What made me smile at this was the inspirational pictures and quotes people would put on their bins.

The course continued on towards another slight downhill run. This was another opportunity to solidify my time advantage and eliminate any doubts about making the very last cutoff point of mile 23 (actually 27) by 7pm. With a big grin I started my downhill sprint at what I thought was going to be another stretch of sub 7 minute miles. That grin turned into a wincing grimace of pain after about 100 yards when I felt the same ankle that I injured just a mile before twist and sprain in the exact same spot. The next 3-4 miles were not going to be spent running. Instead, they were to be spent limping as others rocketed past me. Confident that my previous run gained enough of an advantage and in my ignorance of the course actually being around 30 miles instead of 26.2, I limped onwards to the next series of obstacles. After a long ‘hobie hop’, swaying monkey bars, low crawl and 20 foot wall climb the uphill grind continued. It was at this point where my body thought me another lesson. If you don’t eat 100-200 calories per hour, you will crash. Ignoring this advice for the last three hours, I started to notice hallucinatory colors starting to swim into my peripheral vision. After quickly wolfing down some clif bars, crackers and gel, my vision slowly returned to normal and I trudged onwards to the drop box station once more.

The next six miles consisted of sparse obstacles on slippery, rocky terrain. In fact, one of the mountains was so slippery that Spartan HQ decided at the last minute to divert from that mountain and on to an alternate 2+ mile route. Hours trickled by as constant inclines and declines dotted the course which eventually led to the top of a foggy mountaintop. The end of the ultra route was marked with the same wall climb that brought us on to the ultra course a good 8 hours prior. Only nine miles of the remaining beast course remain! As soon as this point was reached, I got smoked with more obstacles. It was by this point where the cold air and all-out body fatigue started to reach the edge of tolerance. What pushed me even closer to the edge was another sprain to the exact same ankle while going down a muddy slope. If you’re keeping track – that’s three sprains on the same foot. All through this time, I had a slowly progressing pain in my knee that made bending the knee while moving an agonizing challenge. Suffice to say, my left leg was in pretty poor condition. The only relief I had for my leg was the occasional branch that I would pick up and use as an impromptu cane. However there was one thing I kept repeating in my head during these times. With the same smile glued to my face, I would repeat the motto of my team, “feel the pain of discipline, or feel the pain of regret”. In hindsight, a better phrase of running on an injury this severe would be “if you’re gonna’ be dumb, you’ve gotta’ be tough”. By this point, I knew that those demons were ready to come out, and I was ready for them. Or so I thought.

The miles were endless, and the obstacles never failed to bring a smile to my face. In fact I had succeeded in every single obstacle up to the second spear throw. The spear lodged into the hay target perfectly, but due to a half-day of constant abuse the hay was too loose and the spear slipped right back out and on to the ground. The 30 penalty burpees were a blessing in disguise. Everybody was cold and wet from a day of constant light rain and dropping temperatures, so these burpees had the bonus of warming you up in the 39 degree weather. The next miles were a blur up until the point where I arrived at the finish line area to do a submerge obstacle, rope climb and low crawl. Shivering and hobbling on a makeshift walking stick, the crowd’s recognition of my green wristband (given to the ultra racers during the ultra course) and subsequent cheers brought even more good vibes to me. You see, despite all of the pain pumping through my left leg I never once felt sorry for myself or had the slightest urge to complain. The death racers were out on the same course I was in and if they can keep a smile on their face after hour 50, what cause would I have to not do the same? All I felt was positive energy and a willingness to persevere. While rolling through the barbed wire, a lady recognized my condition and ran alongside the spectator area to cheer me on. She even gave me a high five, and I LOVE high fives! Whoever you are – thank you for being awesome.

With the end in sight, the next set of obstacles involved plunging into the freezing water. As soon as I jumped into that water, I immediately felt the icy numbing grip of the cold take over. I frantically swam over to the first rope climb and started to pull myself up. The reason why I elaborate on this obstacle is that I typically dominate the rope climbs with ease. This was definitely not one of those times. Halfway up the rope, my arm muscles froze. Violently shivering and holding on to the rope for dear life, I attempted to pull myself up while ‘biting’ the rope with my legs. This didn’t work either. Despite the deadened, frozen nerves of my left leg, a sharp jab of pain disabled my leg. With both arms and one leg completely trashed, I shamefully plunged back down to crank out my 30 burpees. Oh, and all of my burpees after this point had to be done on one leg. My left leg was that ruined.

Next was the traverse wall, which was another obstacle I typically dominate. However, being in the partially functioning state I was in I was a mere 4 feet from the bell when my arms couldn’t hold on any longer. Trembling from the cold, I warmed up with the 30 penalty burpees. It was at this point when my friends that I saw earlier in the course caught up to me since they had to do the burpees as well. Our ragtag team of ‘burpee buddies’ had the option of opting out of the second swim and Tarzan swing by doing 60 burpees. With everybody violently shivering we unanimously agreed to do the 60 burpees. Let it be known that it was in this area that my hotel was located. In fact, I could see my hotel balcony a mere 50 feet from where I was doing my burpees. I knew I was going to see this. I knew that the day before, one of the people in our hotel actually quit right then and there with the temptation of a warm room and a shower just yards away from them. Knowing this temptation was in front of me; I merely grinned and pointed at that balcony saying “see you later tonight; I’ve just got to finish something real quick”.