It’s done, I survived, and I’ve napped for a good two hours since getting home - sounds like it’s about time for a Race Report (cue cheering and loud techno music).
A brief description of the Muddy Buddy format: 2-person teams run and bike over an approximately six mile long course. After each leg of the course, there’s an obstacle. At the obstacle, the biker drops off the bike, does the obstacle, and starts running. When the runner arrives s/he does the obstacle, picks up the bike dropped by the biker, and takes off. The race is divided into five legs, so one person ends up running three and biking two while his or her partner does the reverse. It’s a nifty idea, and Mike and I were excited to try it. Details on that try after the break:
We got into Richmond last night at around 5pm to pick up our packet - Mike came up from Fayetteville, NC, and I drove down from DC. We picked up some essentials (cheap sunglasses, etc.) at a drug store, had a nice dinner of barbecue (mmm, so good for next day racin’), and hit the sack (Mike at 11, me at midnight - darn the new Harry Potter release on the Muddy Buddy weekend!).
We woke up just after 6, got ready, and drove out to the race site. It was held at Pocohontas State Park, which I’d never heard of before (unsurprisingly, me not being from Richmond and all), but was just gorgeous - lots of tree cover, nice trails, open space for the exhibition, things like that. We arrived at 7:30 or so, wandered around the expo (Land Rover, Adidas, National Geographic Adventure, and a few others had tents there), listened to the pre-race meeting, and walked down to the starting area to get into our wave.
The starting times for various team types were staggered; the combined ages and sexes of the teams determined your class. Men under 55 started first, then Men 56-69, then Men 70-89. They were followed by Coed in the same three age divisions, then Women with the divisions. The last two divisions were Open masters (any combination over 90) and Beast (open, any team with a combined weight over 400 pounds).
We all got into starting order (”Bikes in the front, runners behind!”) and milled around, waiting to listen to the National Anthem. I dropped into the back of the 56-69 men’s section while Mike headed up to the front (heeding the PA-delivered instructions). While I was waiting, somebody walked up next to me - with a running prosthetic on one leg. He and I talked for a bit - it turns out he lives in Reston (just down the road from me), and was running the race alone (given that he’d have to switch prosthetics to switched from running to biking and then carry the running one with him while he biked). Nice guy - I’m interested to see where he finished (he’s a good triathlete, so he probably did pretty darn well).
So, just after 8:30, a startlingly loud cannon went off and the under 55 guys were on their way. Six minutes later, the cannon went off again and we were moving. At this point in the narrative, it might be useful to show the course map. Be sure to note the statement “Course is mostly flat on dirt or gravel roads.” It didn’t take long for us to realize that that was, at best, an optimistic view of the terrain. We were up and down hills constantly, with only a few flat stretches to break the seemingly endless climbs and descents. Not that I’m bitter or anything….
About half a mile into the first leg, we came to a stream with a small footbridge. In the spirit of the race, the bridge was blocked off and everyone was being directed through the stream. I ended up soaked to mid-thigh and got to run the rest of the race in squishy shoes (yay, squishy shoes), but it was a nice way to break the ice.
Later in the first leg (I’d guess at about a mile), we came up out of the woods and onto a road for a stretch. At this point, I started feeling like I’d run about five or six times further than I actually had. It was the same feeling I’ve been getting in all my runs over the past week and a half, and frankly I’m getting a little tired of it.
I walked for a couple of minutes, hoping it would pass (and knowing I had 5 miles or so left before I could quit), then broke back into a run to finish out the first leg. Back into the woods and up to a four-foot wall that we had to hurdle, then a quick search for the bike and into the second leg.
Biking was easy compared to the running, despite bigger and badder hills and a ridiculously long stretch of unbikable mud. I’d carry the bike over it, mount back up, and stall out within five feet. When I finally got to the second obstacle, Mike was waiting for me so I handed the bike over, muttered something about how I felt like crap, watched him take off, and turned to the next obstacle. This one was a cargo net, and I had fun on it - zipping up, over the bar, and stepping down on the other side… it almost made forget that I was going to have to run again. All too soon, however, the net was done and I was back on the trail.
More hills, more mud, and a lot more walking - I estimate I ran 90% of the first leg and closer to 40% of the third. I exchanged a word or two with other walkers and people who passed me, but was feeling worse by the step. By the time I got to the third obstacle, I was in rough shape.
The third obstacle was an inflatable wall, maybe twenty feet tall, with a cargo net on one side for us to climb. I made my way up and felt a warning cramp in my left calf right before I got to the top; I pulled myself over and slid down a big slide, then climbed gingerly out of the landing zone and got out of the way of the other racers. I’ve got a history of muscle cramps (they used to sneak up on me during volleyball tournaments all the time), so I knew what was in store for later in the day. I tried to delay the inevitable by drinking the Gatorade I had left on our bike (which I found pretty quickly), and then willed myself out of the transition area and onto the fourth leg.
I’m telling you, the bike was a blessing. I still felt pretty poor, but it was nowhere near what I felt running. I made it over and down a number of hills and finally pulled into the fourth obstacle area to see Mike waiting again. Once I was off the bike, though, I could tell my calf wasn’t any better than it’d been before I started that last leg, so I sent Mike on and faced the next challenge: the monkey bars. By this point, my hands were so sweaty that I had trouble hanging on, but I made it all the way across quicker than I thought I would and touched down - into a massive cramp. I stretched it out, made my way over to the thankfully-close water stop, and took a minute to rest.
After the water and the too-short break, I was back on the trail. By this point, I knew I’d have to walk the rest of the way or risk more and more severe cramping, so I soldiered on oh-so-slowly. I’m not sure how long that last leg took, but it seemed like forever. Finally, I came out of the woods and joined up with Mike. We started to run to the last obstacle, but after a couple of steps both calves cramped, so I stretched them out and we walked to the pit.
The pit - oh, what a glorious way to finish…. The organizers said they’d brought in 57 tons of mud for the pit, and it looked every bit of it. We had to crawl under a cargo net to get into the pit (to keep people from diving in), and then low-crawl across the entire stretch. I got loads of mud in my pockets and lost my race bib - I’m glad I wasn’t carrying anything of value with me.
Anyways, we got up out of the mud and walked (or, more accurately for me, hobbled) over to the finish line. I then collapsed onto the ground while Mike went back to his truck to get a camera, and for the next half hour or so I tried to keep myself from throwing up (which I’d felt at least a little like doing since the inflatable wall).
After a couple of pictures (that didn’t turn out all that well, unfortunately), we dropped by the wash station (read: hoses filled with unspeakably cold water) and rinsed off a bit, then headed back to the hotel for a couple of much-needed showers.
Looking back, I’m already forgetting the bad feelings. It was fun, and I can’t wait to do another one (hopefully when I feel better).
Great job, Ben! Sounds like fun! I would definitely give it a go but I can’t think of a buddy who would feel the same…
Wow, I’ve missed reading your blog. What a race! It sounds horrific and empowering at the same time! Way to go!
Hi Ben. Good job. I’m might try one of these near me later this year. A good friend of mine has done it a few times, and says it is a dirty blast.