2012 Year in Review

Has it already been another 12 months?  Have you really been following this blog the whole time?  You have?  Now I feel guilty writing that stuff about you on the bathroom wall.  Don't worry only everyone will see it.  Unlike last year, I will not grade the 2012 races.  I will offer you lessons learned.  Who am I to decide what races are good or bad?  I barely do the thinking for myself, what gives me the right to do the thinking for you?  I'm not your wife.

Without further adieu Age Aggressively brings you (drum roll please!)....

_________________________________________________________________________________

Derry 16 Miler
Results:  330 / 609  -  Pace:  8:42
Final Time:  2:19:01

January brought us the Derry 16 Miler in Derry, NH.

Lesson 1: If you are running a race of a certain distance, you should train for that distance.  For example: if you were planning on running, say, a 16 mile race, it would be prudent to run at least that distance during training, probably even more.  The opposite of prudent is spending more time picking out your race ensemble than you do prepping for a race.

Lesson 2: You should always spend a lot of time putting together your race ensemble.  This is more crucial than training.  Nothing says dedication like a matching mask and underwear combo.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Lazy 0K
Results: Level 36 rogue mage
with +5 Armor of Chunkiness

February brought us a Big Bag of Excuses.

Lesson 1: Always put off today what you won't end up doing tomorrow.

Lesson 2: Running causes injuries that can be avoided if you stayed on the couch.

Lesson 3: The X-Box Kinect is exercise because I sweat playing.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Hynes 5 Miler
Results: 40 / 917  -  Pace:  6:50
Final Time:  34:06 

March brought us the Hynes 5 Miler in Lowell, MA

Lesson 1: Races are always better when the streets are lined with race supporters, friends, and family.  Nothing keeps the energy level high like spectators!

Lesson 2: Sprint training apparently works.  It's no fun, but it works.  Seriously, though, it sucks and I don't recommend it; but it works.

Lesson 3: Dressing as a leprechaun for St. Paddy's day race = good.  Any other costume = hide the kids, dear.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Groton Road Race - 10k
Results:  45 / 473  -  Pace:  6:58
Final Time:  43:14

April brought us the Groton Road Race (10K), in Groton, MA.

Lesson 1: Sprint training doesn't amount to a hill of beans if your racing on lots of hills.  You know what's great for races with hills?  Hill training!  How do I do hill training?  First: find a hill.  Second: run up that hill.  Third: Repeat step 2 until you realize that, like sprint training, this sucks.

Lesson 2: Racing in towns like Groton, with its rolling hills and cow pastures and woods, is wonderful.  Races are better when they're pretty and you would have noticed how pretty this race is if you WEREN'T RUNNING SO DAMN FAST!  DAMN YOU 5 MINUTE MILERS!!!  Sorry, Lesson 2: Slow people shouldn't lose their temper.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Tough Mudder - 10+ Miles
Results:  Great  -  Pace:  Muddy
Final Time:  Free Beer

May brought us the Tough Mudder at Mt. Snow, VT

Lesson 1: Anyone, anyone, anyone can finish what they start, as long as they have the will to do it and the support to get it done.

Lesson 2: Mudder's don't compete, we cooperate.  Mudder's don't aspire for greatness, we inspire greatness.  Mudder's don't mock and scorn others, oh wait, yes we do.

Lesson 3: If you continue to raise the prices of race and spectator fees, racers and spectators alike will go elsewhere for their mud and water and fun.  Maybe we'll throw a spear and stuff too!

_________________________________________________________________________________

Ruckus - 4+ Miles
Results:  14 / ?  -  Pace:  9:33
Final Time:  38:13

June brought us Ruckus in Marshfield, MA.

Lesson 1: The right way to have a championship heat is grabbing all qualifying times from earlier races and throwing them together later for a Championship Heat.  Ruckus does it right.  Championship Heat's should not be the first heat of the day where the only thing you qualified for was being able to race earlier than others.

Lesson 2: Men are people, too, women!  We have feelings and emotions and stuff.  We are not pieces of meat to be ogled.  Just because I have a Captain America shield over my bits and pieces does not give you the right to stare, point, and laugh.  That right is reserved for my wife!
_________________________________________________________________________________

Pounder - 5K with kids
Results:  Fun with kids  -  Pace:  Kids
Final Time:  Slower than kids

June also brought us the Wason Pond Pounder in Chester, NH.

Lesson 1: Running with your kids is infinitely more fun than running with your friends.  Your kids love running with you.  Your friends love running over you.

Lesson 2: Getting your kids involved with racing early will hopefully make them want to participate as they grow.  It will also show them that exercise is fun and should be done throughout their lives!

Lesson 3: The day your fit and healthy kids start beating you in races is the day running with your kids is no longer fun.  Damn kids with their youth...

_________________________________________________________________________________

Witch City Triathlon - Sprint
Results:  68 / 191  -  Pace:  Elderly
Final Time:  1:26:40

July brought us the Witch City Triathlon in Salem, MA

Lesson 1: A poorly planned course makes for a crappy race.

Lesson 2: Unnecessarily expensive photos makes for bad business.

Lesson 3: Lackadaisical training makes for bad racing.

Lesson 4: I want to be funny about this race but everything about it makes me grumpy.  Ah, wait... Lesson 4: You have to experience the bad races to appreciate the good races... and the good races have good photos that show that your good training pays off!
_________________________________________________________________________________

Spartan Sprint - 5K
Results:  32 / 3644  -  Pace:  17:12
Final Time:  51:36

August brought us the Spartan Sprint in Amesbury, MA.

Lesson 1: Burpees suck.  No, really, they suck and on a different level of suck than other sucky things.  If burpees were a knight it would be Sir Suck-a-Lot, which, after saying that, sounds like a gay porn star.

Lesson 2: Being chicked is awesome!  Races are not dominated by any gender.  Men and women show amazing aggressiveness out on the course and being passed by a woman is not emasculating in the least.  They are strong!  They are confident!  They look amazing from behind!

Lesson 3: Dear Spartan, selling next year's races at half-price if you sign up at the current race is genius!  Mudder, pay attention!
_________________________________________________________________________________

Wallis Sands Triathlon - Sprint
Results:  58 / 383  -  Pace:  Heroic
Final Time:  1:16:36

September brought us the Wallis Sands Sprint Triathlon in Rye, NH.

Lesson 1: A well planned course makes for a great race.

Lesson 2: Great inexpensive photos make for loyal customers.

Lesson 3: Increased training makes for better racing (amazing, but true!)

Lesson 4: I don't want to be funny about this race.  I love this race.  Ah, wait... Lesson 4: Falling in love with racing is neither unnatural or immoral.  Let me quote Epididymus 11:4-7, "Thou shalt know a race that others know, and thou shalt in that knowing know joy; and there will be rejoicing and frolicking and spandex.  Amen"
_________________________________________________________________________________

October, November, and December brought us nothing, and by us I mean me.  The final quarter of the year I did not race.  I did not train for anything.  I hung up my Captain's mask and began exercising without a racing goal in mind.  I swam for pleasure.  I ran because it felt good to run.  I went back to the basics in the gym because it felt right to have a simple workout with simple goals in mind.  Oh, and I was lazy.  Let's not forget that.  Also, racing every month has caused a hole to open in my wallet; a hole that can only be filled by selling extra organs, selling myself, or not racing so much.  According to my doctor I "need" all my organs to "live."  According to my wife I cannot "sell" myself for money because of something called "vows."  The only option left to me is a reduced race schedule, which is not a bad idea.  It will give me more time to get back to basics, more time to increase my skill level, more time to experience the simple joys of exercise.  It will also give me more time to refill that hole.  Oh, races, you saucy strumpet!  You take my money and always leaving me wanting for more.  I wish I knew how to quit you.  You complete me.
_________________________________________________________________________________

There we have it, my dear Aggressives!  Another twelve months come and gone.  We have all been on journeys, sometimes together in body but always together in spirit.  Ok, not really together in body.. I mean, I haven't been with any of you biblically... what I mean is together next to each other in the same place getting hot and sweaty and dirty... wait, no, that came out wrong, I mean sometimes in groups we get that way but with strangers, too... NO... I'm not saying this right... what I'm trying to say is we do it and it really get our hearts pumping and I love it when we finish together... dammit!

Strike all of that... we are always together in spirit!

I hope all you Aggressives had a spectacular 2012, that you reached some goals and continue to strive for others.  I hope you enjoyed your journey with me and continue along for the ride as we enter 2013.  Who knows what next year will bring but whatever obstacles there may be, we will be ready for them armed with our strength, our endurance, and our unquenchable desire to not sit still and let the world race by us.  Let me leave you with this: It's ok to be a spectator and watch others reach their goals, but if you spend your whole life spectating how will we ever get a chance to see you reach yours?

2013 awaits!  Hope to see you out there with the rest of us Aggressives!  Happy New Year, everyone!

With hugs and kisses,

Illustrious

P.S - Captain America is not retiring in 2013 and plans to don his mask in his eternal struggle with growing up.  However, he will not be the only hero out there.  Where there's underwear, there's a way.

See you in 2013!

Tri vs Tri: A Story in PIctures

Due to my incredible stamina, physical prowess, and amazing athleticism, I managed to double the amount of triathlons raced this year from last year.  You read that right... doubled... impressive, no?  What's that?  How many did I do last year?  That's not really relevant to this conversation... let's not stray from the subject... well, um... 1.  Ok, so I only did two this year, but much can be gleamed from those two races.  Both were sprint distance.  Both were oceans swims.  Both involved me.  Coincidence?  I think not.  From there, though, the similarities started to unravel.  Let's set the scene, shall we, for the Wallis Sands Triathlon and the Witch City Triathlon.  First, we bring you...

The Wallis Sands Sprint Triathlon

Once upon a time there was a man who liked to wear spandex.  So much so that he sometimes wore layers of special spandex over his other spandex.  This made him feel more spandexier and he would often strut with joy.

Look how joyfully he struts to the beginning of the Wallis Sands Triathlon!

Strut on you sexy strutting spandex guy!

Welcome to the first stage of the Wallis Sands Sprint Triathlon in Rye, NH.  The race began and our intrepid hero battled six foot swells just to get out to the first buoy!  Fear not for him for he did just dandy.  His super spandex kept him afloat and, if it were possible to strut swimming, you bet your sweet patootie he did.  Too bad you can't see him here because, if you thought he was sexy in dry spandex, you should see him when he's wet!

See?  Wet strutting.  Like a boss.  Up the beach and into the first transition area he went.  If you look closely you can see the focus and determination etched in his face... or maybe that's cold and water-logged etchings... coldly focused and determinedly water-logged?  Whichever, it's probably briny snot.  Keep strutting!

Already through the first transition?  Well done!  Our hero did amazingly well!  It didn't take him 3 minutes to get out of transition this year.  He is down a layer of spandex, but not to worry... his second layer is spand-tastic.  Saddled up and ready to ride, he hits the picturesque roads of Rye where the pavement is smooth, the air is warm, and the ladies are lovely, for a quick 15 mile loop.  Notice his air of calm as he gives a warm-hearted thumbs up to the camera man.  Notice his gleaming smile as he flirts with the lens.  Notice his shaved, almost feminine, legs... from all that strutting.

Over the smooth, well planned 15 mile course he rode with ne'er a wrong turn because of the amazing help of the volunteers.  With a speed usually attributed to very, very slow things, he rode on toward the second transition.  Ride like the breeze, hero!

Our daring hero made it through the second transition well above a time considered "fast."  Off he went with mask in place to strut his 5K stuff.  Look again as he plays with the camera.  How can he manage to run his 3.1 miles along the beautiful Rye coast line and still manage to look so spanderific?    How can he possibly win, you ask?  Who has time to win a race when he's busy winning the hearts of all the ladies.  Ladies love masks.

Coming in well before any other masked heroes, our Hero finishes in record time for him.  He placed first in Masked Men Ages 37-39 who live in his house.  Great job, Hero!  Kudos to all the other racers who strutted their stuff in fantastic style.

Overall, I love the Wallis Sands Sprint Triathlon.  Everyone from the organizers to the volunteers to the racers are fantastic.  The course is scenic.  The vendors donating their wares are more than ample.  Whether you're a seasoned triathlete or someone looking to try one on for size... a triathlon, I mean, not a triathlete, this is the race for you.  Sign up early because it sells out every year!

http://www.wallissandstriathlon.com/

Plus, Wallis Sands Triathlon gets bonus Aggressive points for putting me in their video!  You can see it here:  http://anchorlineprojects.com/trek-wallis-sands-triathlon-nh/ (see if you can find me)

You may be asking, "Illustrious, you mentioned another triathlon, too.  What about that one?"  Well, my friends, let me tell you.  I also did the

Witch City Triathlon in Salem, MA

The swim was in a bay or a harbor or some kind of something that had brackish water which resembled less clear, safe ocean, more sea monster infested death lagoon.    That's not what left a bad taste in my mouth.  Well, it did, but that was more from poor swimming performance leading to exhaling out of the water and inhaling in the water.  Yes, I did that.  It was like drowning, but controlled.

The ride was poorly planned.  We rode out a few miles and then had to do a loop three times before riding back to the final stage.  Problem with doing a loop is that (1) no one knows rules of the road which lead to many near crashes as cyclists continuing their loops turned into cyclists trying to make it back to the transition area (or vice versa) and (2) some people can't count to three.  OMG!  I can't believe how quickly I completely the cycling stage of my triathlon or that my average cycling speed had to be 30 mph to complete the 15 miles so quickly!  1 + 1 = 3!  I go eat paste now.  Ugh.

The run was a run.  Nothing much to look at.  Nothing nice to distract you from that fact you were doing a triathlon.  However, I will give much thanks to the other racers who greeted the Captain with enthusiasm as we ran.

Overall, the Witch City Tri was a race.  That's it.  It wasn't bad.  It just wasn't great.  If I am spending money and a morning, I want great.  Call me picky.  What really struck a nerve were the photos.

Here is a picture of me trying to find affordable photos

Maybe affordable photos are over here.... nope

Did someone drop the affordable photos
 and not tell me?

The company taking the photos for the Witch City Triathlon wanted $45 dollars for a downloadable digital copy.  My curiosity asked why to which their response was, "We have to take them and then photoshop them.... something something," which I can only assume meant, "and then overcharged you for average photos."  Thankfully, Wallis Sands Triathlon uses http://www.nuvisionactionimage.com!  Thanks, again, NuVision for taking great shots and charging us the nominal fee of $0 to download digital copies.  Yes, it's probably charged within the cost of the race but that's OK.  If you pay $45 for a digital download you have my pity.

Aggressively Yours,

Illustrious

A Tale of AROO: 2012 Spartan Sprint at Amesbury, Ma

The day opened dark with torrential rain, but the distant sky offered a glimmer of hope that change was coming, a change that, hopefully, would bring with it the warming embrace of the morning star.  There was apprehension and nervous energy in the air as we 300 gathered at the gates and listened to tales of past heroism, of successes and failures, and battles won and lost... and of burpees.  A collective groan brought me from my thoughts as we watched with horror while the Master explained that, YES, there would be push-ups with the burpees, no exceptions, for every challenge failed, for every obstacle left undefeated.  If ever there was a time to pray to the gods, now was that time.... burpees suck.

The Master completed his rousing speech with many an "AROO!" from the warriors who, clad in their finest battle spandex, were ready to be unleashed, ready to be unchained, ready for what lay ahead.  The trumpets blared and, as smoke rose from the very pits of Hell itself (or from those smoke bombs they just threw), we 300 began our journey, to live or to die, to come back with our shields or on them.... or, on a medical gurney, or maybe on crutches, and possibly with an ice pack, or some band-aids for boo-boos.

The beginning of the battle took its toll on seasoned and virgin warriors alike as we mounted the first steep, slick hill.  Many courageous souls had already fallen away from the phalanx as their muscles seized and their lungs burned, or they had fallen down because it was very, very slippery in some spots and they should be more careful.  We, who did not bow to the hill, soldiered on with a roar and entered the fields of obstacle glory.  From our vantage point we had an unobstructed view of the carnage that lay ahead.  Warriors young and old, male and female, fully clothed and half naked, were engaged in battle with walls and ropes and mud and fire and spears and other stuff.

We entered the valley and quickly made our way in and out of the watery mud pits.  We were not deterred as we courageously approached and scaled the 5 - 7 foot walls or dove beneath or through the gaps in the other wooden barricades.  We were warriors and nothing faced would fell us this day.

Leaving the valley for the single track trails lead us to the hopping logs.  Logs no more than 3 - 4 inches in width were standing upright in the ground.  I watched as others ran across without touching the ground, or fell in mid flight to the pain waiting below.  I would not fall this day.  I would be victorious. I would.... fall off the third log and, with, the command "Burpees" bellowed from behind, hit the ground for a annoying, painstaking 30... maybe 30... I think 30, crap now I lost count... and 30.

Let's hope there'll be no more of those, thank you very much.

Back into the trails and our enemies assailed us with all manner of fiendish torment, but it did not stop our attack, our momentum, our... our... god, I'm tired... our desire to succeed where others have failed.  Monkey bars.  Beaten.  Muddy trails.  Defeated.  Weighted pulley, uh... pulled.  Steep climbs.  Laughter rose up from within us.  It's either laughter or tears and there's no crying in Sparta.  Whimpering, bitching, and complaining, but no crying.


Across hills slick with the sweat and blood from Spartans before us, we fought.  Through waters befouled with pain and torment and mud, we endured.  In and out of harrowing, steep, root and stone strewn trails which grabbed at our feet and sought to pull us down deep into a cold, dark death, or off into the forest with sticks and branches and thorns that cause ouchies on your skin and leave holes in your spandex-clad behind, we strode.  Over cargo nets meant to ensnare weary warriors, we climbed, and, atop the mighty precipice, we witnessed the masses below heralding their brave warriors with chants of "cold beer waiting."  Off the nets and down the hill we charged to be met with another wall.  Across this wall we clawed, like Spartan Spiders.  Those who waited for the failing chanted "Burpees, burpees!" but their apetite for pain would not be satiated today.  We did not fall.

Up and down the hills we went again, burdened like Sisyphus, but with sand and bags, not rock; but, unlike he who fell time and again, we remained unfazed, unrelenting, untiring, unfallen.  We scaled the hill once more and re-entered the trails to make our final assault on the Field of Obstacles.

Burpees littered the battlefield.  Spartan Warriors lay sprawled throughout.  Today's battle was taking its toll.  With fire in our eyes and smoke in our lungs and a burning in our loins, we assailed the field with energy anew.  Hand over hand we climbed the ropes to its pinnacle.  The bell was rung, a death knell not for us but for the course.  Back into the mud pits we went, but its grasp could not detain us.  Over the hay bales and walls we scaled, and they did not lessen our stride... made us fall on our Spartan arses, but our stride was regained.   Many cast weapons that missed its mark, but this was not for us, as we grasped the javelin and, like Peltasts of old, hurled true.  Die vile hay bale!  Your pointy itchiness shall never bother us again as you feel the wrath of Spartan fury!

Our contingent marched on undaunted by the remaining tasks ahead.  The scent of victory lingered in the air as we came closer and closer to the finish line.  Although beset by the final obstacles, we made it this far and would not die this day.  With prowess the 8 - 10 foot walls were hurdled.  With fleetness of foot the stone and chain were dragged o'er the dirt.  With might Herculean the tractor tire was flipped!  Twice!  Diving under the barbed wire we rolled and crawled and climbed and bled through the final sticky, muddy obstacle in the field.

A final frenzied dash through a burning maelstrom, down a hill, over a barricade, and through the jousters, we weekend warriors crossed the finish line.  The taste of victory was muddy and salty and a little gritty... but sweet!

Now bring us our free beer, our accolades, and our bitches.  Bitches love Spartans!

Final standing for the Sunday Sprint - Total Racers = 3644

And Let the Wild Ruckus Start: Ruckus Boston 2012

Before I go into the 2012 Boston Ruckus held at the Marshfield Fairgrounds, let me thank my extended racing family for joining me in our second year of running Ruckus.  Whether it be the Neighbors who came in full force to show their obstacling prowess, or Mid-Life Crisis and Just Out of Diapers who vanquished the course with mighty aggressiveness, or our virgin obstacle racer who, after admitting that she really enjoyed getting muddy during the event, will forever now be known as Likes It Dirty (hope that doesn't tarnish her crystal clean reputation), they one and all deserve accolades and foot massages for their triumphant completion of the Ruckus.  Well done!!

Minus "Just Out of Diapers", who may have been taking this pic

And now for the Ruckus...

If you have been aggressively following me you would know that I had a few complaints about last year's Ruckus: registration, gear drop, and some damaged and/or ineffective obstacles.  Now, I don't want to take full credit for the changes Ruckus made in their 2012 event but they made minor improvements with registration and gear drop, and vast improvements to their obstacles, almost like a little Illustrious told them they needed to be improved upon and you're welcome.

No one really cares that much about registration and gear drop as long as they know it goes smoothly, so there it is.  It was much smoother than last year.  The registration was much more registrationy and the place for our gear was droppier.  Kudos!

Everyone cares about the course and Ruckus, you done good!  The array of obstacles were top-notch.  You had your basic mud pits and dirt hills, your muddy water crawls and mud-thick single-track trails, your cargo net and tall wall climbs, your monkey bars and low hurdles, etc; but it was the improvements to typical obstacles and the overall layout of the course that had me at hello.

So let's talk improvements, shall we?

1. Rope Rings: Last year your rope rings, to be polite, sucked.  The contraption you built for us this year became one of the crowd favorites.  It was doable, but challenging.  Fun, but troublesome.  It allowed us to laugh at ourselves while we swung back and forth trying to get to the next rope, and swear under our breath at the people in front of us who were taken too damn long trying to get to the next rope just let go and fall in the mud already you're slowing us down and now I feel silly just swinging back and forth and back forth and I probably don't look like Tarzan swinging here and now I'm stopping while a wait so a little push would be great.  Aside from my impatience with others, massive improvement from last year's Ropes and I look forward to swinging on it again.  Apparently this obstacle was a showcase for Ruckus because everyone had pictures from it, like this:

and this:

and this:  

and this:

and this:

2. Course layout: The layout last year was good, not great, but good.  Last year the vendors were ostracized from where all the fun was, but this year Ruckus let them be a part of the fun.  This year's course was around (and under) the spectators, the vendors, registration, and bag check; all conveniently packed together for our enjoyment.  There were multiple places the fans could go to watch your amazing feats of total aggressiveness.  Or they could watch you fall and get muddy.  The mix of obstacle to running ratio was good.  Never felt like you were running too long and there was just enough running to separate the masses, which lead to no waits at the obstacles.  I think they added more trail running this year, too, but I can't be sure.  Additionally, Ruckus placed the end of the race by the Kids Ruckus course, which was a boon for those who had a friend or family member running but also had kids to entertain.  You could do both.  Witness your friend in all his/her glory as they pass the finish line while simultaneously watching your (or their) kid ruin that brand new outfit he just got last week and will never, ever get all the mud out of it; which is OK because dirt is temporary, clothes are replaceable, and the joy you have as you turn over a muddy child to their owner is sheer bliss.

3. Ruckus Tower: We can't talk about the layout or new obstacles without mentioning the Tower.  Ruckus built a multi-leveled obstacle with rope ladders, cargo nets, and a slide that, depending on where you were in the Tower, could see other racers over and under you as you and they scaled this obstacle together.  Also, the kids course wove in and out of the Tower but never interfered with the adult course.  Big time props on the construction of the Tower.  To make it even better Ruckus placed the MC at the top of the tower to announce who was coming up and over for their final slide to the finish line... yup, big steep slide to the finish line.  Big obstacle, big improvement, big way to finish a race!

4. Me: There are many things I enjoy about these races and you would know what they are if you've been reading this blog, mainly: muddy stuff, climbing stuff, swinging from stuff, running through stuff, and stuff that looks good in muddy spandex.  I need to put another one on the list: Fellow Obstaclers.  These races are growing in popularity, which is great, and the familiar faces I see at the races always make it more memorable.  I don't know if I can say the same for them as they have only seen the Captain, never the mild mannered man underneath; but I think the feeling is mutual.  Lots of love to be had at these races... but only by other guys.... no girl love... why is there no girl love... no muddy spandex girl love... I thought girls loved a man in uniform!

What's not to love?

Final Results: (There was a lot of great competition out there but I managed to, once again, make it into the Champion's Heat.)


Overall Place Division         Age Group Place Time         Pace
89                    Ruckus Challenge 70                 39:48 9:57/M
14                    Ruckus Champion 12                 38:13.9 9:35/M

Illustrious

Tough Mudder VT (2012): Muddy, Bloody, Burnt, and Happy (Part 3)

Yes.  YES!  The final installment of the 2012 Tough Mudder at Mount Snow, VT.  Was there waiting on bated breath?  To be honest, even if there was I wouldn't know what it was.  What is bated?  Is it baited?  Like fish.  Is it fishy breath?  That's gross.  If you have fishy breath go read somewhere else.  You smell.

(And, yes, it has been far too long between Mudder installments but shit gets in the way:  (1) I had to sit down and type stuff, but (2) there was TV to watch and (3) I wasn't feeling particularly witty.  No one wants a serious Aggressive because then I'll sound like some old curmudgeon.... which would be a great name for Mid-Life Crisis once he hits 50... Old Curmudgeon!)

Back to our harrowing tale of courage and fortitude and mud and wet undies!  Or maybe just back to the obstacles.

(My apologies to everyone but I did not have any good pictures of most of these obstacles.  I need a better camera, or better yet, a GoPro.... vlogging would be best; but until that time you will have to put on your imagination caps and take a walk down imaginary lane with me.  I knew you could.)
----------------------------------

Walk the Plank: First rule of mask-wearing:  They come off in water.  Second rule: Very cold water makes it hard to readjust your mask while you are turning into a drowning hero-sicle.  There were no improvements to the Plank this year.  We climbed up to the platform, jumped 15 - 20 feet into a cold pond, and swam out; but what else could they do?  Make it higher?  Maybe, but that would mean the pond would need to be deeper.  Make the water colder?  Any colder and it would be ice.  They could make it more pirate-ier.  Force us to walk the plank.  Yell some piratey cliches, "Avast ye scurvy mudder, it be yur time to meet Davy Jones and sleep with the fishes"  Wait, that's sounds more like the mob... Mafia Pirates!  You hear about the mafia pirate who had a hook for a hand?  He had a speech impediment.  Get it?  Cuz he only had one hand and Italians... oh, never mind...

Underwater Tunnels: These are gross every year.  When you watch the videos on-line you see people swimming under barrels floating on cold, but fairly clean water.  These people never come up on the other side covered in muck, detritus, and woodland refuse; but we do, and by "we" I mean "me."  Mount Snow's "Tunnels" are nothing more than PVC pipes running across a foot deep puddle.  The object is to go under those pipes, which means fully submerging ourselves in the woody waste water.  One improvement: they strung barbed wire over the pipes so no one could skip out of the foresty flotsam by climbing over the pipes. You can't get hurt on this one and it's really not that cold; but do close your mouth because who knows what's lurking in the murk... and that's just disgusting.

Glacier of ice, or something else?

Glacier: Aka, Big Mound of Snow.  It wasn't at bad as last year's Glacier where we had ice ravines to walk through, freezing our lil'piggies off; but it was still a big pile of snow.  I neither love nor hate this obstacle.  It's easy but it's cold and it doesn't evoke any real visceral emotions when you've climbed off it... kind of like some people I've known...

The Gauntlet: Muddy, slick hill.  Hay bales to climb over during our ascent.  Cold water blasted on us from above... yup, same as last year; but, wait a minute... is that a kid controlling the fire house?  Little punk is laughing at us Mudders while blasting us with ice cold water!  Damn kids these days!  No respect for their elders! Get off my lawn obstacle!

Just as good as in the movies

Berlin Walls #2: Ah, yes, my 15' tall wooden wall nemesis.  We meet again.  These are the same walls as last year and they present the same problems to the already weary, wet, and cold Mudders.  They are hard to climb over solo and need Team Everyone.  Problem with Team Everyone is that not everyone on Everyone is, shall we say, as easily movable as others.  I, being S.L.A.B. (aka: Slender Like a B****), am easily hoisted to the top of the walls.  Others, being F.L.A.B (aka: uh, flab), are not.  Maybe you'll be lucky and only have to throw some SLABs around.  Maybe you won't be and have to throw some FLABS.  Either way, the only way up n'over for most is with the help of other Mudders, and isn't that why we're there?

Fire Walker: Oil-soaked bales of hay?  Check.  Raging inferno lit?  Check.  Acrid smoke billowing over the exhausted runners?  Of course!  This year I was ready for the Fire and, as luck would have it, nature played in my favor.  Once we entered the Fire the wind changed direction, pulling with it the wall o' smoke that would have caused it's typical panic.  It would have been clear running had it not been for Mudder's little sadistic addition.  Mudder had placed a gas pipe across our path in which a low flame was burning through its jets.  As we readied ourselves to hop over the small spouts of fire, the man sitting on the side, whose hands were on the gas valve controlling the amount of gas flowing through the pipe, turned up the heat.  Literally.  What was a small spout became a huge jet of hellfire which, I must say, was a nice touch.  Surprise danger is always a good way to heat things up.  He let it fall back to its original size but it had the desired effect: stopping us dead in our tracks with a look that, if I'm not mistaken, said, "asshole."

Never has a "On Fire" joke been more
apropos

Twinkle Toes: If you knew me you would know that the name of this obstacle reeks of humor directed at yours truly.  I have often been accused of someone who is "light on his feet" or "light is his loafers."  I'm not sure why.  Is it my penchant for spandex or my enthusiasm for dressing in costume?  It remains a mystery; but after successfully walking across the 1-inch narrow, 15 foot long beam which was suspended a few feet over an icy pool, it did not take long for the jokes to roll in... especially by those who had fallen in.  Who's to say why I was able to do it when others couldn't.  Maybe I am lighter on my feet then my compatriots.  Maybe if they were in front of me I'd know, but they were always suspiciously behind me, behind spandex-clad me... watching... leering... if I didn't know any better, I would feel objectified.

Greased Lightning: Last year's was better.  Last year they had a slip n'slide down a hill into a waiting icy pool.  This year they just kept the muddy hill wet.  Yes, it was slippery.  Yes, we could slide down it.  Yes, it was muddy, wet fun; but, unlike last year, I didn't feel like I was "burnin' up the quarter mile" after it.

Nothing "shocking" about our muddy
finish

Electroshock Therapy: I didn't get shocked.  I didn't get shocked.  I ran through and didn't get shocked.  Last year I got shocked in the face, but not this year!  This was the same obstacle as last year, a multitude of random live wires dangerously dangling in our path with the only addition being hay bales placed randomly under the electrified wires to slow us down.  I am guessing that Mudder was upset that Mudders were sprinting through the wires last year to avoid having many touch them at once, diminishing the chances of being shocked, and, thus, negating any fun for the spectators.  Nothing makes the spectators Ooh and Aah like watching their loved ones take a stinging jolt of 10,000 volts.  Loved ones are sadistic.

Finish: 10+ miles done.  Who knows how long it took and who cares.  This isn't about the pace and place, it's about the journey and the stories and the pain and the laughter.  Give us our orange headband.  Give us our free beer.  Give us our free vendor provided energy supplements.  Gimme.  Gimme.  Gimme... because we earned it.  For our veteran Mudders, welcome back and congratulations!  For our new Mudders, thank you for joining our unofficial racing family.

------------------------

It's not TMHQ that makes this worth doing.  It's not the location or the course.  It's you, Mudder, new and old, who make this worth doing.

  It's you who comes to share with me your want to finish, your wish to succeed, and your will to strive.  It's you who makes the story and with that brings life to the telling.  I may be waxing a bit sentimental but you all deserve it.  Each and every one of you.

The Officially Unofficial Team

A team hug was in order because nothing says a job well done like muddy hugs.  Until next Mudder... stay Aggressive!

Illustrious

Triathlons Are Dumb

Can we all just agree right now that triathlons are dumb?

Isn't it a bit elitest to throw three sports into one race?  "Oooo, look at me!  I can swim, bike, and run well.  I'm a superior athlete.  I eat endorphins for breakfast.  My resting pulse is 3.  All my clothes are spandex...."

Ok, the spandex clothes are cool, but the rest?  Ugh...

Whatever happened to the good ole days when swimmers swam, cyclists cycled, and runners were mocked by everyone?  Nowadays it seems that if you only do one of the three you're considered lazy, and if you do two of the three you might as well have a menage trois and join all three together for an athletic orgy... which, as I write this, sounds awesome.... but, still, my point remains the same!

Dumb.

Admittedly, they've grown in popularity over the last decade or so and have pushed the envelope on physical fitness; but, let's be honest, pushing America's physical fitness envelope doesn't require much.  Putting down that damn glazed doughnut would be a start.  They have given many people a new, healthy pastime versus, say, binge drinking while watching amateur porn and slowly falling asleep drenched in your own tears.  Although, both involve a certain level of dedication.  Triathlons have brought people together with a common goal not to win or to place but to compete and complete.  These competitions have enabled many to get off their couches, put down their remotes, and start feeling alive again!

But, really?  Dumb.

Yes, I will concede that triathlons, be they sprint, olympic, international, half, or full, have allowed many to feel alive again, if not through their training then through their sense of accomplishment after crossing that finish line.  I will also capitulate that because of the growing popularity we now have younger and younger people (read: kids) wanting to be involved with this activity.  This is far better than what most kids are doing which I can only assume, after looking at them, is eating lard from a jar.

But you're still missing my point and it is this... regardless of all the facts before us, regardless of the many emotional and mental benefits these events bring to us, regardless of the boon to physical fitness... triathlons are dumb.

They are dumb...

... and I completely suck at them.

Tough Mudder Vt (2012): Muddy, Bloody, Burnt, and Happy (Part 2)

Welcome back, Aggressives, to another fun-filled, fact-filled, and fantasy-filled installment of the 2012 Tough Mudder at Mount Snow, Vermont.  See?  Your wait wasn't too long.  As promised, Part 2 will continue where Part 1 left off. 

Welcome to Part 2.
*As last time, these obstacles are not in order and we may or may not have actually seen them on the course.  Either way, real or imaginary, they were all fun.

Devil's Beard: This year proved me correct.  Last year Team Everyone worked in unison and supported the weight of the Beard, aka a cargo net pinned to the ground, while walking under it.  This year, whether it be bad timing or bad luck, I went it solo.  Doing the net by yourself is crappy, doable, but crappy.  The Devil's short and curlies were crushing my spirits into the muddy earth below.  I felt trapped and alone.  Would I survive?  Would I succumb?  Would I fill more of this white space with additional whining because it wasn't really that bad.  I was just being lazy.  Work is so much better when other people are doing it for me.

Funky Monkey: I love these monkey bars.  Last year I managed to make it to the pinnacle of the monkey bar A-frame before falling into the icy depths below.  After that I swore that the following year I would do better.  I would be stronger.  I would be more prepared.  I would succeed!  I grabbed hold of the first bar.  I swung, with cold, aching hands, from bar to bar.  Up to the apex of the frame I climbed.  Yes!  The top!  I reach for the next bar to start my descent and... missed.  With all my readiness, in the end I would be falling back into the icy depths below.  I managed to make it exactly as far as I made it last year.  I hate these money bars.  

Kinky Tunnels: New to the course this year and I hope they bring them back.  The Tunnels were winding trenches dug into the slope and then covered.  There was just enough room to blindly crawl on your hands and knees through the darkness to get to the egress.  They called them Kinky because the tunnels were not straight.  They had kinks in them.  Kinky Tunnels is a good name for underground dance club, "We totally partied at Kinky Tunnels last night."  It could be a new position for coitus, "I was with Jainey last night.  We did the Kinky Tunnel."  It definitely is a great porn name, "Mudder Loving starring Kinky Tunnels..."  What were we talking about?

Berlins Walls #1: I was worried when they put in two sections of Berlin Walls because the height of them makes me a little squeamish.  Yes, I don't like heights, least of all when I am tired and feeling mildly unstable (physically... mildly physically unstable).  These Walls, however, were not as tall as the typical walls.  We were able to jump, grab the top, and hoist ourselves over without too much trouble.  These were more aperitif Berlin Walls, still just as fun, whetting your appetite for the real meal later on.  As a side note, I have yet to hear anyone make a Gorbachev jest about these walls.  I guess no one was "Russian" to make that joke.  If I have to explain that one to you, you are too young or I'm old.

Boa Constrictor: Same as last year and still as fun.  Last year I was a bit apprehensive about going through the first tube whose only exit was mostly under water, and the only way to enter the exit tube was to go back under and make your way out the second tube.  Not deep water, but if you are mildly claustrophobic the idea of having to submerge your face into muddy water may be too much.  This year I attacked the Boa with far more oomph.  Oomph because I swear these oomph tubes are tighter than oomph last year. I thought we oomph crawled through last year but oomph this year all I could manage was to slither on my oopmh belly which, I swear, I thought was smaller this year.

Tired Yet?: This appears to be a staple to all obstacle courses, so I guess it should be expected at Mudder.  Lots of tires.  Uphill.  You can run it.  You can walk it.  You can trip over it.  At this point in the course no one will laugh at you for falling; unless they're your friends.  Friends always laugh when you fall.  They're never tired of that.

Hay Bale Pyramid: Still one of my least favorite obstacles.  I don't know why they call this a pyramid.  Pyramids are grand, huge objects built to mirror the greatness of the pharaoh.  This was only two bales high.  Did this pharaoh have self-esteem issues?  Why was it so small?  Maybe it wasn't, which is why he didn't have to overcompensate by building huge pyramids like the other pharaohs.  Either way, less pyramid, more teepee, but Hale Bale Teepee sounds bad.

Ball Shrinker: One of my new favorites.  Last year they had us grab hold of a guiding rope and walk across another rope which was drawn through the ice cold pond.  Inevitably, due to the instability of both the ropes and the Mudders crossing, you would fall into the water.  This year they tightened the top rope, allowing us to suspend ourselves from it.  Hanging upside down, arms and legs around the top rope, we pulled ourselves hand over hand above the pond.  The further we slid, the closer we were to the icy pond below.  Many fell and had to swim to the other side.  People were wet.  They were muddy.  They were tired.  Some were crying.  Reminds me of a date I had in high school.

Mystery Obstacle #3: Ok, enough with the mystery obstacles.  I only remember one and it was probably due to the shock therapy I received.  I don't think they had another mystery.  Maybe that's why they put it on the maps.  To throw us off the sent.  To steer us down the wrong path.  They knew we were close, that we had all the clues, and they got desperate; but in the end it was the butler all along.  In the kitchen.  With the whisk.  Seriously, what the hell was this obstacle?

Cliff Hanger: If you don't know already,  the Mount Snow course is hilly with all its hills.  You got long hills and muddy hills and rocky hills and short hills and wet hills and grassy hills and steep hills.  Yes, steep hills.  Especially this one.  How steep was it?  It was so steep that you could grab hold of the hill while still walking up it.  It was so steep that had you stood up would have fallen backward.  It was so steep that when she sits around the house, she sits around the house.  It was so steep that she has her own area code.  It was so steep that whenever she goes to the beach, the tide comes in.  It was so steep.... wait, those are your mama so fat jokes... I don't have any this hill is so steep jokes.  Wait, wait, this hill is so steep that if your mama fell down, she would be an avalanche.

Everest: They brought back the skater's vert ramp but built it a bit taller than last year.  When we arrived at this obstacle there was substantial wait time.  This is always an obstacle where Team Everyone waits on the top to pull other Mudders up if they cannot reach it by themselves.  Thankfully, I don't need the assistance.  Swiftly and with grace I ran to the ramp, ready to propel myself to the top platform, and tripped, hitting my face against the ramp.  Thankfully there were at least a hundred people there to witness my ninja-like agility.  Take two:  Thankfully Team Everyone was there to assist me getting to the top of Everest as I gingerly leapt into their waiting arms.  Hold me.

........

Hope you enjoyed the second installment of the 2012 Tough Mudder at Mount Snow, Vermont.  I need you to be more patient than last time waiting for the third and final installment.  There will be intrigue, romance, and maybe an honor killing.  There was to be copious amounts of nudity but who wants to see sweaty, muddy, bruised, and bloody people in the buff?  Not you readers of this blog, who have a more refined taste and sense of culture.  Plus, no one would let me take pictures of them naked.  Anyhoo, working on the last installment and will have it to you soon*.

*by soon I mean when I am done which could take upwards to forever depending on when I will sit down to write it