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Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Ten Commandments of World's Toughest Mudder: Part II

The guy in the red cap is doing it right.
Everyone else sucks
(4) Thou shall learn how to climb tactical ladders
Yup, those dangly nylon bitches are actually quite simple if you know how to climb them: reverse grip (palms facing towards you), stepping up wrapping your legs around and hooking them into the rear of the ladder. Coming into WTM, I heard horror stories of the "Rope a Dope" at Tri-State. People stuck, ass over backwards, trying to get up the ladders.

Come WTM time, once again, I saw the same thing at both sets of tactical ladders. [begin rage] On the first lap, I waited for 15 minutes at the bottom of the Massive Turd waiting for some dickwad to pull himself up the ladder. And he sat, spinning and spinning helplessly. It kinda reminded me of a fly in a spider's web. Except that this fly was giving me hypothermia from waiting for his ass to die. For the love of god, climb the effin ladder or get down so I can show you how its done [end rage].






(5) Thou shalt not underestimate the power of logrolling

No, we are not taking a nap. I wish.
At a certain point, an endurance race comes to choosing the past of least resistance: saving energy, and just getting through. While I have always been adamant about belly crawling through Kiss of Mud, Turd's Nest, Shake n' Bake, etc. But by the third lap, energy conservation became key. And my knees and hips were so mottled, belly crawling became an adventure in finding the one non-bruised spot.

Enter the power of the logroll.

Looking coordinated on the Turd

You all know you did constantly when you a kid. I used to climb to the top of really steep hills (we had those in Oregon), and logroll down like it was a professional sport. So while it may not look as bad ass, logrolling under those barbed wires or over that turd's nest is just plain sexy. I mean, smart. Next up: learning how to logroll uphill (damn you Kiss of Mud).


(6)  Thou shalt not get wasted the night before

One of the many leg-humping
attacks
I did not. And I felt great the next day. Others, however, thought shots of everclear limoncello were a perfect carbo-loading opportunity (*cough Joel cough*). Not getting wasted also prevents you from making an ass of yourself in front of 50 of your newest friends and fellow racers. And biting women's nipples. And dick-punching dudes you just met. Lesson: save the beer, tequila, and everclear shots for after the race. I mean, we are "athletes" after all, right?

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