It was Desiree and her dog Roxy! I was trying to find them all day long and to finally see them so close to the finish was amazing! I jumped up the rope and hit the bell with no effort whatsoever and I trotted over to the wall, all the while being circled by Roxy wanting to play with me. Todd stood behind me to tell me where to move my hands around the wall as I desperately grabbed for each wooden block. My body was succumbing to the falling temperatures quickly. My fingers became numb and my grip strength was waning fast, I had to move through this quick. I got around the outside of the wall and reached my foot as far as I could to the next block, all the while holding on to both blocks with my quivering hands as hard as possible. Finishing the UltraBeast with only 30 burpees to my name would be an amazing feat, but as soon as that thought crossed my mind my hands gave out and I fell to the ground. I nodded in frustrated acceptance and walked behind Todd as he attempted the wall, only to follow suit. The best part of these burpees however was knowing that the worst was now over, and it also helped that Roxy was still running circles around me, as if my burpees told her it was playtime. I forget the conversation I had with Desiree as we all did our burpees. I’m pretty sure it was incoherent babble by that point as my mind was constantly teetering on collapse. I could hear the music in the festival area by now, taunting me as the bass from whatever distant song thumped in unison with my labored heart. I was so close…

I choose the largest log for the atlas carry, knowing that I wouldn’t have to use my arms again. After downing a big gulp of water I took my pack off and began my downhill roll through the longest low crawl I have ever seen at any Spartan race, again. Everybody else by this point spoke in the same incoherent delirium as we acknowledged each other’s accomplishments with high fives and brief words of encouragement through this low crawl. After what seemed like an eternity I rolled out of the final line of wire and then immediately downed my last salt pack. Being so close to the finish line would be an easy excuse for my muscles to give out by this point, and I didn’t want to crawl through the finish line, though I was fully prepared and willing to do if that’s what it took.

Todd and I hobbled as fast as we could through the narrow expanse of downhill trails that led to the log hurdles and one very last obstacle, the spear throw. Though the glow of the fire jump tickled my peripheral vision, I did not dare distract myself with the sight of that finish line. It wasn’t over yet. I had to stick this spear throw first. With careful concentration I lobbed the spear perfectly straight into the dead center of the target! Though before I could shout for joy the spear lazily slumped out of the hay and fell to the ground with a dull clatter. I guess that’s what happens when the target you’re throwing spears into had been torn apart for the last 13 hours, right? Just as I turned to the burpee station I noticed that Todd missed his throw as well. One last sucker punch by the race before we could claim our destiny, I suppose? Completely on the razors edge of mental collapse we stumbled over to do our last set of burpees. Only thirty burpees separated us from the finish. Every single burpee we do is one step closer to our goal. Every burpee completed means I’m closer to the moment I have waited three years to experience. It was right there, just behind the fire jump!

But… something else stood in front of that fire jump.

With my eyes already watering up I noticed the blurred outline of a person standing before me. “GO NEIL! YOU GOT THIS!” said the figure fanatically shouting before me. My eyes gradually came into focus and Alan Ajoy came into view with he and his friends' Ultra Beast medals already around their necks! I knew that he and his friends were rooting for me for the past couple of years, and his words of encouragement through those troubling times were sometimes the only thing I could lean on for support, and there he stood right in front of me! I didn’t want to show him how emotional I had become by this point, so I turned away from him and continued to push out my burpees as best as I could, making sure I delivered to the spectators an example of what perfect burpees look like. Todd and I each had a spectator (or volunteer? I didn’t notice) counting out our burpees, which was nice since we probably lacked the mental capacity to count by this point anyways. I specifically remember burpee number 19, 22, 27 and 28 being difficult. Every one of those burpees came with my friends cheering me on despite my legs buckling underneath me. I was fading as fast as the sun was melting into the horizon. Once I hit my 30, I waited for Todd. While I waited Alan came up to me and gave me a hug, and that’s when I let it happen.

The lump in my throat could no longer hold as the floodgates of stifled emotion finally broke through after being loosely held intact for the last 13 hours. Three years had led to this moment, and I had finally given myself permission through a simple hug from Alan to let it all out. I cried it out for a good fifteen seconds as every encouraging and congratulatory word he spoke struck me to my core. I thought back to the hours spent every day training for this very moment… the sacrifices made by not only myself but by my wife to accommodate my vigorous schedule had almost brought me to my knees, but I wasn’t going to crawl to this finish line. I was going to finish strong. With my last ounce of strength I stayed on my feet and looked over to the finish line. “Get your medal Neil!” said Alan with a slap to my back. It felt like everything was in slow motion by this point. Head defiantly held up high, I nodded and bolted over the fire jump, the embers parting around me as I saw the sight that was long overdue – the finish line.