TOUGH MUDDER NEW ENGLAND: A DAY OF EPIPHANIES

I love mountains because mountains tell the truth.

You can slay mileage on the treadmill, set new PRs on each Crossfit routine, conquer 50 miles on a flat Tough Mudder course that calls itself the "World's Toughest." And along the way you might convince yourself that you're in really good shape. That you're a beast. That you can just waltz onto any obstacle course on two day's notice and crush it. Even crush it multiple times.

And then a course like Mount Snow, Vermont brings you back to reality like a punch in the face.


No matter what kind of shape you believe you're in, once you're on a mountain your true shape will be revealed. And you might not like what you find.

Such was the case on May 31 at Tough Mudder New England. When a schedule conflict unexpectedly evaporated, I found myself suddenly free to run Tough Mudder New England on two day's notice. I was psyched, as it was a chance to do two laps again on a TM course that - thanks to its mountainous terrain - is one of the toughest in the country. I did two laps back in 2012, but several beers and no food between laps made that second lap a struggle. This time I would fuel right and kick ass. I ignored the fact that in 2012 I trained by basically living at a nearby ski slope for months. This time, I hadn't touched any elevation since October. But no problem. I'd done 50 miles at World's Toughest Mudder in November, so 20 miles at Mount Snow should be a breeze.

I'm usually the guy who quadruple-checks everything he's packed. So I knew I was in trouble the night before when I arrived at the cabin I was staying at and discovered I'd left all my clothes at my home, three hours away. It was pushing 10 at night, so everything near Mount Snow was closed. And all I had was a T-shirt and jeans. Luckily, a friend had an extra pair of shorts and a shirt. He's much larger than me, so it looked like I was in a nightshirt. But it would do the job.

I stayed up late, later than usual the night before a race, and was dragging that morning when I toed the start line. I figured I'd use the first two miles as a warm-up, and my body would kick in and my energy would come. It never did. I struggled at obstacles I usually kill, obstacles like Blades of Glory and Berlin Walls. I usually fly down the Mount Snow slopes; this time I just couldn't get my body into gear. I made it over the rope walls, but struggled. And rope climbs are usually my strongest obstacle. That's when I knew I just didn't have it. So I told myself I'd just do the one lap, take my time and enjoy myself.

When I came to TM's new obstacle Human Pyramid Scheme, I decided I'd hang out for awhile and just help people. And I loved it. Loved the teamwork, the feeling of helping out others. It was such a satisfying feeling. And at that moment I regretted not running with a team.

After the Human Pyramid Scheme, I had more energy than I'd had all race. I ended up finishing the course at 11, after starting at 8. Part of me considered going for that second lap. Part of me kicked myself for spending so much time at Human Pyramid, thinking I had plenty of time for a second lap. But I was good. I'd realized a few things on the course:

A.) The feeling of comraderie on Tough Mudder courses is truly special. I'll scratch my competitive itch with Spartan Races and World's Toughest Mudders. But I'll be doing future regular Tough Mudders as part of a team.

B.) I will never again be so foolishly arrogant that I underestimate any course again - especially a course as brutal as Mount Snow. There is no comparison between a flat course and a mountainous course. If I'm going to tackle such a course on just two days notice again, I'll be sure to always put in the hill work as a regular part of my training, like it used to be.

C.) I have the Vermont Spartan Beast coming up in September. If I show up unprepared like this, I'm going to die. Better get my ass to the hills.