coming up on an anniversary trip, and as usual had some differing ideas of what we wanted. None of the choices were bad for either of us, but we each had preferences. A perfect bet…one of us is REALLY happy, the other one still gets a great trip. Being of Scottish descent, I’m cheap, so figured that if I lost, Susan’s choice would set my ka-ching meter off. Now, THAT’S an incentive to do well! She asked for her 5 minute handicap again; it had actually made for a fairly even competition in the last race, so we agreed on it again.
Race day came, with the usual butterflies. We’d chosen to stay at home and make the 1 1/2 hour drive up in the morning, betting on a better night’s sleep in our own bed. But, the usual pre-race jitters were with us and sleep was elusive, so we were as foggy as we didn’t want to be; driving up meant a BIG cup of coffee. Susan’s heat was earlier than mine, so I got to worry longer. Fun.
And worry I did, as I navigated the course to take photos, and saw her flying through obstacles way ahead of the time I had estimated. She clearly was in the best shape she’d been for any of these events, and was doing a good job with her course management; the easiest thing to do with any of these events is to go too hard early, blow up, and then have a miserable time for the rest of the race. No sign of that for her! She flew across the finish line with a time of 1:12:10; hmmm. Based on everything I’d heard, and looking at the times from the year before, I had been hoping to come in under 1:15. Time to rethink that!
And, time for me to start. There’s always a big adrenaline rush at the start, and it’s hard to not take off fast and try to stick with the gazelles. I fought it back and settled into a steady pace, remembering the words of wisdom from a MTB racer I’d known years ago; “You can’t win this race at the start, but you sure can lose it.” Knowing how hard the “easy” inaugural event had been, and having heard about wonderful new features like “WTF Hill,” I stuck with my game plan and took the first part of the course easy.
“Easy” being a relative term; I was still sweating and gasping within minutes. The new obstacles, and the placement of them, definitely upped the difficulty. In particular, the barbed wire mud crawl came early on, and left me soaked, muddy, and with a shirt that weighed several pounds extra as I climbed up the next $@&*@*& hill (note to self; next time, choose a shirt that doesn’t take on lots of extra weight!).
But as I settled into the race, I realized that, above all else, the training that Mike had made me go through had given me an almost automatic ability to regulate myself at near my limits, without going above them. In the past, I’d typically crest a hill, then relax a bit; now, knowing that I wasn’t in the “red zone”, I’d actually accelerate as I crested it. Without all those extra slow down/speed up segments, I was not only faster, but I also didn’t have those big spikes in my heartrate each time I’d accelerate. By halfway through, I was feeling better about my time, and having fun in the usual sick, painful way.
With no watch on, I was flying a bit blind, but the ability to focus only on how I was performing without being able to obsess over my time reduced some stress, and allowed me to stay more in touch with my own body and how close to the edge I was. I didn’t know if I would beat Susan or not, but I knew this; I couldn’t have gone a whole lot faster, at least without more running training. While overall the pure conditioning I’d been doing was working well, my body still wasn’t used to, and didn’t like, running. Data point for next time…
Finally, I hit the last obstacle, and started “running” to the finish line; my body had pretty much entirely given up on anything that a decent runner would recognize, but I was still able to move faster than a walk. Line crossed, time checked and calculated, and…I won! With the longer course and being able to push myself more, I’d come in at 57:27, almost 15 minutes ahead of Susan, instead of just short of 5 the time before. While she was definitely able to run better than I could, so little of the course requires actual running that the base aerobic work that I had been doing had allowed me to stay faster on more of the course. Chalk one up for Mike’s scientific geekness; he’d taken me to entirely new levels.
As had the course; the redesigned TMC was a much more difficult, and more fun, race. Covering much more of the mountain, it has a “big race” feel more like the Tough Mudder, but without the insane number of people (and the associated insane waits to test yourself on some of the obstacles). There’s also a sense of place with the TMC; many of the obstacles really take advantage of the terrain and the resort, rather than being the same obstacles used at other events in entirely different places. You never forget that you’re on a big New England ski mountain (and that skiing down is a hell of a lot easier than clambering up!). It helps take the pain away, because there’s such a sense of fun in everything that the organizers have done (including the signs along the way).
Training, course, luck, whatever…no matter what the reason, I’d won the bet! No 4 star hotels for our anniversary; no, this meant a rustic cabin in Quebec, some wine and appetizers and cards and a lot of sitting around and staring at the view. Somehow, Susan didn’t seem TOO disappointed. But even though she’s happy with my choice, I know she’s already plotting her revenge…and I’m betting she’ll be asking for a bigger handicap next time. Hey, win or lose, we’re out there having fun, and isn’t that what all of this is REALLY about?