65 days ago, my Mentee R and I were watching fitness videos and came across the Tough Mudder. This is a 10-mile course, with 20 obstacles along the way, involving heights, slippery slopes, mud, water, electricity; everything but fire. "We should enter that!" we exclaimed. A minute later: "Oh wow, it's in March!" I was about to turn 50, and looking to set new fitness goals, so we entered!

I haven't run competitively since I was in High School Cross Country in the early '80s. However, my work and hobbies are very physical, and if I can hike miles uphill in the snow, throw car doors into an 8' roll-off, lift a 16' trailer hitch onto the ball, and wield the biggest rental tiller and trencher they make for a whole weekend; this should be easy, right? Wrong! Honestly, I found that I could barely run a block without wanting to stop, and my performance on the ladder bars at the park proved embarrassing. I had my work cut out for me, and began working out in earnest.

This weekend was the big race!

R arrived late, so we had to leave straight for the venue, with me wearing polyester work pants and a cotton shirt. This proved serindipitous; many people in shorts wound up with banged up knees and scratched legs. The only time I noticed was in the "Augustus Gloop" obstacle, where you climb up a skinny pipe with a firehose spraying down over you; my legs felt heavier with each step up.

We arrived at the starting area with five minutes to spare before our wave left. It was a varied crowd of racers: many workplace and friend teams in matching shirts, lots of people in their 20s, but a notable number my age or older. After an annoying motivational speech, the race was on!

I started near the back of the pack and set a steady pace. Soon I was passing early pussy-outers, already stopping to walk not much farther along than that block-I-couldn't-run two months prior. After rounding a curve, we could see the race leaders coming toward us after a switchback. In second place by a wide margin was R in his bright yellow shirt, running like the guy on the 5 hour energy drink bottle. "Pace yourself, fool!" I thought as he rounded another curve and wasn't seen again for a time.

After an obstacle or two and some switchbacks on relatively level ground, the course turned up one of the many 400-foot hills around the venue; this is where the first racers started dropping out. Some developed cramps that resolved at least one sent his teammates along the way. Teams that tried to stay together were badly bogged down by their slowest members; the wise ones paired off by pace. People told me they'd run the Oregon course and it was nearly flat; Glen Helen includes several motocross tracks and trails into the mountains, making it a particularly good venue for this race.

Near the top, I came upon R sprawled next to the track breathless. He'd pushed himself too hard too fast and felt like he was having a heart attack or something. I stayed with him for a time, monitoring his pulse and giving encouragement. Soon he was up and ready to continue. I lost him on the downhill when he paused with a woman who twisted her ankle and was waiting for a medic.

By mile 2, the wave was pretty well spread out. It was interesting the way you'd find yourself running with the same person or group at different parts of the race, and also interacting with someone for a ways but never seeing them again. The people running were mostly friendly and helpful to their fellow racers; there were many interesting if breathy conversations along the way. I met two other guys near my age who also wanted a challenge. One guy perhaps in his 20s explained that this was a New Year's resolution, and that he'd already lost 40 pounds training. You wouldn't know it looking at him, he looked fit! I asked if he was on Reddit and he said yes; asked if he ever read The Red Pill, he said he hadn't. I told him to check it out- fitness and self improvement! Then we reached a downhill and my long legs were at their best; didn't catch the name but hi, brother!

I started noticing, some people were bypassing the obstacles, and some were even cutting switchbacks! I'm looking at YOU, mister flaming bandanna and wraparound sunglasses, whose dry form I passed several times but never the other way around. I think R did too, because he mysteriously ended up ahead of me, having just finished one of the water obstacles as I was entering the line. ಠ_ಠ Somme parts of the course weren't well-marked; more than once I saw groups headed the wrong way as other racers ignored their plight; I took the initiative to summon them back onto the correct course.

Some of the obstacles had rather long lines, and I noticed many teams got bogged down waiting for their slower teammates as I solo'd over them, helped three others up if needed, then was on my way. They'd pass me between obstacles, and I'd leave the next one ahead of them. I lost a chunk off my thumb knuckle on the edge of one of the slippery boards helping my third guy up; a course photographer got a good grinning bloody thumbs-up shot shortly after.

Near the halfway point came the split for the Half and Full course. The next obstacle for full mudders after that was the Arctic Enema, where you plunge into a pool of continually added ice. The sun disappeared behind ominous rain clouds and a chill headwind blew down the canyon afterward. Soon the track turned for a particularly steep and rocky ascent up another 400' hill, and the ice was forgotten as calories were burned.

Near the top of the next 400' hill, I came upon R sprawled on the side again, this time his knee had given out. After some delay, I helped him over the slope and down the other side, which conveniently placed him near the start/finish area. I continued on. At this point, the track went up and down the 400' mountains a few more times, then waaay off into the distant far slope of them before looping back. The obstacle I was most concerned about was placed near the END of the 10-mile course: the Funky Monkey. This is an ascending ladder bar, leading to big turnable giant "steering wheels," and a descending straight bar, with fluorescent green water underneath. About half the people didn't make it, splashing noisily to my left and right, but I made it across which was good because I didn't want to be soaked again at the end of the race.

The last obstacle was Shock Treatment, the one with the shocky wires above and mud below. I made it most of the way through, going, "Ow! Fuck! Ow! Fuck!" to the delight of the spectators. At the last row of hay bales, I got a particularly strong ZOT! as I lept over, resulting in a messy faceplant into hay-mud. The last 200' to the finish line after that was tough: My ankles were shot, my feet felt like they'd been through Bastinado, and the last electrolytes were used up giving incipient cramps. My time was 4:05, including waiting in lines, helping and encouraging other Mudders, and assisting R. Next year I want to get it down to 2:something!

R was wrapped in a medic blanket, happily staring up at the ass of one of the volunteers on a tall obstacle. His knee was barely functional; off we limped to the parking shuttle. The bus was full, and everyone was in a happy, punchy mood. It would be two days before I could even touch my right calf; my GF was impressed and gave me a great massage that night, and much more the next morning. "Well, thanks to you, now I'm a real mudder fucker!" she quipped.

There are tough mudder races around the USA and in other countries. I highly recommend the experience if there's one near you. Tip: Visit the website but don't buy; soon 25% off promotional codes will start following you around the internet if you're not running adblock.

For the critics:

  • I don't work for Tough Mudder.
  • Several people expressed disdain for this race when I first posted about it. If this is you, post a FR about the better races you've run instead. Iron Man, Spartan Run, Full Marathon, Triathlon, tell us about it!

Lessons learned:

  • Competition is great; I haven't raced since high school so long ago
  • You might be pretty fit, but training for and running a race like this gets you out of your routine and discovering muscles you didn't know you had
  • Fulfilling ambitious goals requires effort and determination that is down to YOUR initiative. Plenty of potential excuses- nobody else signing up with me, business and relationship demands, shoulder injury, illness- but I did it!
  • There are opportunities to open conversations and take leadership initiative even in seemingly inauspicious circumstances
  • Sex the night before and morning after the race: Take care of your body through fitness and your mind and game through TRP and life remains great at age 50 and beyond!

Hope to race with you next year!