Success . . . in Disguise

This past January I wrote about having achieved a goal of walking 1000 km in 2018, and I alluded to another goal I had set for myself, indicating I’d elaborate later. That goal was to participate in a Spartan Sprint in the summer. “Spartan” is a brand of obstacle course race (OCR) involving a run punctuated by various challenging obstacles requiring mental and physical fortitude, balance, flexibility, and determination. A “Sprint” denotes the shortest distance of Spartan race – 5 kilometres. A race of that length includes 15-20 obstacles that one must successfully conquer. If one fails, one is penalized by having to perform 30 burpees – an intense full-body exercise from a squat to plank to pushup to explosive jump. They are exhausting and comprise an excellent total body workout. I had toyed with the idea of attempting one of these courses for quite a while but was too intimidated until a friend signed up and thereby bolstered my courage to take the plunge. I signed up in January for a race to be held on a rigorous ski-hill course in July. I had half a year to train. How hard could it be?

The Bucket-carry. A classic Spartan Race Obstacle

As with most new things I try, I enthusiastically jumped in, keen to be as prepared  as possible. I purchased a kettlebell, a pull-up/chin-up bar, a 5-gallon bucket and gravel to fill it, winter trail-running shoes. I found training routines online to prepare me, and leapt in with gusto doing my best runs through madly lumpy bumpy ice and snow. I purchased an inspirational and tough-love book called “Spartan Up!” by Joe De Sena, inventor of Spartan obstacle course racing. The book explained the background behind the creation of Spartan Racing, with a big emphasis on taking responsibility for one’s life; making healthy choices; overcoming not just physical obstacles, but everyday ones; not making excuses; doing the hard work; and the payoff for all that labour. I tuned in to the Spartan Up Podcast that explores success and the people who achieve it, no matter how they define ‘success’. I listened to a vast mix of interviews. From harrowing stories of seemingly superhuman strength, to tear-jerking stories of overcoming adversity, to moving tales of philanthropy – there was no lack of food for thought and motivation. I loved how the Spartan lifestyle and philosophy meshed so well with a number of my own values and goals.

“Spartan Up” Book by founder of Spartan Racing, Joe De Sena

There were a few frustrating set backs in my training that caused me to ponder how much to push myself. One was a sharp stabbing pain that developed in my shins, that I believe resulted from overdoing running so much on my toes in very bumpy, slippery winter terrain. And then there was the occasional standard cold that required some rest to recuperate. In the desire to push through obstacles, (often mental ones about my own perceived limitations), I really wondered how one knows when the push moves from healthy to actually dangerous. I did not personally ever stray into the danger zone, but listening to some of those interviewed on the podcast I had to shake my head hearing tales of foolish, dangerous pushing-to-extremes. Some examples include: brushes with hypothermia; such severe dehydration in an ultra endurance race that the liver and other organs were shutting down; continuing to try to run on a broken femur, to name a few.

On the other hand, I was invigorated when I pulled through a gruelling training session. I liked to think I was developing “grit”. Angela L. Duckworth says “Grit entails working strenuously toward challenges, maintaining effort and interest over years, despite failure, adversity, and plateaus in progress.” Being out in the cold, cold winter in the early morning while ‘normal’ people were warm and dry indoors made me feel like a champ. It was empowering maintaining that dead hang (gripping an overhead bar, simply holding your body weight up) for a whole minute. Lugging that 40 pound bucket of gravel back and forth in my back yard, then squatting with it made me feel like I was really doing something unique and special.

Doing the “Farmer’s Walk” with water-filled buckets (L) and a training session at OCR “Obstacle 101” (R)

In retrospect, those transient victorious feelings make me wonder about my true, initial motive for signing up to run the Spartan Sprint. On the surface, yes, I just thought it would be great to accomplish something different than the average villager. Now, however, I wonder if there were deeper drives. I am beginning to think I was trying to project a possibly fabricated self to others and me; a self I felt I could be proud of – a tough, no-nonsense, hardcore, intimidating persona. I participated in a course called “Obstacle 101” at a local OCR gym to get a some tips on how to address obstacles I couldn’t practice as home; scaling 6 and 7’ walls, climbing up a dangling vertical rope, to name a few. The gym owner said something remarkable at the very beginning of the session. He said that hatred is the worst motivator. Even if it’s self-hatred; not liking how you look in your clothes, for example, it will not be a lasting motivation. Rather, he encouraged us to seek enjoyment as a motivation. When a person does something for the love of it, that is a lasting motivation. I never would have suggested I hated myself, but I have a hard time fully embracing who I am. I now wonder, was there some dark impetus lurking beside my jovial desire to challenge myself?

As summer neared, a strange thing happened to my motivation: It shrivelled up and almost died. The mind game began in earnest. What I had completely failed to consider in my January sign up decision was that I do NOT cope well with heat. I wither in heat. I get brutal headaches when I push my body in the warm temperatures. I’d rather take a walk at -30°C almost any day than a walk on a smouldering, humid 30°C day. I started to think about insects,  how I abhor mosquitoes, and suspecting they would be out in droves to feast on sweaty racers. The reality that the course was at a ski hill began to sink in and I began to suspect that my hill training (running up and down a nearby defunct tiny ski hill) would be to no avail. It got so that I didn’t even want to exercise. I couldn’t wait until the race was over so I could get on with life and actually enjoy being active again. I thought I should have started training later so that I wouldn’t have grown so sick of it by summer. The whole concept of training was unpleasant for me. Clearly the training wheels were coming off.

Two days before the race I had a mishap. It was totally unnecessary and avoidable (as we often say of accidents in hindsight). From upstairs in our home, I could hear my husband was having trouble unlocking the front door upon his return from work. It was no big deal. He knows how to use a key. But I blazed down the stairs in my indoor sandals to “help” and somehow missed the last step, landing hard on the edge of my shoe causing an immediate ankle roll and I crumpled to the ground as the ankle couldn’t support my bodyweight (and momentum) on such a drastic angle. Rather than helpfully opening the door for my husband, he was instead greeted by the sight of me flying down the stairs and crashing in a writhing heap of tears and frustration. How unpleasant. And yet, even as I squirmed in pain, I was flooded with equal and conflicting parts frustration and relief. I knew by the feel of this injury, that I would have legitimate reason to miss the race. It was such an immediate and strange blend of strong emotions.

Needless to say, it was a standard sprain. I did all the usual proper treatments (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation), and eventually had it x-rayed to confirm that there was indeed no fracture. They said it would take 5 – 8 weeks to heal. Interestingly, it still bothers me at times. I could have transferred my race ticket to another event, but none were happening in my area for the year – except one on the day I was attending a wedding (and to be fair, that was only a month after the sprain so I don’t think my body could have handled the challenge so soon). I felt very disappointed with myself, yet, still relieved.

Believe it or not I’m still processing it a bit as the whole scenario has deep roots I have to work to trace to their source. I would still like to do a Spartan Sprint, but when I do, I’ll be more careful about the time of year I choose. Also, I need an ‘in-it-with-me’ training buddy to help kick me into gear when my motivation wanes. I was trying to avoid paying gym fees and hoping I could train on a budget with my own gear. In theory, training solo with your own gear is totally feasible, but a priceless benefit to gyms and clubs is the comradery and community support. For such a psychological challenge, such allies are not only nice, but necessary for me. Perhaps most importantly, I need to make sure I’m doing it for the right reason, and that I’m comfortable with not being a hero.

So I didn’t get to leap over the fire (the final obstacle in Spartan races) this year, and that’s a disappointment. But what a learning experience this was for me on a self-investigatory level! Was it a failure? Well I certainly did not achieve the goal, but that alone was a catalyst to take a much needed look inwards. And that might be considered a success. I will never know what the future holds, and as much as it’s important to roll with the punches and not give up when I don’t get what I want, I think I need to let myself live. That means I’ll have days I’m full of energy and others that I can hardly get through, but I do not need to beat myself up about it. I need to live honestly in the present, not merely remember the glory days of being young and energetic, nor looking eagerly ahead until difficult tasks are over. I can acknowledge I’m having a hard day, as long as I don’t let that feeling stop me from pursuing goals with as much energy and attention is healthy at that point. A big key in all this for me is slowing down and paying attention to what my body is saying. I’ve been far too oblivious for far too long. There’s a very profound spiritual side to it for me as well; waking up each day and expecting (not in a doomsday way, but just being aware) that there will be challenges, an enemy, if you will, who is seeking to trip me up and cause me damage in any way possible. Being on guard against negative/destructive thoughts, and keeping my mind in a healthy, rested, positive space is critical to leading an overcoming life.

As long as we have breath in our lungs, we all get to choose what we do with our moments. How will I respond to trials, disappointments, my own dark thoughts, and even successes? I can’t control anyone else or any circumstance, but I must take responsibility for myself. It is nobody else’s job to tell me what my body and mind are saying, but I must commit to listening to what they tell me, and I must respond wisely. If nothing else, it’s worth noting that what looks to be total failure on the surface, can in fact be the doorway to a whole new perspective and that, I believe, can be a success.

Fire Jump Obstacle at the end of each Spartan Race (I do not know the person in this shot).