Things I'll Miss About World's Toughest Mudder

After two years of participating in the World’s Toughest Mudder, I’m skipping it this year. My brain says it’s the right decision to make. It was never supposed to be an every-year thing. And it’s expensive. My brain tells me I have a mortgage, a wife and kids, responsibilities that come first. My brain also tells me I have a busted leg. I limp painfully walking through the grocery store. After trying to fix it myself for a month, today I made a doctor’s appointment. My brain says there’s NO WAY I could or should do World’s Toughest Mudder this year. And my brain is right.

But my heart . . . My heart is stubborn and illogical. My heart would give anything to be there this year, to see how far I could push it. My heart is a pain in the ass. And it tortures my brain.

I know there’s so many things I’m going to miss about World’s Toughest Mudder this year. For therapy’s sake, here’s a few of them:

-Sean Corvelle. His pre-race speeches have an amazing ability to amp you up and make you feel like you can take on the world. He’s at his best at World’s Toughest Mudder.

-That “You did WHAT?!?!” reaction people have when they find out why you’re limping after the race.

-The bonds you form with complete strangers.

-Moments like last year when, after rolling under the barbed wire, I stood up, felt dizzy and stumbled sideways and fell on my face. Then hearing a guy belly-laughing behind me and I turn to see Junyong Pak saying “You okay, man?” in between laughs. I’m okay, Pak. It’s just my pride.

-Being there when the next unknown elite talent (ala Ryan Atkins) emerges from obscurity.

-The inspirational feeling of watching people wait atop Everest or at the Berlin Walls to selflessly aid other racers.

-That moment after the sun goes down, when it’s dark, the temperature plummets (yeah, even in Vegas) and you have that feeling that sh#t just got real.

-That moment as the sun comes up, a little life creeps back into your weary body, and you know you’ve made it.

-The preparation that goes into competing at World’s Toughest Mudder – the gear planning, the food planning, the race strategy. The preparation that goes into it is half the battle, and half the fun.

- Leap of Faith. This obstacle scared the crap out of me every single time in 2013, playing to my fear of heights. All the times people had to repair it, its safety seemed uncertain. It had a narrow board, a big drop, and there were tales of several people who had broken fingers and ribs. But the fear and apprehension – and the brief moments of flying through the air – were exhilarating.

-The moment when the race is over and you look back and realize you’re capable of more than you thought.