The Lone Super Spartan

It was a thrice-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My good amigo *The Betrayer* loves running muddy obstacle courses, so he jumped at the opportunity to run the Super Spartan Obstacle Course Race, which was for quite a hefty price tag. Alas, he was the only one out of his friends who signed up, and later on, more attractive engagements presented themselves for that weekend time slot, so he decided not to run it anymore. *The Betrayer* asked me if I wanted to go in his place, free of charge. What were the odds of someone paying for an event, and then backing out and allowing someone to replace him? Not only was I going in his place, but nobody was going with me. I would be attending Wolfe’s Pond Park alone.

In the past obstacle course runs I’ve done, I’ve always ran it with a team. We often waited for each other and even crossed the finish line together. Going by myself presented me a unique opportunity to go at it full blast and test my own limits. I calculated the odds of all of these events occurring with this coming to fruition. The conclusion I reached? The number of opportunities one would have similar to this in an average American lifespan? It came out to thrice in a lifetime; I’ll take it.

Parking was scarce so I parked quite a ways away from the venue. I brought my phone to navigate my way to the event, knowing that I would have to go back to the car again later to drop off the race packet stuff, t-shirt, as well as my phone. However, once I registered and everything, I learned that we would get our t-shirt after the race, and there really was nothing to bring back to the car except my phone. It was a long walk back, and I had three plastic bags with me already… two of which were Ziploc bags.

Last time I ran in the mud, we put the car keys inside two plastic bags, and they did not get wet at all and were fully functional afterwards. I thought, if I kept my phone in THREE bags (TWO of which were Ziploc), it will certainly be dry and be fully functional after this muddy water run, so that is what I did. I was antsy to start running and did not want to walk all the way back to the car and then back to the race.

The race started off well. Like most other races like these, the first portion was an uphill run to weed out the weaklings, as well as those who blow their load right away. Up next was a soft sand run on the beach; now we’re talking! I passed quite a few people here, who would eventually pass me. Ah, the balance of life.

The entire run was quite a blur, but there are a few highlights I should mention. I recall running alongside a person wearing a headband and black tights. During the mud crawl under the barbed wire, the tights must have gotten caught and ripped, because every time I looked at this person, I caught myself staring at one bare cheek of a two-cheeked ass. It was like looking at a zebra; blackness, and then with a slight shift of gaze, it was complete and utter whiteness.

Yep, just like that, except less stripey and more solid.

I remember watching this person climb over a wall as I yelled out encouragement. I wasn’t sure if this was a man or a woman at first… the tights and curvy nature of the body told me it was a woman, but the short hair headband style shouted out “man!”

Come on... that can be a man or a woman...

At first, I made up my mind that it was a woman, but later on I decided it was a man. It was not until later when we met again and I gave her a high five or pound (can’t remember which), and said “Good job man” that I concluded that she was a young lady. The “thanks” she responded with in her delicate lady voice was all the proof I needed. She was an inspiration to me during the race; she could have quit because half of her bare ass was showing, but she was a champion and plowed on through, leaving a solid memory of half a pasty white ass for those trailing behind her (like me).

Parts of the race had us runners crawling through an underpass filled with water connected to a sewer. I confidently went through, knowing my phone would be safe. We waded waist-deep through muddy water, ran through mud, did everything imaginable through mud, with certain exceptions. At one point during one of the long trail run portions, I felt it was a good time to slow down and take a little break. If I was going to take a little break, why not check if my phone was working? The first sign of my Blueberry’s doom for me was trying to press a button; it would not even compress. Uh oh. (I’m guessing the water somehow sucked some of the buttons in so that I couldn’t even press it). I had not turned my phone off, so I tried pressing all the other buttons to see if the black screen would light up. Alas, no, it did not. Hundred(s) of dollars, down the drain. I spent a good minute or two mourning over the loss of my phone.

I took my time to dwell on it, and then went on with my life. I wasn’t going to let this setback ruin my race; sure I may have added a few extra minutes to my time in my short depression, but I still had to go at it, and hard. Before the race, I was excited to see how I would do in the race if I really pushed myself; just because my beloved Blueberry smartphone was dead did not mean I was going to trudge through the rest of the race dejectedly.

Fortunately there were many water stations during the race, so runners could keep hydrated. Unfortunately, sometimes these water stations can be misleading. At one point, I went to a water station and continued on with the race, only to realize I had left the trail path and was walking among the suburbs of Staten Island. It took me a good minute before I realized I had went the wrong way, and started heading back, where the water station employees were motioning to me where appropriate continuation for the race was located.

Obviously, many parts of the race were physically challenging. The most challenging parts were the long mud runs. You would be running on muddy uneven ground and you would try to go as fast as you possibly could but it wouldn’t be very fast because not only was the ground extremely slippery, but the uneven ground with rocks made you prone to roll an ankle. The desire for self-preservation would hold you back from going FULL full speed.

The mental challenge was immense. I had no idea how much of the race was left, so I had the dilemma of pushing myself just the right amount. If I walked, I faced the fear of walking to the finish line with everything left in the tank. If I all-out sprinted it, I faced the fear of burning out far before the race was over.

Seeing as how one had to go through mud, water, and everything in between, it was only natural to have rocks get into your shoes. When this happens, one has to make a decision: Continue running with the pain and brave through it, or stop and get the rocks out.

I ran with the pain for quite some distances. Eventually, I felt that the pain was making me go slower, at which point I stopped and removed the most troublesome rocks. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until more rocks made their way under my feet and inside my shoes again, which meant I had to run with the pain again. Though it hurt physically, it was a mental triumph to keep going despite the pain.

The whole time I tried to keep a good jogging pace at the very least. I motivated myself by telling myself that *The Betrayer* was counting on me. I had to do it for my friend, my people. There was NO room for walking during an obstacle course like this; I knew that the race would be won or lost on the trails. The obstacles were easypeasy, if you weren’t going reasonably hard on the running, you weren’t going to do well, period.

Towards the end, we ended up running on the beach again. Unfortunately, I started cramping in my left quadriceps and biceps femoris, making running very difficult. I was forced to walk as fast as I could on the sand, keeping my memory of *The Betrayer*’s with me the entire time.

At last, I saw the familiar warriors with gigantic Q-tips at the finish line. They were my last obstacle. There were three people ahead of me so I quickly formulated a strategy. I would hide behind them and let them take the brunt of the punishment and distract the Q-tip gladiators while I escaped unscathed.

It wasn’t until later that it hit me that this was a stupid plan. I should have just ran past those three people and finished ahead of them. I realized this too late, as this thought came into my head just before they crossed the finish line. The gladiators did very little damage to me and I was all smiling when suddenly I thought “… Wait…” and then “FUCK!” just as the people ahead of me finished.

Overall, I went pretty hard for this race, but I feel I could have gone harder. I am disappointed that I did not bring honor to *The Betrayer*’s family name, but suchness is life.

Cheers