Don Devaney of course had us moving with a purpose while occasionally punishing people for moving too slow or hiding behind the team, but the task in itself was time consuming but fulfilling. After it was complete we were all lined up in the plank position, “I need eight volunteers, NOW” bellowed Don as he paced up and down the line of planked racers. True to my efforts to step up and lead, I raised my hand and ran over to the huddled group of other volunteers who threw their name into the hat of whatever unknown task awaits us. Once the eight were determined, the remaining folks split from us and started doing more PT at a nearby basketball court. “Glad I volunteered” uttered a few of the participants as we set forth to our next destination – the general store.

To those who aren’t aware, Joe DeSena owns practically half of Pittsfield by now including the general store and Amee farm and lodge. Our next task was one of the signature “do Joe’s chores” task that was meant to make people think that this was stupid and attempt to drop from the race. What was this stupid task that I’m eluding to, you ask? Brace yourselves, because it’s some next-level dumb shit!

Don and Jason shuffled us in to the back entrance of the store and introduced us to the next task. “We’re going to be moving both of these entire pizza ovens to Amee farm”, instructed the taskmaster as we all lined up out back. The smells of the food being cooked wafted into my nose, tantalizingly knotting up my stomach in hunger for an actual warm meal. Piece by massive piece, we slowly moved the massive ovens over to Jason’s truck and over to the farm. The entire task must have taken at least four hours to complete. There were pieces sticking out of the oven that we had to take off, narrow passageways through the store that we had to negotiate the behemoth of a piece through and then with every ounce of strength lift up on to Jason’s truck to then unpack and set up at the farm. Despite how cumbersome and sucky the task was, I took delight in every little good thing that I experienced such as the brief minutes of sitting in his car in the cool AC, or getting a packet of applesauce from Jason, to getting awkwardly little-spooned by Euan Campbell in the bed of the truck on the way back (yeah that part was a little freaking weird but ok).

Once that burdensome task was completed we were sent over to Riverside farm to await further instructions. It turns out that we were there earlier than the rest of the teams which in the Death Race meant that we had to do some busywork tasks while the others trickled in. “Get your gear and get some food” were the ominous words from the taskmaster. You know things are about to get real when you’re offered a small break to eat and drink, and this was certainly no exception. About 28 of us lined up in front of Don and Jason in front of the white barn for our next task. The sun baked into our skin as they outlined our next do-or-die challenge. The first seven people to complete the following tasks were allowed to remain into the race.

· Race to the top of the mountain to Shrek’s cabin and back down

· Run to the pond, swim to the other side and back and submerge for 20 seconds

· Run back to the brown barn and start a fire

Those who couldn’t hack it fast enough were to be kicked off the farm and sent home. This was it. “Can we get some water really quick before we start?” Jason shook his head in frustration “NO. THREE…TWO…ONE… GO!”

My mind immediately dug into the memories of the low crawl elimination challenge last year. This was not going to happen again… no way in hell was I going to let that happen again. I don’t care how much it hurts, I was going to do everything in my power to not only be in the top seven for this challenge, but I was going to finish first. Right away I sprinted to the foothills of the mountain, jogging side by side two other frontrunners. I couldn’t yield a single inch of ground to them. I had to do this for Wil, but most importantly I had to do this for myself! Step by labored sweat-ridden step I inched ahead of the other frontrunners, making it to the top of Shrek’s cabin where an integrity-checker verified my bib number and gave me the thumbs up to run down. The race was down to just me and one other person vying for first place with a major gap separating us from the remainder of the pack. This was evident as we sprinted down the mountain past those who were still making their way up. I remember passing by Randy and shouting words of encouragement as I knew the exact thoughts going through his mind at this elimination challenge. He got dropped at the same time last year and I knew he was putting out as much effort as he could! I then crossed paths with Eric who was clearly showing signs of heat exhaustion but still pushing upwards. About ten more quick exchanges of “good luck” and “keep pushing you got this”, I found myself far into the lead as I shot down the mountain with a reckless speed that guaranteed my intended 1st place finish… and then it happened.

After turning a technical corner, I felt the ground below my left foot shift followed by a grinding CRUNCH and pop that sent shockwaves of pain from my ankle up my entire leg. Memories of my 2013 mishap immediately flooded my mind as I took my first step to gauge just how badly I just shredded my ankle. My worst fears were confirmed when the first step felt like a red-hot poker was being jabbed into my foot. The pain roared up my entire body as I yelped in pain. This was bad. Very… very bad.

Still desperate to finish 1st in the challenge I moved as fast as I could in a hobbled run, occasionally stopping to walk the technical switchbacks that jabbed pain up my foot to the tune of my belabored heartbeat. The runner behind me finally caught up as we neared the exit of the trail back into Riverside farm. “C’mon man you got this, use my shoulder”. Holding back tears of pain and heartfelt appreciation for his kind gesture, I looked over and realized that it was my land nav running buddy Ben from earlier in the day. “Ben, just go man, this is an elimination challenge you can’t afford to help people right now” I said while barely holding my emotion in one piece. “Nah, we’ve got a sizable lead on everyone. We’re getting through this” he said, accepting no other alternative. I nodded and ran as fast as I could, forcing my foot to swell so that it could become numb to the shockwaves of pain that buzzed through my entire leg. If I had to complete the rest of this event on a torn apart ankle in order to finish, then that’s what I was going to do. I couldn’t let Wil down because of something stupid and simple such as pain, no matter how mind-numbingly intense it was. I winced in pain less and less as it normalized in my mind, thinking back again to David Goggin’s famous words as the fields of Riverside Farm presented itself… “So the fuck be it”.