Day After World's Toughest Mudder Hangover

No, not like booze hangover. I wish. Back to work, back to the grind, and thanking the higher powers I'm a desk jockey. Sitting is the only thing that doesn't kill me right now. I need a dog to go fetch my print jobs from the copier.

I always like to mull over races for a few days to let it all sink in and organize my thoughts, so that will happen at some point.

But let's get to the not-so-important and meaningful things: the "random thoughts" edition. So in no particular order:

The Gearwhore Edition: Cold-Weather Racing

Goodbye, warm-weather racing

It's that time of year again. The time when I dig out my boxed up hats, gloves, snow boots, and full-length down coat. The time when I mournfully put away my bikinis and sundresses. The time when the box is freezing for the 6am WOD. And the time when racing becomes a whole lot more...painful.

Gone are the days of racing in spandex shorts and a sports bra. The days of beanies, smart wool, compression gear, and yes--wetsuits, have arrived.

F*ck.

How World's Toughest Mudder Ruined My Life

Excelling at 2nd, again. Actually, this
was the beginning of excelling at 2nd.

The second ever World's Toughest Mudder is rapidly approaching on November 17th. It's not technically a perfect one-year anniversary, since TMHQ moved the race up a month this year, but on that day, it will be 11 months since the beginning.

The beginning, you say? Ah yes, the beginning of the descent into the world of obstacle racing, adventure racing, endurance racing, and all kinds of idiocy.

The Trouble with R&R

It's "Active Recovery Week" here at my Crossfit box, and I am irrationally angry about it.

Burpee rest is the best

All I want to do is throw heavy shit around. I wake up cranky. I go to bed cranky. I'm pissy-pants at every turn. Just give me a barbell and a hero WOD and no one gets hurt.

Perhaps it's this mental/emotional breakdown relating to a bit of rest and recovery is showing me that, of anyone, I need it the most.

Spartan Ultrabeast: The Happiest Place on Earth

The winners have been declared, the legs have become mobil-ish again, and the bruises and scrapes have begun to heal.

Beast and UltraBeast medals

And all I can think is "Woo, let's do it again!"

That was fun. No, seriously: SO much fun. Let's run up and down mountains every weekend.

Depending on who you ask or whose Garmin you go by, the Ultrabeast ranged from 28-32 miles, and somewhere between 15,000-20,000 feet of elevation change. My chip time read 8 hours, 35 minutes: 2nd place female for both the Beast and Ultrabeast.* A little under 4 hours for the first lap, and a bit slower on the second (ha--go figure. Negative splits here would be damn near impossible). Here are some interesting stats on the course, btw.

UltraBeast Eve Eve Non-Sequiturs

As I sit in an Epsom salt bath, the random musings of a brain on overdrive:

Probably should have laid off the
clean & jerks.

• Grape Pedialyte is the bomb.
• Ironic that this is my first "real" Spartan Race. (Death Race not included) Most people work up from a Sprint, I work down from the Death Race.

How far we've come

I'm not big on anniversaries. They always seem to forced, so artificial, to me. Then again, I'm also a sentimental person. I enjoy milestones. I enjoy reflecting on progress that has been made in a defined period of time. So, by that reasoning, maybe I should like anniversaries.

I'm overthinking it again.

I suppose I have an imperfect anniversary coming up this weekend: the Wisconsin Tough Mudder--the obstacle race that started it all for me. Imperfect, because it took place in July last year. So call it my "one-year and two month" anniversary into obstacle racing.

[Aside: holy hell, has it only been that long?! Perhaps it's because multiple 24+ hour races have taken years off my life, but I feel like I've been at it for much longer than a little over a year. Perhaps I should cool it on the 5-hr energy and N.O.-Xplode.]