One of the biggest pieces of advice I remember hearing from other DR finishers was to never quit at night. Nighttime has a way of getting into people’s heads, and I even felt the despair of night during the first 12 hours of the race. Needless to say I was a little apprehensive about the second night, especially since we were now standing before Joe awaiting our next challenge. He started with a blunt, yet honest request. “Who here is feeling mostly at 100%?” commanded the man who seemingly ushered in the night. I raised my hand and walked towards the group that was going to be known as the strong group. Even though I was hurting (surprise, everyone was), I knew that it would be foolish to show any weakness whatsoever. Doing so would be essentially showing them your exact weak point for them to target and exploit, and I wasn’t going to start doing that. Once we were separated into our self-perceived groups of strength we were given our very simple, yet agonizing task.

3,000 burpees.

No, I didn’t mistakenly add in a zero to that number, that’s three thousand burpees. “If you finish early you can sleep” said Joe. “I’ll be back here at 6:45am and you all had better get 3,000 burpees done!”. The revelation of that challenge immediately caused two people to quit and take the ATV ride down the mountain. Deep down a part of me knew that there was no way that we would actually have to do the full amount, and that Joe would come the next morning and simply say he changed the rules to accommodate whatever amount of burpees we did manage to do and give a tip of the ol’ hat to the easement-of-rules speech he gave at the beginning of the race. Shrouded in disbelief, I nevertheless fell in line with the strong group led by the woman who would become the absolute superstar of the night – Amy.

Amy didn’t mess around. Immediately she set a pace for our burpees that she would lead through the entire night. “Down! Up! Jump!” would be the cadence we’d be hearing for a very, very long time. The setup we made was simple. We’d do ten burpees and take a ten second break. At 100 burpees we’d take a 3 to 5 minute break to get water and food. This worked well at first, but it was clear that many of the members in the strong group were not going to be able to keep up the pace. One by one folks would walk over to the “weak” group, where they were given the same task of 3,000 burpees, only that they’d be starting at whatever number the weak group was on (which was hundreds less). Whenever I’d walk over to my gear to grab some food I’d take a glance at them and it was clear that there was no way that they were going to reach 3,000. Knowing that we were approaching the 48 hour mark of the race soon, eliminations and DNFs were going to ramp up drastically. I didn’t want to slow down and risk being put into the weak group because I thought it meant certain DNF, so I ran straight back to the strong group to get ready for our next set of 100. I never let go of the math in my head, though. If burpees burn around 9-12 calories per minute, and we’re going to be at this for hours….

That’s a lot of freaking calories burnt.

Also, our water was about empty. Being drenched in sweat I knew that I was going to need to rehydrate constantly. This was the point where we were only 200 burpees in, by the way. Dread had started to fill our heads. What if we run out of food/water? What if we can’t get 3,000 burpees done? What if we can’t keep this insane pace up? What if-

Shut up.

The doubtful part of my mind was struggling to escape the door that I had shut it behind at the start of the race. Foolishly I had let the door open just a crack and I could feel that part of my mind desperately clamoring for validation of its snuffed-out existence. I remembered what I asked myself when I was training for this race. “Can you do a burpee? Yes? Then you can do any amount possible”. I felt the heavy door slowly close again at the same moment that I saw other people’s doors spill open as they hung their bibs up on the side of Shrek’s Cabin in defeat. A warm fire awaited those who quit, and the “quitter cart” ATV would make stops throughout the night to bring them back to Riverside where snacks, a warm blanket and a place to sleep awaited them. I rationalized my decision to stay simply by saying to myself “I’ve got all of those things to enjoy when this event is over. It’s just a weekend of pain for a lifetime of glory”.

The burpee count hit 500, and we gave ourselves even more time to rest this time. I broke open a MetRX bar with a side of lakewater-infused shot blocks. Compliments to the chef! There were some 5 gallon buckets filled with river water that we dipped our bottles in as well, slurping the cool water through a lifestraw wasn’t that bad at all actually. I noticed a lot of people keeping their heads down, so I made it a point to keep mine up. I spoke to people, asking why they were here and if they needed anything from me. Despite struggling on my own, reaching out to other people instilled a strength in me that welded that door of doubt completely shut in my mind. With our break ending it was time to get back to the grind – 2,500 burpees remaining and Amy was still leading fiercely. Then I started walking to our strong group my heart instantly sank at what I saw next.

Matt Dolitsky had quit.

I looked at him in disbelief, literally lifting his shirt up to see if he was joking but sure enough his bib was not there. He was perfectly content with his decision, and to be fair I completely understood. This was his fifth death race, and he had a handful of finisher skulls already in his possession. He had nothing extra to prove and he only signed up since the event was $4.31 and a 30 minute drive from his house. It was clear that his body and mind were still able to easily crush the event, but his heart had long since taken another route. I gave him a hug and wished him the best, and that’s all I could do.

In the back of my mind I was astonished at how far I had gone, and that I could actually say that I made it further than him for this specific event. It wasn’t in my interests to compare myself with anybody else however. The best thing I could do for myself is to continue on, he was rooting for me now, and I was going to carry the torch for him.

The next 500 burpees went by at the same pace as the previous 500, knocking out one more person into the weak group in the process. The 100 burpee breaks were nice, though. I remember laying down on the cold dew laden grass and just looking up at the milky way and the millions of stars that were splattered across the night sky. I’ll never forget seeing that and then quickly nodding off to sleep in quick 5 minute intervals. Hitting 1,000 burpees was a milestone in itself, but it became clear that there wasn’t going to be any rescue or easement of the rules. Joe or any other staff weren’t going to magically intervene and tell us that we’ve done enough. We were committed to 3,000 burpees no matter what! By then the medics had gotten fresh water up the mountain for us to refill our packs and I managed to get some extra food off of somebody who had quit. Despite the burpee count increasing, the situation was getting better. That was basically the entire night – a series of ups and downs. The next downer came when my friend Leo had to bow out. His knee was pretty much shot and he was starting to vomit, so it was just myself left from Team Regiment now. Sure, my triceps and abs were cramping and I was entering REM sleep during the short ten second breaks, but I was fully capable of finishing this thing. 1,000 burpees turned to 2,000 and our pace actually increased! We shortened the long breaks and some intervals went to 20 burpees now instead of 10. We did however put a short break at the 50 burpee mark, which translated into a one-minute nap for everyone.

Daylight started to break and we were only a couple hundred burpees away from 3,000! We had a nice system in place and our pace was constantly increasing as we came closer and closer to the prize. The sooner we hit 3,000, the sooner we can take that break! Our break times shortened even more, but I still had time to run over to my pack and constantly shovel food in my mouth. I knew that endurance events are eating contests, and those who forget tend to learn the hard way. While rummaging through my food I noticed people in the other groups were only in the low 1,000s for their burpee count and they weren’t even doing a full burpee. One person was literally just jumping, hunching over for a second and then jumping again. As frustrating as it was to see, I knew that somebody would be noticing, and that Joe would be turning a corner any minute now to DNF those who failed to reach 3,000. I focused back on myself and got the remainder of our 3,000 burpees done: