#ghunders

It's been over six years since running my first race, a half marathon on a cold autumn day in Seattle. Within a year, I had added triathlon and mud runs to the list of events I had completed. Most recently, I competed in the Seattle Super Spartan as a member of the Beasts OCR team on April 23rd. Since doing the same old thing gets boring, this was my first experience taking part in the elite wave at a Spartan race.

When it comes to racing, there's a common feeling about days that don't end up as hoped. Even if you don't meet your goals and expectations, you can at least take away lessons to improve later performances. Upon reflection, I can safely say that day had plenty of opportunity for learning. Here are the subjects I hit in this article:

Who was I racing against and why did I think I could keep up with them?

What was the course and how should I have been preparing myself?

Which pieces of gear were helpful and what did I leave behind?

Unlike events I've done in the past, those who participate as elite athletes are segregated by more than just an earlier starting time. What makes elite Spartan racers different? It'd be great to say that we're a step above, or that we train more rigorously, or needed to qualify in some way to prove our worth. That'd be a lie. The only difference is that I clicked the button for the earliest time slot when signing up. Sure, most of the people I raced with that day were in great shape, and the sheer number of abs at the starting line was reminiscent of Zack Snyder's "300". The only thing that I can safely say was common among all of us was an extraordinary sense of self confidence in our physical fitness. There were even some people there who deserved to feel such confidence.

Let me take a moment to describe the first few minutes of obstacle course races and mud runs I've done in the past. I usually line up behind the front line of participants at the start. Everyone psyches themselves up with the requisite peacocking or macho displays. Then, they at a dead sprint at the signal of the start. I generally go at a comfortable 5K or 10K race pace (hard, but not so hard I can't speak a few words at a time) while people bolt past, and those in front get further ahead. Within 20 seconds, usually half of those who sprinted off the front have slowed to huffing crawl. Most of the remaining keep it up for about a minute more before I stroll by, leaving them red faced and gasping like a fish out of water. All but one or two are usually well in my rear view mirror by the first mile and the actual race for first place begins.

Sounds great, right? Well, the first 20 seconds went exactly as I expected. Instead of slowing down after that, the people in front of me kept up running. And some kept getting faster. Indeed, it turns out a lot of those people who I assumed to be overconfident were just confident. After holding down the afterburners for 10 minutes I realized that I was likely to be the one that would fade and need to slow down.

The lesson learned? These guys are fast. When it comes to the local 5K mud run I feel like a big fish in a small pond, but that's clearly not the case with Spartan races. Spartan is an international brand that attracts the best of the best. When a non-trivial number of your competitors are booking air travel to get to the venue, it's safe to assume you'll be up against some serious athletes. I am faster, stronger, more agile, and better at what I do than most people, but there are still plenty of racers faster than me. That's unlikely to change at a lot of the races I do this season. This lesson is best served with a heaping helping of humble pie.

Alright, so these dudes are fast. Oh, and plenty of fast ladies. I'm not ashamed of being beaten by four or five of those Amazonian wonders. Let's face if gentlemen, there's no shame in getting chicked as long as they're better athletes.

Anyway, what about the course? If you've ever seen or participated in an obstacle course race, then you'll be familiar with the format. There's lots of running punctuated by playground equipment for grownups. These "obstacles" are the 'O' in OCR (which stands for "Obstacle Course Race" if you're unfamiliar with the new trendiness). It turns out there are a few differences in the obstacles for elite racers at a Spartan event. Most importantly, we're all competing against each other unlike the "competitive" or "open" waves in which participants are encouraged to work together. That means it is inadmissible to receive or render assistance at any obstacle in an elite wave. Sorry, no teamwork here.

The first obstacle I knew would be trouble was the 8' wall. It is as simple as it sounds: Eight feet of vertical, featureless wood, and it's your job to get over it. As I approached this obstacle I started having flashbacks of my previous Spartan race.

(Flashback)

There I was in Temecula, throwing myself at the wall over and over again, my fingers barely reaching the top only to be flung away in my weak grip… and my only salvation was being pulled over by a girl sitting on top of the wall. The humiliation of needing help! The travesty of showing my weakness in front of everyone! The… comradery of using teamwork to accomplish your goals!

(End flashback)

But no! I practiced jumping! And I practiced grabbing stuff! This would be different! Right?

As it turned out, yes. I was able to vault high enough to wrap the tips of my fingers around the top of the wall on my first try. To give you an idea of how close it was, I firmly believe I would have failed if it were 8'1" tall. My first instinct was that it wouldn't be enough, but all those hours at the climbing gym and picking up friggin' heavy stuff to strengthen my grip paid off. I was hanging by three finger tips which was enough to haul myself up and over the wall. Barely enough. I'll be adding exercises to improve my vertical leap and grip for the rest of the summer.

Another unpleasant surprise came in the form of the sandbag carry. Yet another extremely simple obstacle: Pick up a sandbag from a pile of sandbags and carry it in a loop before depositing the sandbag right back where you got it. This is one I usually look forward since hauling a 40lb sandbag is a bit of a reprieve compared to running up and down hills. Unfortunately, I was waved off from my nice, familiar 40lb bags and pointed toward an unmarked bag. I didn't give it much thought as I reached for this unfamiliar black bag and attempted to walk away only got as far as my outstretched arms until I came to a violent stop. The bag appeared to be frozen in place, stuck to the top of the pile and clearly immovable. No, it turns out I'm just weaker than I had hoped. It took a concerted effort to heave the sandbag onto my shoulder without toppling over. That only lasted a few seconds before I had to resort to hugging the sandbag to my chest to avoid falling over. Instead of being a relaxing jaunt around the woods, this was an excruciating few minutes during which my ballast seemed to be getting heavier. By the end of the loop, I assumed the 60lb bag had somehow inflated to a good half ton. My wrists and forearms were completely drained by the time I was able to shuffle close enough to drop off the bag.

Lesson: Farmer's walk, more distance. And heavier. And do stuff to make my grip strength better. You can never have strong enough hands for a Spartan race.

I wanted to wrap up this section on a bit of a high note and talk about a pleasant surprise. The memory wall. Or the lack of one. That's right, us in the elite heat can't be counted on to have both strong bodies and minds. Thus, we were allowed to run right past the memorization obstacle and hurry along our merry way to the next physical challenge that we could mindlessly crash through with brute force.

Honorable mentions for other obstacles include the mud cliffs, the Hercules hoist, and the log crawl. The cliff was a new obstacle I'd not encountered in previous races and consisted of near vertical mud and dirt walls with ropes hanging down. They were kind enough to have massive foot divots dug into the wall and posed little challenge to an experienced rock climber like myself. It was a ton of fun to scale.

My relatively small size helped on the cliffs, but it was a hindrance on the Hercules hoist. It seemed to take several minutes of straining to move those weights a few inches at a time before copmleting. Luckily, all that grip training paid off and I was able to get through without any penalty burpees. My forearms were once again completely burnt, but it was a success. Mini-lesson here: Grip! Are you seeing a theme here?

Lastly, the log crawl was an obstacle revealed in the maps circulated online before the race. However, there was no mention of it in the Spartan guide, nor could I find anything about it from previous races. It remained a mystery of what a "log crawl" was until I approached it. It turns out the log crawl was simply a barbed while crawl crossed with babysitting, if your baby was a piece of wood. Not a huge struggle, but a slow one to get through.

Lastly, let's talk gear. Everyone has different goals and expectations from a Spartan race so there isn't a single perfect gear list that will apply to all participants out there. On the other hand, the right clothes and accessories can make the difference between a disaster and a really great experience regardless of what level of athlete you are.

One of the greatest parts of being on a team are the connections you get. GHUnders is a company in Washington that specializes in base layers for outdoorsy types, and I'm lucky enough to be sponsored by these guys. Their gear is premium stuff so if you're looking to pinch pennies, their stuff might be something to ask Santa Claus to deliver. At the elite level, though, I've been incredibly impressed with their gear in the few races I've used it in. If you're looking for the best, it's worth the investment. My setup at the Seattle Super Spartan included a pair of their shorts, cleat guards, and arm sleeves. I ditched the shirt at the last minute since the weather ended up being warmer than expected. Also, I was in the men's elite wave where shirts may as well be taboo. I won't comment on the shirt/shirtless policies for the women's elite heat.

Having comfortable feet is critical. Their cleat/guards covers meant for soccer players do a great job doubling as gaiters and calf sleeves. If you've ever been stuck with a rock in your shoe you know how terrible that can be. Stopping to pull a pebble out of a shoe is a major time sync so avoiding it in the first place is absolutely crucial. The covers wrapped around my shoes keeping everything out. Without the protection, debris in the shoes would have been inevitable with the rough terrain we were crossing. Additionally, the coverage of the ankles and calves are a boon for any race that includes a tyrolean traverse. Sliding a rope along your Achilles tendon can get painful if you don't have calf sleeves or tall socks. This race included a tyrolean and I was happy to test them out. This piece of gear has made its way onto my "must-have" list.

The arm sleeves are another great addition with a number of uses. First, there's the additional insulation if it's cold, and they can easily be rolled down to your wrists if you get overheated. Second, the provide protection for obstacles like the barbed wire crawl or Atlas Carry which can tear up your arms. Lastly, they make a great place to stow energy gels if you're like me and don't want to get weighed down with a hydration pack or, Heaven forbid, a fanny pack. At this race, I slipped one energy gel under the sleeve at my wrist for easy access.

I have a lot of experience with long distance running, triathlon, and cycling. This brings me to a touchy subject. One aspect of those sports that doesn't get much air time is how a little rub between the legs can result in the need to walk bow-legged for days afterward. I'm talking about chafing. Those shorts that GHUnders provided were invaluable for my future generations. I believe they treat the material for their clothes with the perfect proportion of science and magic, or something along those lines. The result is a cloth that pulls moisture away from the skin keeping you dry. This is one of the greatest, and most unique, aspects of the gear. No moisture, no chafing, no problem! This isn't to be confused with moisture wicking material that simply spread the wetness around so you get chafed slightly less over a larger area of skin.

Science! It's an amazing thing! If I've convinced you about how great this stuff is, I strongly encourage heading over the www.GHUnders.com and checking out what they have.

Moving on, I also wore some gloves for the race, the brand of which I will not be disclosing. "To glove, or not to glove," that's a frequent question in the OCR community. Well, I glove. There are the obvious benefits of hand protection and textured gripping material. The biggest downside is that they generally become useless and even burdensome after getting wet. Indeed, I came to the monkey bars during the race with muddy gloves and attempted to jump onto the first bar. To my dismay, the water-logged gloves made it like trying to hang onto a rigid eel. However, I took them off and it was like my hands were magnetic! I'll add "keeping your hands dry" to the list of reasons to use gloves in a race.

And that's about it. Notably missing was any hydration or nutrition besides the energy gel I had slipped in my sleeve. It was a push to get through the race in about 90 minutes with no more to drink than what was on the course. If you aren't completely performance oriented, then it's completely understandable to carry a handheld water bottle or hydration pack. However, it can slow you down or get in the way when trying to fly through some obstacles, like rolling under barbed wire or flipping over and sliding down cargo nets.

Some people might argue about performance degradation that comes with dehydration. It's certainly true that being chronically undernourished or dehydrated is bad news for your body. It turns out that proper hydration during exercise is more impactful for how you feel the next day than performance at that exact moment. If you don't believe me, take a look at how much elite marathon runners drink during the next Olympic games. Or scan the elite heat at your next Spartan race to see how many are carrying their own drinks. At this race, my performance that day was my primary concern so digging myself into a water deficit hole wasn't a concern. Sure, it meant I wouldn't be feeling great later that day, but my schedule in the following 24 hours allowed for plenty of guzzling various liquids.

That's the long way of saying I did not carry water onto the course. 90 minutes of hard racing, whether triathlon, OCR, or running, is about as long as I'd go without my own water. Anything longer and I tend to bring my own watering solution.

In case any of that has already left your memory, here's a quick recap of my day:

This was my first experience in a Spartan elite heat, and what an experience it was!

For elites, obstacles are hard and teamwork is verboten :(

Grip! It's important! Mine is great and I still want it to be better! More rock climbing, dead lifts, and walking around carrying heavy stuff.

GHUnders, a great sponsor and amazing clothes if you want the best, most comfortable stuff for racing. Or hiking or mountaineering or, well, pretty much anything outdoors that requires physical exertion.

Gloves. Take 'em or leave 'em. I'll be racing with them.

Hydration? Nah. I'm good. Feeling a little thirsty won't hold me back. Today, anyway. Tomorrow's a different story.