For a long time, it has been called the Granddaddy of all endurance events, the Ironman triathlon. A 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike and a 26.2-mile run done consecutively in the same day. Of course, nowadays, double, triple, and even deca Ironman distance triathlons are becoming more and more popular, as well as 24, 48 and even 72-hour mud and obstacle run challenges. If you are calling me crazy for doing my second Ironman, I can introduce you to at least a few people who do challenges that make Ironman look like a game of hopscotch. (Yes, Matt “UltraIronBeast” Dolitsky, you are one of those.)
This competition for me was a learning experience in overcoming obstacles, most of them mental. I did not PR, or even come close, but I now understand completely the quote, “The mind will quite 100 times before the body does.”
Pete Amedure, Kari Eichen, Kat Ward, Jamie Breibart and myself all decided to drive up Wednesday morning in order to get acclimated to the environment and eliminate and reasons for not being prepared for Saturday’s race. Pete, Kari and I were in my car and had a great time on the way up. Of course, there was a stop at the Huddle House in Perry Florida where we ate and laughed to a point where I spaced out and left my phone, and didn’t realize it until we were half-an-hour from Panama City Beach. It didn’t help that I was in the middle of contracts and had all my recruiters contacting me about interviews and new opportunities. (I ended up remedying this by sending FedEx to the restaurant and delivering it to our hotel. In the meantime, Google Voice was a tremendous help.)
We arrived at the Laketown Wharf complex where we stayed in a luxurious three bedroom, three bath condominium, with a beautiful view of the gulf. I give this hotel/condo complex four stars. It had everything needed including a nightly water and light show that rivals the Bellagio in Las Vegas. Well, not really, but it was a fun amenity. The condos all have a full kitchen, with dishes, glasses, silverware, pots and pans, coffee maker, and a full-size refrigerator. Everything needed for the athlete, and spectathletes, to remove all those pressures of nutrition, and early morning breakfasts. The area also has plenty of great restaurants for good eating as well.
Afterward, we walked the quarter mile to athlete check-in to receive our chip, bibs, bags, and swag. I was a little disappointed in the swag this year. Last year they gave out beautiful TYR transition backpacks, but this year it was a very inferior white backpack that looks like it will fall apart. Jamie’s actually did, so they gave her a replacement immediately. The expo was about twice the size that it was last year, with a host of new vendors. Verizon was displaying their goods, as they were the tracking sponsor this year, along with Newton, Fit2Run, a local bike shop and a bunch of the regulars. Refuel was there, talking about Chocolate Milk, so I did create a video with them talking about the benefits of it. I will share that link on Twitter when I receive it. It should be good for a couple of laughs.
After that, we spent the next couple of days, taking in the aura of Ironman, preparing and eating. Eating was a non-stop event for us. I knew from experience that immense calories were going to be needed in order to be comfortable on the course, so I encouraged our team to keep eating as I did myself.
Thursday night was the athlete welcome dinner, and I was almost embarrassed. My recollection of the 2011 athlete dinner was so wonderful, that I really talked it up and encouraged Pete, Jamie, and Kari to come. Jamie decided not to go, but I was so excited for Pete and Kari to be there I couldn’t contain my emotions. Unfortunately, I was sort of let down. It seemed unorganized and hurried. Yes, my favorite pro-triathlete and world champion Mirinda Carfrae was interviewed on stage, so that was great, but the rest of it was about charities and a couple of athletes overcoming their own obstacles. There were video presentations about a woman who was competing for her husband who died the year earlier while training, and a quadriplegic who was competing to show the world that anyone could do anything if they just challenged themselves.
Yes, their stories were inspiring but I just felt like it was too much and way too long. In 2011 the presentations were balanced between the negative and the positive inspiring stories and we even had an athlete briefing by the race director all in the span of 90 minutes. It held the attention of every athlete to a point where the announcer almost didn’t need the microphone. This time, a good portion of the athletes conversed right through all the presentations to a point where it was hard to hear the MC with a microphone. I felt like I let my friend Pete down to a point where I was apologizing so much on the walk back I became annoying. Sorry, Pete and Kari.
Friday, the anxiety hit like a ton of bricks. You couldn’t cut the tension in the condo with a Ginsu, serrated edge knife. We ate breakfast and then headed down to the beach to get in the water with our wetsuits. The waves sets were barreling to the shore with such force that the red, “no-swimming”, flag was flown, but we knew we needed to at least get in the water for a few minutes just to test out our goggles and our wetsuits. Surprising enough, even with the force of the waves, I thought I became a little more confident. I was able to stay on the surface of the water, and I practiced duck diving through the waves instead of trying to swim over them. I really thought I may have a chance of being faster out of the water than I thought.
Afterward, we talked through our transition plans to double check our gear, checked to make sure our bikes were ready to go and proceeded to transition to check-in everything. We had decided to try and wait out the rain, but unfortunately, I had a phone interview which had the chance of exceeding beyond the time check-in would close, so we walked down in the rain. The line was so long, I was going to be cutting it very close, so afterward, I ran back to the hotel. On the way back, I dropped my phone and cracked the screen. Yes, I had the phone back in my hands all of two hours and I dropped it. I have never broken a phone before, ever, and here I had two phone interviews and I cracked the screen. I was lucky enough that the phone still worked with voice recognition and a little effort, so the two interviews scheduled went off without any problems and I confirmed them both for second interviews as well.
That night we had a good dinner at the Wicked Wheel and we were all in bed around 9 pm ready to take on the Ironman.
As predicted, the night before was restless but I did end up sleeping a good 4-5 hours before the alarm went off. As planned we dressed in sweats, grabbed our “Special Needs” bags, nutrition for the bike, and headed to transition around 4:30 am. We were body marked, checked our bikes, dropped our bags, and then headed back to try and leisurely eat breakfast, and dress for the race. Kari cooked eggs and turkey bacon, I cooked oatmeal and we all hung out for a while and tried to prepare ourselves with our loved ones. It was kind of surreal. I remembered these moments from the first time I competed in this race, but it still seemed like it was all new again.
We dressed, pulled on our wetsuits halfway, hugged and headed for the start line. We walked with Kari, Kim, and Danny down to the start, but athletes had to enter separately than spectators, so when we finally hit the beach we couldn’t find them. I really wanted to see them all before the start, but I knew I would be ok if I didn’t, but Kari had Pete’s goggles in her bag, so now it became imperative that we find them. We walked over trying to find them, so when it came to a point where we had no time left, we dropped our stuff and proceeded to button up our wetsuits and prepare to go under the arch. It was at that moment, our party found us. Talk about cutting it close. We hugged, gut our well wishes, wished each other luck and headed into the mass of athletes preparing for the start.
This year was a little different as signs were being held up with expected times for the swim. It could be compared to pace groups commonly found in road races except instead of going deep from a start line this went wide along the shore with the idea that if the slower swimmers would be the widest from the buoys and would fall in behind the faster ones. This was thought to bring down the chaos of a mass swim start, but for me, it was worse. I have been in comparable rough water, hit, kicked and swam over before and I always kept on swimming no matter what, but this time I was kicked so many times with the last time throwing my goggles from my face. It took me a few minutes to find them floating away from me, but I was able to put them back without too much trouble.
When I finished my first loop, the clock said 1:11 which was very slow. I thought I should be able to make up at least three minutes on the second loop, so I shouldn’t be in any danger of not making the 2:20 cutoff. I found a rhythm and just kept swimming, but I veered to the left of buoys and to keep correcting my course. When I made the turn for the straightaway to the swim finish, I glanced at my wrist to check my Garmin to see how much time I had left, and it was gone. Not only could I not find out what I needed to cross the swim finish, I wasn’t going to know how fast I would bike, or run. I wouldn’t know when to take my nutrition or even what time it was.
Three buoys from the end I ended up with a paddle boarder on the left of me and jet ski on the right. The paddleboarder kept yelling the time I had left. “You have 8 minutes. You got this just keep going.” I have to admit, the idea of a DNF crossed my mind and it did not scare me. I thought to myself “would it really be the end o the world.” I would be able to support Pete, Jamie, and Kat and I wouldn’t have to worry about biking 112 miles, chafing, nutrition, none of it. Of course, I wouldn’t get to cross that finish line and I would feel like a failure and that is what really scared me. It wasn’t the disappointment of my friends or even my family, it was the disappointment I would have in myself. That never-ending coulda, woulda, shoulda would really haunt me, so I sped up and went as hard as I could. The waves after the sandbar helped and even though I got caught up in the rope tied to one of the lifeguard’s flotation device I was able to hit the beach at exactly 2:20 getting me over the timing mat at 2:20:08.
I don’t mind stating that I was exhausted. I have stated it time and time again, that I am not even a good swimmer, but this really put it in perspective.
I ran into transition and the volunteers stated I had eight minutes to cross the bike mat, so they hurried me into my bib and jersey I was using for the bike, put on my helmet and shoes and rushed me out into transition to grab my bike. I crossed and headed out on my 112-mile journey.
My lungs were screaming and my stomach was churning, but I just kept going. I passed the mile 10 marker and about, what I estimate was around the 12-13 mile mark, nausea started. I pulled over to the side of the road and vomited sea water over the guardrail. Unfortunately, I have what is called a vasovagal response to vomiting, which basically means I pass out cold. I woke up, splayed out on the side of the road with the sun shining in my eyes. It took a while to get my wits and balance in order to get back on my bike. I continued slowly with the thoughts of turning around and just ending it. Who would blame me? I became sick on the bike, no one would care. With my stomach still churning and my head spinning I decided I would go to the twenty-mile marker and if I didn’t feel better I would turn around. The earlier thoughts I had of a DNF plagued me again and when I saw the 20-mile sign, I was still feeling sick, but better than I did. I took in some of the Isagenix mix I had in my bottles and decided to go on to the next marker, but it wasn’t more than a mile later I realized that if I turned around at the 30 mile mark, I would have biked 60 miles by the time I got back to the start. That’s when I knew I had it in me. It no longer was about time now it was about finishing.
From that point on the bike ended up being uneventful. Sure, there were minor challenges. For instance, the wind picked up quite a bit, and of course, I still had no perception of time, except for when I asked, but I just put my head down and kept going.
Here is a little lesson learned while I was on the bike. As I mentioned the wind became a challenge during the bike, but I decided to wear an aero helmet and while I was in aero position and looked down, the wind became a little less a factor. I found myself being able to pick up a higher cadence. The minute I looked straight I could not only hear the wind, but I felt like someone had hit the breaks on my bike. Every article and person always said, one way and the cheapest way to become more aero was a helmet. They were right.
Being the last one out of the water did have one advantage. I wasn’t going to get passed. I was doing all the passing, and with each rider I passed, I felt a little bit of mental boost which helped a great deal. I rolled into transition in a little over 7 hours, which, in my estimation, had me on the side of the road for a little over 30 minutes. All-in-all it wasn’t actually that bad.
A volunteer grabbed my bike, I snatched my run gear bag and was greeted in the changing room by my friend, and client, Hugo Scavino. He helped me rid myself of the bib and bike jersey and don my shoes and hat. After a huge hug, I headed off onto the run course. I stopped briefly for words of encouragement, hugs and kisses from Kim, Kari, Maria and Anne, and off onto the course I went. I walked for about a quarter mile before I started running. I was kind of amazed. I felt like I was able to transition to my running legs a little easier than the Augusta 70.3 I competed in six weeks earlier. I hit the first aid station in about 1.5 miles and I was feeling pretty good. I formulated my plan of running from aid station to aid station and just walking while I was getting water and nutrition. This worked for the first loop.
Pete and Jaime passed me at my mile 3 and their mile 10 and we shook hands and I motivated Pete with warning him I should not be able to catch him. Of course in the back of my mind, I was questioning if I could somehow make up 7 miles on him. Dave Nardoski caught up with me on his second loop, so I walked and chatted with him for a few minutes before I picked up the pace again. At mile 6 I saw Kat looking really strong and I yelled some encouragement to her as I passed. The halfway point for the first loop is in a park and I was feeling pretty good. I started doing the math in my head for what it would take to catch up to Pete and Jamie. The idea of the three of crossing together seemed surreal but possibly realistic. At mile 10 I saw Jamie and she had picked up the pace from Pete, and she looked really good. Obviously, the three of us crossing was most likely not going to happen unless I could really pick up some speed and Pete and I could catch her. A little while later I saw Pete again walking. We stopped for a minute and he told me that everything hurt. I gave him some encouragement and we parted. Just prior to the turnaround I found myself running next to Lew Hollander. Lew, is an 83-year-old, twenty-time Kona qualifier and finisher. He is extremely inspiring and is the epitome of the idea that age doesn’t have to be an excuse. We chatted briefly, he gave me some motivation, I congratulated him, he ran into the finisher chute and I made the turn. Kim and Danny were on the other side of the turn, so I was able to see them and get some love and hugs from Kim. She actually ran a little bit with me before I headed off.
I was hurting now. At mile 14 I slowed to a walk. My feet were screaming in agony, my hips, quads, hamstrings and IT bands were in a lot of pain and I started getting a twinge in my back. I didn’t want to walk, but my legs were not letting me run either. I decided I would walk to the aid station of after mile 15 and continue from there. It didn’t happen the way I wanted. I ended up doing a series of run/walk intervals all the way to mile 18 where Pete and I crossed for the last time. We high-fived each other and continued on. Not too far ahead I stopped to use a portlet, but when I exited I became turned around and stupidly started running in the wrong direction. I caught myself about a half mile before I realized what I was doing and quickly did a one-eighty. I guess I was meant to run even more than a marathon this time.
I did meet Susan, a member of the Sarasota Storm Tri Club, which I have participated in races and training with. We chatted and played cat and mouse for a while. Susan had a very steady pace, so I would catch her and then when I would walk she would pass me. This happened about 3 or 4 times throughout the marathon portion. After getting completing the out-and-back in the park to head to the finish I started to feel like I just was about done with this whole thing. I was walking more than running, I was in pain and I was just ready for this experience to end. When I saw mile 20, I thought I only have a 10k left. I could do a 10k in my sleep. I started to pick up the pace just a bit. I walked through the aid station in between 20 and 21 and started talking to myself. “C’mon legs. Just one more training run. I need ya. Relax. Use gravity as momentum. We can do this.”
Ahead was mile marker 21, and it was then when I decided, there will be no more stops at aid stations, there will be no more walking. It was time to get this done. I picked up the pace and never looked back. I caught up with Susan at mile 22 and I told her to come with me. This was just a 5k with a one-mile warm-up. She said something that really motivated me. “You are really strong, Brad.” Who was she trying to kid? It wasn’t 12 hours ago I had thoughts of quitting. I didn’t quit though and here I was 4 miles from the finish of my second Ironman. I picked up the pace even more to a point where I was running at a sub 8:30 pace for a bit. I was in a lot of pain, but it was going to be worse if I stopped. Every time I passed another athlete or spectator they would say “Good job” and that just fueled me. A couple of the spectators would yell, “Awesome pace keep it up!” I ran through the Tri Club village at 25 when someone yelled “Go Goof GO!”, so I even picked up the pace even more. When I finally reached the chute there were two people running together in front of me and I didn’t know whether to let them go ahead or pass them. I passed them and sped up even more in order to make sure I was alone at the finish line.
I saw the finish line and didn’t even look at the clock. After all, I hadn’t known what time it was up to that point, so what did it matter now. The announcer bellowed, “Brad Minus from Tampa Bay, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” Oh, how sweet that sounded. Especially after being kicked, and hit in the water, losing my goggles and Garmin, vomiting and blacking out on the side of the road, and running through all that pain. I finally reached the finish.
A volunteer escorted me to Yvonne Van Vlerken, the women’s first-place finisher, who placed the medal around my neck. We congratulated each other and she gave me a hug, and then I continued with my handler to get a shiny warming sheath, and a finish photo before she handed me off to Kim, Maria, Jamie and the Dannys. I saw Pete sitting down and we just looked at each other with pain on our faces but pride in our eyes.
The rest of the night consisted of pizza and hard cider and regaling stories of the race. PB&J had accomplished what we set out to do a year earlier.
Jamie was the heroine of the night. When she decided to run she end up fast enough to finish with a 13:50. I am still so proud of her. Pete ended up a little under 15 and I ended up with a 15:09. I am not happy with it. It is significantly longer than 2011, but I finished and everything considered, I did have fun. That is what matters most.
Thank you to all who tracked and reported on Facebook, for all the prayers, thoughts, motivation and kudos, Anne, Kari, Maria, Hugo and all the other voluneteers, Kim for supporting me and especially to Pete, Jamie, & Kat for being my training buddies through this journey.
|Ragnar Relay Finish|
Happy New year from the IronGoof. I hope everyone had a relaxing and pleasant holiday season. I took some time away from the Social Media stage for awhile which of course, coincided with my off-season and the holidays. Oh, I checked in from time-to-time, so I wasn’t completely away, but for the most part the last couple of weeks was pretty much spending time with family for the holidays, working a little and of course just this last weekend; Ragnar Relay: Miami-Key West. More on that later.
I want to mention my opinions on New Year’s Resolutions. Personally, to RESOLVE to make changes leaves a lot of room for disappointment, but to decide to make positive changes in your life or set goals allows for a journey. It is a trail to blaze and a challenge to conquer, not just an idea that might take shape. I always thought the best way to start a new year is to document what is to be accomplished in the coming year. What makes this blog kinda cool is that now I can publish it and be accountable to everyone. So here they are:
1. Get over my fear of leaving my day job and get my business off the ground.
2. Reduce debt by minimally 50%
3. Re-commit to a financial plan and budget
3. Complete my Certified Personal Trainer, USAT Level 1 coach and USATF Level 1 and minimally begin my Certified Nutrition Professional.
4. Blog at least 5 times a week
Sports & Fitness:
1. 2 Ironman Triathlons: IM Louisville, IM Florida
2. IM FL in less than 12 hours
3. Running average pace at 7:30 min/mile at RPE 2
4. Biking average pace at 22 mph at RPE 2
5. Swim at 1:45 per 100m at RPE 3
6. Start CrossFit as strength training
7. 1 half-marathon at 1:35 or less
A little aggressive? Absolutely, but isn’t that what life is all about? As my friend Casey would say, “Go big or Go home!”. The secret goal I have, which obviously will not be so secret anymore is to take on the motto: “Always be doing something that matters.” For example, watching the boob tube means nothing and does nothing for anyone. Does that mean I am going to stop watching TV? Heck no, but this year it will not be the only thing I am doing. If the TV is on, then I need to be doing something else as well. Blogging, training on the bike trainer or the treadmill, foam rolling, stretching, something besides just being a spectator.
That is the plan for my year. What are your goals?
I have so much to write about. I have reviews to blog about, race reports to write. Be prepared to be seeing a little more activity than normal from the Goof.
|Brandon Half Marathon|
Brandon Half Marathon Race Recap
Nexus 7 tablet review
Hydro Flask Review
Just Say No 10k Race Recap
Samsung 18 megapixel Camera review
Ragnar Relay Recap
I might be doing all this in just a couple of posts, so it may be long, or will it. I may have another way of getting you the information. Just wait and see.
Here’s a new tag line I am adopting to keep all of you motivated this year from my friend Summer Bailey:
(Seize the Moment)
I completed the Hogwild Mud Run this last weekend. To tell you the absolute truth it was a combination of fun and frustration. While I did enjoy the race, there were a couple of issues that would have made the experience better. Let me share my experience with you.
I arrived at the venue in Dover, a little outside of Plant city, around 11 am, following the advice of the email I received. Since my heat wasn’t until 12 pm the hour I had was more than enough time for me. I say “for me” because since I picked up my packet at Fit2Run the day before, which turned out to be smart. When I arrived, I walked up and saw this long line, so I jumped in and started talking to some of the other contestants in front of me. A group that had camouflage bandannas that had the word “FUBAR” on them(F***ed Up Beyond All Recognition), which I thought was totally cool. After realizing the line wasn’t really moving I asked a volunteer what was going on and was told the organization at the sign-in/registration table was really unorganized. It turned out since I already had my number I did not need to wait, I could go to a different table and just pick up my chip. Whew! There was no way I wanted to wait in that line in the 90-degree heat. I picked up my chip and headed back to my car since I also found there was no bag check. I dropped my shirt, put on my chip, grabbed my gloves and headed to the “expo” since I had plenty of time before my heat.
The “expo” wasn’t much but a few product vendors, the beer tent, and some food trucks, so I just decided to proceed to the start line with a quick stop at the porta potties. The start line was nowhere near as prominent as the Finish line and I almost had to ask where it was. Without issue, I found this small, area of ribbons which held a table and the start mats. I warmed up and stretched a bit and then headed into the start chute. While hanging out I met a couple that was in the military and another veteran race couple who were very nice and conversational. One of the veterans and I agreed we would like to see what we could do with this race time-wise just for curiosity sake so I set my watch and was ready to run whenever I could at a decent clip. After a bit, the official finally stated we had a few seconds until our heat started to, be ready. He blew the start horn and we were off.
This was the first time I decided to run in my Vibram Five Fingers, so I was a little hesitant at first, but after a few strides, I realized I felt pretty light and sped up a bit. The first couple of obstacles included a mud crawl, a small hurdle and a jump into a creek. The water was somewhat cool which was refreshing but there wasn’t really any markings to tell us where to go from there. We could move up onto a trail, but previously we were told by an official to stay in the creek and move to our left, which was still kind of confusing. I decided to do just that and took the lead. The water felt pretty heavy with debris but I pushed through and wouldn’t you know it but there was an arrow pointing out of the creek about 400 meters in front of us. We jumped out and I started running through a trail. I felt pretty good at this point and I was running at pretty good speed and felt pretty light because my shoes didn’t hold any of the water. I thought I am really going to enjoy these shoes. It turned out running was a waste since my next obstacle was a fifteen-foot rope wall and it had a line of people waiting to get over it. There was one rope on the far end that no one was using. After talking to one of the military guys, we decided to try it. This was a rope and the wall, while the other three ropes had some thin pieces of wood nailed to the wall to help this one had nothing. I thought what the hell, I did this before, I can do this. I had my gloves and my shoes, no problem, right? Wrong! I climbed about halfway up before my grip slipped due to the rope being soaked. I wrapped my arm through the rope for a second try but I realized I didn’t have the grip strength to pull myself up. What a wuss. I ended up getting back in line and using the medium level rope with two thin boards only on my left side to get over. Of course, I had to go back to the end of the line and waited about 10 minutes to get to it.
The next obstacle was a reverse ladder wall where the rungs where on an incline backward. It wasn’t hard for me and I got over it pretty quickly and since most people in front of me were adept to this one I only had to wait about five minutes to start. There were a couple of mud pits to run through a quick cargo wall and then a sandbag carry about a quarter mile around a lake, of which I actually ran. the bag was about 25 pounds give or take so I didn’t feel it was all that difficult. Awkward but not difficult. That ended with sliding down these tubes into deep water where you had to swim to the far end to get out. There were also ropes to pull yourself across if warranted, but seeing as though I needed to get in as much swimming as possible, I just swam it.
Continuing on from there was pretty fast. There were some trails in-between getting over barrels in the pond, another mud pit, and a haystack. I was surprised running after the obstacles. I expected to be somewhat winded but I was able to keep a pretty good pace running though. Of course, I was stopped dead at the monkey bars waiting another 15 minutes. The monkey bars were on an incline up and then back down. My arms were a bit exhausted, but I thought I had enough strength to get through. No such luck, 2 rungs to go and they gave out. Since I have been training more legs and core than anything else due to the triathlons, here is where I decided I need to get my upper body strength back, but I digress. back to the race.
Continuing on was a rope climb over a trash compactor, a very slippery hill, and another cargo net. The Vibram’s did not let me down during the climbs, when other athletes were slipping back I had no problem maintaining a grip in the mud. I was thinking how much of a believer I came to be in these shoes during those obstacles.
The next mile or so coming to the conclusion of the race included a long trail run with hills, moguls and a hay bale climb. I started passing people up during the run. I was really surprised how comfortable I felt out in the trails. It really felt like a nice change from the asphalt of Bayshore and Davis Island. I thought to myself about adding some trail runs to my training, just to break it up a bit.
The conclusion of the race ended with a muddy hill climb to a slide into a puddle, and finally a mud crawl under electrified barbed wire. The interesting part was the first ten feet, or so, was dry compacted dirt, but the last was wet, nasty, thick mud that clung to me like white on rice. I was caked and covered with this grimy, thick, gross mud that weighed me down as if I was carrying twenty-five-pound kettlebells. To make matters worse it smelled so bad I was wondering if maybe it was not mud at all.
I took a quick picture and headed to another line where there were some man-made showers where people were hosing off. That line didn’t move either, so I followed some other athletes back to the creek and jumped in. After the race, it was not only great to get the mud off, but the water was cool and felt so awesome I could have hung out there forever. All good things come to an end.
I was a little surprised that of all the races I participated in, this was the one race where I didn’t come across a single person I knew. It was kind of lonely actually. I must make a better effort to coordinate to run with friends next time.
On my way out of the park, back to my car, I did see something I never saw before. A bull decided to run right through the expo into the woods. Mooing and galloping like you see on TV but never in real life. He looked pretty majestic and strong with a brown and white coat and a full set of horns. I did see him through the trees trotting away until he stopped to graze a little. It was definitely an interesting experience.
Just a quick epilogue. The last heat was scheduled for 1 pm but at 1:30 as I was heading out I noticed a new heat just getting started. After talking with some other athletes, it turned out that if I had not picked up my packet early, I would have had to wait over two hours in that line. I would have missed my heat and had to start much later.
Due to the waiting, I ended up with a time of 91 minutes and change. Not the best. I will have to sign up a little earlier for the next mud run and obtain an earlier heat in order to actually compete and find what I could actually do. I do, however, encourage all my running and triathlon friends to give these mud runs a chance. They are really a lot of fun despite the 45-minute shower needed afterward.