When I found out that Miyoko did a Tough Mudder I was beyond impressed and I wanted her to share her experience with all of you in hopes of inspiring you to do something similar. I signed up for a Warrior Dash on October 26th, and Miyoko’s experience makes this sound like a walk in the park!
Read her story and be inspired!
It was my 55th birthday, and there was to be no birthday cake, no wine, no friends over for a celebration. Instead, my husband and I arose before dawn and left our cabin in the low Sierra and headed up to Lake Tahoe. We weren’t planning a day of boating on the calm September waters. But we were planning for fun: a physical challenge of the unexpected – Tough Mudder.
When we got to North Star, we discovered thousands of people who had gotten up even earlier. Our official 8:45 start time turned out to be more like 11:00 am as we navigated our way from the parking lot two miles away through the long lines of registration. Prepared to be covered in mud and electrocuted, our first challenge just 2 feet beyond the starting line was an 8-foot wall to climb over. Tough Mudder is a challenge, not a competition, and teamwork is paramount, so people helped each other, giving boosts to those that couldn’t pull themselves over. I had been practicing wall runs at my CrossFit gym, however, so I was determined to make it over myself. And I did – a couple of steps allowed me enough momentum to place my foot high enough on the wall that I could catch the top and hoist myself over. I was a 55-year-old vegan, and I was out to prove to myself that I had it in me!
Next, a two-mile run up what seemed like a couple thousand feet ensued. And then we faced another 10 miles with 30 or so obstacles, ranging from ones that simply got you dirty and tested your fear of the unknown, like crawling through a pitch-black tunnel through the mud, to jumping off a plank into icy cold, murky waters 30 feet below, to diving under a wall only to emerge in a pool of electric green water filled with ice cubes. Then there were the obstacles that I feared the most: electrocution. The first one involved crawling through the mud on your belly under live, hanging wires that would zing you in your face. As I watched people getting shocked as they crawled through, I wondered if this was the first obstacle I should skip (participants can skip obstacles if they are not comfortable). But my husband wouldn’t let me off, and I dropped to my belly and began to slither through. I realized that if I just kept my face in the mud and never raised my head, that I could avoid electrocution, and that is exactly what I did. I emerged at the other end with a mud mask (not sure if that was responsible for my glowing skin the next day), but I was not shocked once.
But the obstacles I most looked forward to were the ones that challenged one’s physical prowess. Like the Berlin Walls, a couple of sheer walls probably 12 feet high, one after the other, that needed to be climbed over. This skill is ever so useful, because you never know when you might be cornered in a dark alley and need to get over the wall at the end to escape (you see it in movies all the time). It was so crowded that day that the lines were right up to the walls, and there was no room to get a running start to run up. So everyone was basically helping to hoist each other over to some extent, some people getting a lot more help (from the top as well, as those that made it to the top dropped hands to pull people up) than others. I was determined to get as little help as possible, so after my husband helped me with a little boost to grab the top, I relied on pull myself up and over. As I threw my legs over the wall, I heard hoops of cheers from the women in line: “Good job! You go, girl!”
There were greased monkey rings on an incline to get through, a narrow ledge to walk across, logs to carry and run (they were actually much lighter than they looked), and a net wall to climb over. More than a couple of times, I fell into the water below. Luckily, it was a hot day, and I almost looked forward to falling in. Toward the end, we arrived at a stretch where you had to carry a partner. Everyone scrambled to find a partner their size, but my husband said, “Let’s just carry each other.” Easy for him to say – he weighs 60 pounds more than me. But with no other partners left to carry, I was stuck with him. And so I carried him piggy-back a hundred yards or so before we switched. Now I know that if I ever had to carry someone out of a disaster, I could. Hey, it’s good to know you have these skills.
The final obstacle was one quick run through live, dangling wires. I had managed to get through 30 or so obstacles without skipping any of them, so I stood for a few minutes thinking that I would be able to live with myself if I just skipped this last one. Groups of people held hands and braved it one last time, sprinting through the wires, some falling down from shock, and others making it through. “This is just plain stupid,” I thought, and was prepared to just walk around and get my Tough Mudder t-shirt. But something inside me wouldn’t let me. I suddenly found myself running through. And then I felt it. I went down. No, it wasn’t fun getting electrocuted! I lay face down in the mud trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I finally decided just to crawl through and avoid the rest of the wires when a kind soul came through thinking I needed help up, grabbing my hand. The shock went through my body again. “Don’t touch me!” I screamed. Must have scared him – didn’t mean to, but he took off. People left me alone after that, and I finished the last obstacle on my belly caked in mud.
After being hosed down (yes, hoses are pointed at you and the mud is sprayed off at high pressure), we grabbed our stuff and headed down to Truckee for a meal. Boy, did that beer taste good. Yes, it was finally time to relax. What a way to celebrate my birthday!
