(Editor Note: Humans are competitive by nature, and it’s natural to turn many active outdoor pastimes into “competitive” events. These competitions are popping  up in many forms  all over the outdoor landscape in all seasons of the year. For some racers, these events are very serious. For others, not so much. Before you decide that you could never “compete” in a serious outdoor race, read on . . .)

My fiancé, ES publisher and senior editor David Shedd, started writing the series, “Crazy Style Racing” about our dumb idea to do races we hadn’t properly trained for. We thought it would be “fun” to test our fitness levels against both hard-core athletes and other weekend warriors.

We were right, by the way. It was dumb. It was totally nuts. And it was fun.

Like a couple of fools in love, we entered four races together; the first, the Wildman Biathlon, we worked together on. The second and third, Sunday River’s “Tough Mountain Challenge” & Stratton Mountain’s “North Face Run To The Summit” we competed against each other to see who would have veto power on wedding decisions. For the final test, we decided to work as a team from beginning to end, cheering each other on, and crossing the finish line together. And, for once, it turned out we’d made a SMART decision! The Shawnee Peak Challenge turned out to be not only a test of our physical strength and coordination, but a major test of my willpower. A true Navy Seal/Army Ranger obstacle course, it was longer and meaner than anything we’d faced yet; training clearly required.

First, knowing that there would be a significant amount of running involved, we decided it was time to begin our “rigorous training regimen”…Left… Left… Left… Right… Left…Singing gleefully, “Boom chug-a-lug-a lug-a, boom chug-a lug-a-lug-a, boom chug- a-lug-a lug-a, boom.”  NOT.  Our actual training  was hardly more sophisticated than our daily run to the bathroom. Thanks to injuries and messed-up schedules, we suddenly realized that there was only a week to go before the race, and we hadn’t even begun to prepare. We weren’t complete idiots, though; we got right on the horn and asked our “fit” friends how to train for a race in one week. That’s plenty of training time, right? Um, NO. Luckily, although we hadn’t been doing specific training, we’d at least been active through most of the summer…we hiked, biked, kayaked, and ran wooded trails…our time hadn’t been a total waste. Besides, we both agreed that this was supposed to be, uh, well, fun…therefore, we steered clear of counting calories, drinking endless protein shakes, and training morning and night. We viewed our upcoming race through rose colored glasses. Probably a good thing …we had NO idea what we were in for!

The night before the race:  we’re packing our gear together, and I’m starting to think, “Really?  We’re really going to do this?” I hadn’t exercised since the Sunday River race, I’d started a new job that doesn’t allow me to exercise (good excuse, eh?), and I think I’m coming down with a “horrible” cold and a temperature of 102.   Hmm… What else can I dream up? I’ve learned along the way that the more excuses you come up with, the better (David’s a master of excuses)! But, as luck would have it, David would have none of that…”We’ve signed up and we’re going! You can back out, Susan, but I’m racing…”  Hah, like I was going to fall for that one! I was in whether I walked, crawled, or rolled across the finish line – we were in it TOGETHER.  “You call it madness, but I call it love.”  (Don Byas)

There are advantages to signing up for a local race. One, it’s a great way to support a local outdoor event. Two, sometimes you can run the course prior to the actual race (sometimes not; check with the race organizers in advance). Seeing the course theoretically reduces fears, lets you talk about technique/strategies, and test out an obstacle or two.

The reality?  In this case, it mainly scared the daylights out of us! Nevertheless, it put us “into the zone”. What zone was that?  Well, that would be the, “What the heck was I thinking?” zone. We should have been prepared after talking to a race official, and  hearing that he (a seasoned athlete) found it to be an extremely tough course. But, as eager beavers, we began our hike up to the first obstacle to see if his predictions were accurate . . .

Perfect, less than halfway up and we’re already panting..  You can imagine what is going through my head at this moment… “You’ve GOT to be kidding me!” NOT a good sign! The folks at Shawnee Peak certainly created a “true to life” military style obstacle course – complete with  monkey bars! Fabulous. The designer of this course was  a retired Special Operations commando, gee…how charming. We really DO need our heads examined.

As we were hiking along, David was grinning ear to ear! Me? I was grinning alright; oh wait, that’s a grimace. My fears were mounting – oh MAN, were they mounting! We arrived at the four foot barriers (one of the 15 obstacles on the course)…I’m thinking to myself, “I’m supposed to vault over these???”  I’m 5′ 3″, it just ain’t gonna happen. Clearly, the military is expecting recruits to be a LOT taller than me. For David, at 5’10”, these weren’t all that difficult,but while he was gracefully soaring over these walls, I was desperately looking for a place to dig and crawl under! Nope, not an option. I then looked to see if I could “sneak” around the side (you know, where no one’s watching)? Nope, that won’t work either. I have to actually find a way to make it over THEM (that’s right…there wasn’t ONE to deal with, there were FIVE). Ugh. So, if at first you don’t succeed, worry not folks…you have four more tries to bang your knees, elbows, cheeks, ankles and hips (yup, I have bruises in all of these locations – and some bruises where I didn’t know they could exist). Picture a fish flopping around on the ground after being caught and you’ve got the visual of me trying to get over these !@#$%@! walls. I made it, though, and DID get better by the end. But wait, there are 14 more obstacles!

So, we’re making our way through our trial walkthrough, my heart is pounding outside of my chest, I’ve managed to skin my knee, my back is beading with sweat, oh, and my coffee cup is empty! And then we arrive at the monkey bars. For the record, they were only about 30 feet long, but they look like they are 600 million feet long, with a PIT below (this is the area for those unlucky participants who fall in when upper body strength fails; i.e., me); for now, the pit was dry, but we were assured that it would be deep water during the race. I paid close attention to it since I knew that pit would be part of MY race. David made his way across on the bars, and I finally got my first laugh of the day— it wasn’t pretty, other than pretty funny. But he did NOT fall in. I watched and cheered, “Go Baby, Go!” There was NO way I was attempting to do this TWICE; once would be enough.

From here on out, the obstacles were “do-able,” and I was feeling pretty good about the challenges we were about to take on. But wait! That fuzzy, funny, happy feeling I was having?  Oh, it was about to come to a screeching halt! Ever heard the phrase, “it’s all over but the crying”? Yeah, we reached the finish line where there were three (make no mistake, THREE), cargo nets that we had to climb up and over.  The first, 14 FEET, second, 10 feet, and the third, “only” 8 feet.  All kidding aside, I truly felt sick to my stomach at this point. I have a REAL fear of heights, so the other obstacles were a cakewalk compared to what we were facing now, and go figure…they were at the finish line where everyone would be watching!  I looked at this net and visualized myself being catapulted off the side like the coyote in a Road Runner cartoon,  or worse, get my foot tangled, flop over like a dead fish, and break a leg. My heart wasn’t beating outside of my chest; it was in my throat (balanced nicely by my stomach down in my feet). David, being the sweetheart that he is, said “its okay, you can do it…I’ll go behind you, you’ll be safe- I’m right here with you.” I climbed to the top and froze…I was completely paralyzed. I was in tears;  fear had actually taken over. Now, I’m thinking that I will be a DNF (did not finish) candidate…I’d make it to the end, and have to quit…there was NO way I could climb up and over. Good news at the finish line, though; we talked to an official, and he stated that each participant had to “attempt” each obstacle twice, and if unsuccessful at completing, would have a 30 second penalty. That made me feel a little better…it would at least keep me in the race. Still, to get to the end, and not be able to finish an obstacle because of fear, rather than physical inability; I wasn’t feeling good about myself.

The Shawnee Peak Challenge: Race Time

There were many professional athletes ready to hammer the course, looking very strong and prepared. But, there was also a healthy dose of weekend warriors, like David and me. This was GREAT!  We started to feel the excitement, the camaraderie of other nervous competitors was reassuring, and we were already having fun. At this point in the game, you’re in, the start is imminent, and the energy is electric! It’s one of the best things about racing; the sense of anticipation, of taking on the challenges that you’ve seen, can be intoxicating. It wasn’t long before the gun went off — and so did the first set of racers (us included). We couldn’t help but laugh and smile and just give it our best; after all, in less than an hour (hopefully), we’d be done!

The obstacles were arranged on the mountain face with a significant amount of climbing between them. The first one was Long Gun Alley; this was the area where you have to keep moving or “get shot” (hey, these are quotes from the race officials – I did NOT make this up!). It’s hard to keep moving when the elevation is 100 vertical feet while traveling 250 yards (translation: STEEP)…but, we chugged along slowly, trying to keep from overdoing it at the start. We reached the High Crawl, which was actually fun, crawling on our hands and knees through a tunnel (a little break…whew!)  The Balance Logs were next, YIPPEEE…this is an area that I excel…I made it, no problem! For once, I was ahead of David and could cheer him on.  Next, The Bitch. They were NOT lying–this obstacle involved a 100 yard “dash”, and a 400 vertical foot climb…sure, we’re having fun.  Not. A hint; do part of it backwards, as it KILLS your calves climbing an angle that steep! People were down on their hands and knees, unable to get traction on the steep slope.  We were lucky, as we were both using our GoLite trail runners, which have excellent traction, and have a design that puts a lot of the lugs in the forefoot area; they were perfect for that type of work. Finally, the high point on the course…it’s all downhill from here!

Oh fudge, I forgot what’s next…the Barrier Walls…even going downhill, I have to go up!   So, I yelled to David, and said,  “I’ll be right there, darling, wait an hour, if you don’t mind…I have to dig a tunnel under these barriers.” (Publisher’s note: Yes, she actually did that; do you have any idea how hard it is to go over barriers like that when you’re laughing?) But, by some random chance of luck and perseverance, I made it over them! David was cheering me on and I got so excited to be at the last of the five that I slipped and fell against the far side of the barrier…don’t ask!  But, up, brush off, on my way again.  Now we’ve reached the Normandy Walls. These bizarre things are like 3-foot tall “X”s in rows and columns; one slip, and you’re likely to faceplant on the next one, potentially ending your race. Yet another obstacle that was NOT fair to us vertically challenged types. Survival was all I asked for; I took them slowly, making sure I was safe. A few seconds lost here is worth it…better that than DNF and a lot of pain! The next obstacle, Khyber Pass, was a run downhill (2000 yards).  It might seem easy to run downhill, but we’re talking about running down a MOUNTAIN, and if you think for one moment that Shawnee Peak is not steep, think again. Hint: Bend your knees and run like a chimpanzee, keeping your weight centered. But, hey, at least it’s going downhill!

Next up, the High Crawl and Tires; another tunnel crawl, then a downhill run through tires. Taken a little carefully (faceplanting here wouldn’t hurt as much as at the Normady Walls, but still…), it was actually fun. But, in my mind was what was coming…The Monkey Bars!  David, ahead of me, was fast and efficient, getting across them in one try, then turning to cheer me on.  I was HOPING that he’d keep going so that he wouldn’t see me fall into the pit; no such luck. I jumped up, got across a few…and fell in, laughing the entire time.  Let’s face it, landing in a puddle of muddy water IS funny, and when you’re hot and sweaty, it actually feels GREAT! One major fear over with, only one to go…

Moving right along…to the Uneven Fences we went.  What that means is that they are slanted uphill, so that you have to climb up and roll down (or jump over and run down, in David’s case, the jerk)…these weren’t horrible, just more bruises! Picture a floppy tuck and roll, and you’ve got my performance!  Proof once again that I provide the comic relief in this relationship. Headed to the Commando Rope, 40′ of arm over arm, leg over leg, your butt hanging down…you get the picture. David mastered this obstacle quickly, and came back to help me, putting his hands under my back to take some of the weight off my hands.  That’s teamwork!  Through the Trenches we went, more crawling…easy. Well, other than the fact that there was barbed wire over our heads.  Still, another chance for me to shine; vertically challenged is USEFUL when you have to get down low and crawl.  I cheered David on as he made it through, and we headed to the last two obstacles.

Lesson to be learned, though.  Pay attention to the here and now, not what’s coming up; I fell down.  Minor irritation, other than that I broke my timing chip off!  Hindsight being 20/20, I should have left the miserable thing there, headed to the finish line, and yelled out my number to the officials; but, instead I frantically crawled around in the grass looking for it, with other competitors passing me.  Oops.  Finally I found it, and headed for the Mud Pit…now, this was a BLAST!  To run through mud and get completely drenched and disgustingly filthy is my idea of fun! We  heard after the race that one participant DOVE into the mud pit…that’s style!

We’re at the end now, the final obstacle; the Cargo Nets. I’m tired, I can’t breathe, and I’m scared. But, of course my sneaker lacing was loose (because the time chip was woven through the tie, giving me a reason to stop and try to get myself together. David’s just standing there, gently talking to me, telling me to relax, that I don’t HAVE to do the nets; but, funny thing, that made me want to do it more. Lace retied (any idea how hard it is to do that when your hands are shaking), I stood up, took a deep breath, and said “Let’s do it.”

We exchange a look, give each other a “thumbs up” and start climbing…he’s behind me so that I don’t have to be afraid of falling.  I’m climbing, I get to the top, and it’s do or die time now…I push myself up onto the beam that in practice had looked thin and weak, ready to collapse under me. Hardly! All the obstacles were were extremely safe; it was my own fear that had made me see it differently. I managed to get my left leg over! My heart was pounding, my hands shaking, and David said to me, “You’re doing it!  Do you want me to get to the other side to be there for you?”  And, my response surprised me; I said “No, I can do it.”  Then, he shouted, “GO AFTER THE GIRL IN THE PURPLE!”  And suddenly, rather than being afraid of the net, I’m more afraid that a perky 20-something is going to beat me! I went over the top fast, down the other side, and chased her down (to be honest, she got ahead on the final net and finished ahead of me). But, it wasn’t about beating her; it was that I had moved beyond my fear and could chase her. I’d done it, I’d broken through my OWN barriers…and I even beat David over the last two! As we’d done for each other all race, I waited for him, cheering him on; and we clasped hands, kissed, and ran through the finish together – wow, what a way to finish a race!

Done.  I’d made it; WE’D made it. We stayed at the finish, watching other people finish…one at a time, two together, a team of 5 helping each other. We weren’t the only ones who “got it” that this kind of racing isn’t just about winning; it’s about challenging yourself, working together, helping others along, and learning to accept help. I’ve always tried to make it on my own…to have David helping me was a totally new experience. And, to be able to help him was a bonus. There’s lessons here that we can carry into other parts of our relationship, and into how we interact with other people. Racing, it turns out, isn’t just about physical activity; it’s a metaphor for life. Four crazy-style events this summer, four different sets of lessons; four different chances to experience something new, to watch different people overcoming different types of obstacles. And, of course, some great scenery; the views from Wildcat, Sunday River, Stratton, and Shawnee were spectacular!  We’re hooked…we’ll be back next year!

Oh, and honey–don’t forget that I beat you in the Tough Mountain Challenge, and that you owe me that wedding ring!