As I write this post I am in dry clothes that are so super soft and I have fuzzy socks on. I am sitting AND sitting in a cozy chair at that. Even though it is 32 degrees outside I am inside a warm house with central heat.
This was NOT the case at this very time two days ago. Two days ago - Saturday, Nov. 23, I was outside with about one thousand other Spartan Ultra racers trying our hand at completing a 30 mile grueling test of physical and mental strength.
Little backstory... back in 2017 my precious friend, Lisa, did a Spartan race and after she told me about it I remember thinking that was great for her, but I am not that type. I am a Ballet dancer by birth - Zumba lover - Holy Yoga and Pilates studio gal and I really didn't want to get muddy. Okay so I let go of any aversion to mud and I did my first Spartan with her in March of that year. I was HOOKED! It was the 5k distance and about 20ish obstacles and I had so much fun and it was so short that I got the bug and I couldn't wait to do another one. So in August of 2017 Lisa and I competed in the West Virginia Spartan and we completed our Trifecta! In other words, we completed the three distances of the Spartan. The Sprint (5k), the Super (10k) and the Beast (half marathon). Each distance has a bunch of obstacles and albeit it hard, we had a GREAT time and I am really really glad we did all three races in one weekend. So fast forward to a year ago when I met Mr. David Leach who came to teach at Paideia Academy and we co-coached the cross country team at Paideia. He knew I had done some Spartans and asked me to consider doing the Ultra with him. I guess he couldn't find anyone crazy enough to do this distance with him. Well, in typical Tara style I said "SURE!" with resounding enthusiasm. That was at the Paideia Christmas party last year. When I was warm and cozy and so sure of myself and my physical capacities....
That was all crushed two days ago.
So there I was Saturday morning 6:30AM as I stood with 1,000 other crazy Ultra competitors thinking "this is crazy, but it's going to be fun and I can do it". The announcer yells "WHO AM I?" to which we respond
I AM SPARTAN!!!!!
That part always makes me tear up and get a lump in my throat because I don't feel like a Spartan. I am a mom. I am a wife. I am just Tara... but today I am a Spartan as well and that is pretty cool.
So off we went. Up hills and down hills, through mud and woods, on and off obstacles, up ropes and down ropes, up and over walls, across monkey bars - (small caveat...I did not go all the way across the monkey bars, but David did ~twice!) and burpees. Around 11:45am we were coming to the end of the first lap and there it was... the dunk wall. We fully submerge ourselves in cold muddy water only to crawl up a slippery bank to the transistion area. That was when the shaking and quivering started and we continued to shiver for the next 6 hours.
Stopped for a short lunch break in-between laps and as I was opening or trying to open my bars I could barely grasp the packing because I was shivering so bad. I seriously thought I was dangerously close to getting hypothermic when I looked around at all of the other Ultra racers and noted that EVERYONE was shaking. Even the big tough guys who looked like seasoned Marines had hands that were quivering like a frightened, cold chihuahua in a veterinarian clinic. So I didn't feel so bad about being freezing cold because misery loves company. We didn't want to linger too long so we packed up our stuff and took off for lap 2. In the rain.
As we went up the hill for the second time we were trudging through thick, thick mud and that's when David said ... "This is going to take a while" My heart just sank. We had completed the first lap in about 5 hours and I thought it would be possible to do the same the second time around. However, i was very wrong and I was so discouraged. How could I make it even one hour in this freezing rain and I was shivering so violently that it was hard to put one foot in front of the other let alone complete obstacles that required a lot of upper body strength.
But then I was reminded of a man we met in the first lap who had already completed two Ultras earlier this year and he told us that if he can do it - anyone can do it. I was reminded of something David said during our first lap and that had to do with being grateful that we have the physical faculties to do this. There are some folks who are wheelchair bound or who have other limitations that would LOVE to do a Spartan, but physically can't. I was reminded of Colossians 3:17 that was printed on the back of another competitor's shirt. "and whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." I remembered a Keith Norman sermon I heard years ago titled "The Courage to do the New". I kept repeating the phrase 'embrace the suck' as I sloshed through the thickest cake batter like mud in the history of thick mud.
And then before I knew it we were at mile 20. Okay, we made it to Mile 20. I can make it to Mile 21 and that's what I had to tell myself over and over again. Oh by the way, my knee was KILLING me it hurt so bad. It was like all the fluid around my joint and the cartilage covering the bones of my right knee just disappeared and my bones were just pounding on each other. I just kept putting one muddy foot in front of the other and before I knew it I saw the sign Mile 25. 5 more miles to go and it was getting dark. Well in these conditions - steady rain, temperature dropping, darkness, shivering beyond control, sopping wet clothes, unbearable right knee pain, and mud - 5 miles would take a solid two hours.
It was at this moment that David asked me how I was doing and this was my breaking point. Earlier in the day when he asked me if I was okay I would cheerfully respond with "yes". Heck, ask me that question at any point in my life and I will genuinely and cheerfully reply with a heartfelt "I'm good!" I have an incredibly high pain tolerance. I gave birth to 4 very large babies WITHOUT any anesthesia. I broke my arm due to a mountain bike crash and then continued to ride the darn bike even with a broken arm. I have fallen off a two story roof only to have my fall broken by a grill and even though I cracked some ribs, I still managed to jump up and cheerfully exclaim that I was fine and dandy! (Long story...I'll tell you later).
But not this time.
This moment I was done.
I wanted to cry and I wanted to be warm and dry and free of pain. That's all I could think about. We were still five *&#@! miles from a building let alone the finish line.
So to answer David's question, "how was I doing?" Well, I told him that I wanted to cry and that I was in pain and this was really hard. For me to admit all of that and be real opened me up to the truth that I am weak. I don't got this. I think I freaked him out because he said to not cry - men don't deal well with blubbering women. So then I shut up and looked up. And ahead of me I saw the long trail up to the finish area. It was dotted with Spartans all slowly walking through the mud up to the end. I was not alone. I will never be alone. It was then that I realized that there were a lot of other people out there who were experiencing the exact same things that I was feeling. Pain. Cold. Uncontrolable shivering. It's like life. I admit I want to be so independent and not rely on others for help. Sure, I know that I won't do the job perfectly, but I will not be a burden to others. But here, I was physically and mentally spent and I had to rely on others if I was going to get through this. I leaned on Brother David's shoulder at a few points when my knee could not support me. I followed in the footsteps of the other Spartans who had trudged this path just moments before me. And somehow or another I made it to the top. We climbed the cargo net up and over and then finally to the last obstacle of a Spartan race - the fire jump. In every other Spartan I have jumped with great joy and enthusiasm over the fire logs. The professional photographers have captured these jumps on film.
Not at this moment. I grabbed David's hand and barely could lift my legs just to step over it. And I was done. I crossed the finish. I thought I would cry or collapse into a volunteer's arms, but I didn't. I was hypnotically walking and the one consuming thought was..
Dry Clothes.
But first David and I had to wait in a 30 minute line just to get our medals. I have never known extreme cold and violent shaking until now. At this point we have been shivering for 6 hours and to wait in a line - in the rain for a dumb medal was beyond me and I almost lost it completely. However, the guy in line behind us had the mouth of a sailor and he was letting everyone know exactly how he felt. So I didn't have to lose it - he helped me out by taking the words right out of my mouth.
Needless to say, I got the medal. I got into the female changing tent and I got dry clothes on. It was the closest place to heaven I have ever been. I went from the dark, rainy, cold outside to the inside of the tent where it was really warm (thanks to that AWESOME stand up heater thingy like the ones on restaurant patios), really bright and naked bodies everywhere. Incidentally, I have JUST finished reading The Great Divorce by CS Lewis and the celestial Spirits that come greet the main character are naked, but not in an obscene way. In a very pure and bright way is how these beings are described. So having that on my brain, I walk into this tent and I literally said out loud,
THANK YOU, JESUS!
So here I am. A few days post race and I have been mentally processing all of this without ceasing. I need other people. I repent of my pride that I have vainly held on to. It has done nothing for me. Lord, use this very difficult experience to be with others and help them 'embrace the suck' and have the courage to do the new. We must have courage to walk with, jog with, slosh, trudge, move forward with, but we have to be willing to help and be helped.
With.
Emmanuel, God WITH us. I know a little more about what that means now.
Thanks for reading this, and remember God is truly with you, Amen.
This was NOT the case at this very time two days ago. Two days ago - Saturday, Nov. 23, I was outside with about one thousand other Spartan Ultra racers trying our hand at completing a 30 mile grueling test of physical and mental strength.
Little backstory... back in 2017 my precious friend, Lisa, did a Spartan race and after she told me about it I remember thinking that was great for her, but I am not that type. I am a Ballet dancer by birth - Zumba lover - Holy Yoga and Pilates studio gal and I really didn't want to get muddy. Okay so I let go of any aversion to mud and I did my first Spartan with her in March of that year. I was HOOKED! It was the 5k distance and about 20ish obstacles and I had so much fun and it was so short that I got the bug and I couldn't wait to do another one. So in August of 2017 Lisa and I competed in the West Virginia Spartan and we completed our Trifecta! In other words, we completed the three distances of the Spartan. The Sprint (5k), the Super (10k) and the Beast (half marathon). Each distance has a bunch of obstacles and albeit it hard, we had a GREAT time and I am really really glad we did all three races in one weekend. So fast forward to a year ago when I met Mr. David Leach who came to teach at Paideia Academy and we co-coached the cross country team at Paideia. He knew I had done some Spartans and asked me to consider doing the Ultra with him. I guess he couldn't find anyone crazy enough to do this distance with him. Well, in typical Tara style I said "SURE!" with resounding enthusiasm. That was at the Paideia Christmas party last year. When I was warm and cozy and so sure of myself and my physical capacities....
That was all crushed two days ago.
So there I was Saturday morning 6:30AM as I stood with 1,000 other crazy Ultra competitors thinking "this is crazy, but it's going to be fun and I can do it". The announcer yells "WHO AM I?" to which we respond
I AM SPARTAN!!!!!
That part always makes me tear up and get a lump in my throat because I don't feel like a Spartan. I am a mom. I am a wife. I am just Tara... but today I am a Spartan as well and that is pretty cool.
So off we went. Up hills and down hills, through mud and woods, on and off obstacles, up ropes and down ropes, up and over walls, across monkey bars - (small caveat...I did not go all the way across the monkey bars, but David did ~twice!) and burpees. Around 11:45am we were coming to the end of the first lap and there it was... the dunk wall. We fully submerge ourselves in cold muddy water only to crawl up a slippery bank to the transistion area. That was when the shaking and quivering started and we continued to shiver for the next 6 hours.
Stopped for a short lunch break in-between laps and as I was opening or trying to open my bars I could barely grasp the packing because I was shivering so bad. I seriously thought I was dangerously close to getting hypothermic when I looked around at all of the other Ultra racers and noted that EVERYONE was shaking. Even the big tough guys who looked like seasoned Marines had hands that were quivering like a frightened, cold chihuahua in a veterinarian clinic. So I didn't feel so bad about being freezing cold because misery loves company. We didn't want to linger too long so we packed up our stuff and took off for lap 2. In the rain.
As we went up the hill for the second time we were trudging through thick, thick mud and that's when David said ... "This is going to take a while" My heart just sank. We had completed the first lap in about 5 hours and I thought it would be possible to do the same the second time around. However, i was very wrong and I was so discouraged. How could I make it even one hour in this freezing rain and I was shivering so violently that it was hard to put one foot in front of the other let alone complete obstacles that required a lot of upper body strength.
But then I was reminded of a man we met in the first lap who had already completed two Ultras earlier this year and he told us that if he can do it - anyone can do it. I was reminded of something David said during our first lap and that had to do with being grateful that we have the physical faculties to do this. There are some folks who are wheelchair bound or who have other limitations that would LOVE to do a Spartan, but physically can't. I was reminded of Colossians 3:17 that was printed on the back of another competitor's shirt. "and whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." I remembered a Keith Norman sermon I heard years ago titled "The Courage to do the New". I kept repeating the phrase 'embrace the suck' as I sloshed through the thickest cake batter like mud in the history of thick mud.
And then before I knew it we were at mile 20. Okay, we made it to Mile 20. I can make it to Mile 21 and that's what I had to tell myself over and over again. Oh by the way, my knee was KILLING me it hurt so bad. It was like all the fluid around my joint and the cartilage covering the bones of my right knee just disappeared and my bones were just pounding on each other. I just kept putting one muddy foot in front of the other and before I knew it I saw the sign Mile 25. 5 more miles to go and it was getting dark. Well in these conditions - steady rain, temperature dropping, darkness, shivering beyond control, sopping wet clothes, unbearable right knee pain, and mud - 5 miles would take a solid two hours.
It was at this moment that David asked me how I was doing and this was my breaking point. Earlier in the day when he asked me if I was okay I would cheerfully respond with "yes". Heck, ask me that question at any point in my life and I will genuinely and cheerfully reply with a heartfelt "I'm good!" I have an incredibly high pain tolerance. I gave birth to 4 very large babies WITHOUT any anesthesia. I broke my arm due to a mountain bike crash and then continued to ride the darn bike even with a broken arm. I have fallen off a two story roof only to have my fall broken by a grill and even though I cracked some ribs, I still managed to jump up and cheerfully exclaim that I was fine and dandy! (Long story...I'll tell you later).
But not this time.
This moment I was done.
I wanted to cry and I wanted to be warm and dry and free of pain. That's all I could think about. We were still five *&#@! miles from a building let alone the finish line.
So to answer David's question, "how was I doing?" Well, I told him that I wanted to cry and that I was in pain and this was really hard. For me to admit all of that and be real opened me up to the truth that I am weak. I don't got this. I think I freaked him out because he said to not cry - men don't deal well with blubbering women. So then I shut up and looked up. And ahead of me I saw the long trail up to the finish area. It was dotted with Spartans all slowly walking through the mud up to the end. I was not alone. I will never be alone. It was then that I realized that there were a lot of other people out there who were experiencing the exact same things that I was feeling. Pain. Cold. Uncontrolable shivering. It's like life. I admit I want to be so independent and not rely on others for help. Sure, I know that I won't do the job perfectly, but I will not be a burden to others. But here, I was physically and mentally spent and I had to rely on others if I was going to get through this. I leaned on Brother David's shoulder at a few points when my knee could not support me. I followed in the footsteps of the other Spartans who had trudged this path just moments before me. And somehow or another I made it to the top. We climbed the cargo net up and over and then finally to the last obstacle of a Spartan race - the fire jump. In every other Spartan I have jumped with great joy and enthusiasm over the fire logs. The professional photographers have captured these jumps on film.
Not at this moment. I grabbed David's hand and barely could lift my legs just to step over it. And I was done. I crossed the finish. I thought I would cry or collapse into a volunteer's arms, but I didn't. I was hypnotically walking and the one consuming thought was..
Dry Clothes.
But first David and I had to wait in a 30 minute line just to get our medals. I have never known extreme cold and violent shaking until now. At this point we have been shivering for 6 hours and to wait in a line - in the rain for a dumb medal was beyond me and I almost lost it completely. However, the guy in line behind us had the mouth of a sailor and he was letting everyone know exactly how he felt. So I didn't have to lose it - he helped me out by taking the words right out of my mouth.
Needless to say, I got the medal. I got into the female changing tent and I got dry clothes on. It was the closest place to heaven I have ever been. I went from the dark, rainy, cold outside to the inside of the tent where it was really warm (thanks to that AWESOME stand up heater thingy like the ones on restaurant patios), really bright and naked bodies everywhere. Incidentally, I have JUST finished reading The Great Divorce by CS Lewis and the celestial Spirits that come greet the main character are naked, but not in an obscene way. In a very pure and bright way is how these beings are described. So having that on my brain, I walk into this tent and I literally said out loud,
THANK YOU, JESUS!
So here I am. A few days post race and I have been mentally processing all of this without ceasing. I need other people. I repent of my pride that I have vainly held on to. It has done nothing for me. Lord, use this very difficult experience to be with others and help them 'embrace the suck' and have the courage to do the new. We must have courage to walk with, jog with, slosh, trudge, move forward with, but we have to be willing to help and be helped.
With.
Emmanuel, God WITH us. I know a little more about what that means now.
Thanks for reading this, and remember God is truly with you, Amen.
1 comment:
Wow! Unbelievable! So proud of you, girl! Talk about perseverance 💖🙏
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