There was a slight prod at my ribs as I wheeled around to see the crowd of people at the starting line bolt forward.  I had been looking for another of our party who was having second doubts about The Dash, when I heard the roar of the crowd.  My wife squealed with joy and jabbed me in the midsection as I pivoted.  There was no more time for searching, it was time to go.  The race had begun.

Participating in this event was only a thought in our heads three months ago.  We had seen the advertisement somewhere…probably on the internet.  All I can recall was my wife with that special gleam in her eye, the one that I can never say no to, and her proclaiming that we should run in this race.  “It’ll be fun, don’t you think so?”  This meant we were going to run it, so I had better get used to the idea.  In fact, before I could really think, or bring a rational thought to the table about the matter, our entrance fees had been paid, and she had convinced half of the people she worked with, including a person who worked at the daycare our children attended, to run in this event.  So, I was in.  Training schedules were made up.  Excitement abound!

Racing day, it’s racing day.  Racing day it’s racing day…YIKES!  We kind of trained over that period.  Ok, no we really didn’t.  I remember running a handful of times.  I even got out to the sand dunes once and really pushed the hills.  I remember thinking, “This is great! These dunes are a perfect simulation for what the real thing is going to have.”  Of course, I never made it out to the dunes again.  At that moment, I definitely wish I had, for I was chugging up a giant hill (very close to a 45° incline), along with four hundred others, toward a path that would lead into the forest.

The uniqueness of the Warrior Dash, the precursor to the Tough Mudder, is the obstacles you get to tackle while you motor through your 5K run.  Climbing over walls that are 15 feet high, balancing on planks, maneuvering through ropes and swinging tires, and sliding down almost mountainous hills in mudare the real alluring parts of the event.  Did I mention jumping over fire?  Add to that beer and turkey legs to devour after the race, plus music and a t-shirt, and you are talking about a great affair to be a part of.  The Tough Mudder is the next level, with more obstacles and running 10 to 12 miles instead of 3.  This, however, was our opening experience to these types of races, sometimes called obstacle racing, and I knew I wanted to stick my toe in so I didn’t find myself in a predicament I wasn’t capable of completing.  Warrior Dash would be first, and we’d see how that would go…

The forest was a free for all.  It had rained in the area the prior three days, so the ground was already a squishy mud zone to begin with.  Add to it that we were the 4pm heat, and there had been heats running every half hour since 8am, so the course was a disaster of sludge.  The path generally was narrow, with ankle deep mud.  Pools of water were taken at your own risk.  You might make a splash, or you might sink into a hole that was knee deep or worse.  Footing was impossible.  You might want to run, but the mud was so deep and the ground so slippery that you might take a spectacular digger if your gait picked up.  I fell in the forest trying to navigate down off of a fallen tree.  The entire running part of the course was an exercise in trying to maintain balance.  The breaks occurred at the obstacles.  In a race, where the impediments were supposed to be the challenge, it was the running of the course itself that overtook them.  The obstacles were the rest.  Once the race had concluding, all of my stabilizing muscles were aching with fatigue.  I’d remember the 15 foot wall fondly, though.

With all the mud carnage going on around me, my wife and I were better off then a lot of the poor souls who were trying to navigate through.  Our Vibrams provided exceptionally better grip then normal footwear.  At the beginning, a fellow combatant, remarked at me, “Vibrams, huh?  Very bold!”  When I passed him, he wasn’t amused.  Another person asked how the FiveFingers were holding up in this aggressive environment.  The truth was told.  Unlike many participants, I was not losing my shoes to the opportunistic mud.  It was not abnormal to see someone searching the muck trying to find their footwear that was yanked by the soupy ground.

Don’t get me wrong, though, it was slow going for all of us.  There were times on hills where we were all grasping for trees, branches, vines, anything we could find that would help us scale what now seemed like impossible terrain.  It was crazy…and exhilarating!  When it was over, and I was sliding down the face of the same hill that I traversed at the beginning and all I could think about was how glad I was that the FiveFingers were the shoe tool I chose.  I had completed my first obstacle race, with the woman who is the love of my life and my best friend, in the footwear that two years ago I didn’t know existed.  Triumphant…Tough Mudder may be next!