"Please don't hurt me big, burly Marine men!" That's all I could think the Wednesday before I left to fly to LA for the race. After 3 years of build up I had the worst nerves for the whole ordeal. What if I get out there and I am not in good enough shape? What if I can't do the obstacles? What if I'm slower than my goal time? What if I injure myself?
I'm glad I had a day or two with the family to help get my head into the game. Nothing like your parents talking you up to get your confidence up.
The night before we drove down to Carlsbad to spend the night so we wouldn't be waking up at the butt crack of dawn and risk hitting the infamous LA traffic. While we were checking in I saw a few other people who said they were "There for the Mud Run." I think that's when the competitor in me got excited. All I could think was "I got that guy."
The morning of was rushed, but so much fun. It was clear my family had yet to experience race day for runners. NASCAR we have in the bag, but running, we need to get together and coach the players. Mom should be in charge of conditioning, Dad, hydration, Justin, navigation and strategy. Does everyone have their assignment? Good! Break!
On the way there we saw a huge line of tanks rolling through the base heading somewhere out into the hills (which, oh yeah, did I mention, Camp Pendleton has flat valleys and then huuuugggeee hills). When we stopped at the checkpoint and had the Marine check my ID my heart started to race because I finally made it there...It was official, I was going to run at Camp Pendleton even if it was to watch the start of my own race as I pulled up late. We speed through the base with Dad going "Hey, do you think you'll have to run any of these hills? These things are huge." Why is it that when people point out the obvious to you its the first time you have the realization? Why is that? These hills were staring me in the face and the first time I realized I was going to be running them was 30 seconds before we pulled in to park.
Running behind, in typical Lofton fashion, Justin and I set off on foot instead of taking our chances with the shuttle bus. As we got closer I said adios to the broham and sprinted over to the registration tables, grabbed a number, and sprinted over to the start line to get in the coral.
A few minutes later we were off. The course immediately narrowed into a trail that was only wide enough for 3 people, so the start went something like slow jog, walk, walk, slow jog, jog, slow jog, walk, walk. Rather frustrating for that first mile. The one thing that kept me going and pumped up was that somewhere just over the hill the tanks we had seen were firing mortar rounds. All you could hear was "BOOM...BOOM....BOOOOOOM!!" and you'd feel the ground under your feet start to shake a little.
Mile one and mile two I found a Marine that was there going through the course in full gear. He stayed just a little bit ahead of me for the first mile but by the second mile we were battling each other to see who could stay in front of the other. We switched positions a few times, but by the end of mile two we were heading into the most challenging obstacle on the course...Suicide Hill.
The hill is a 200 foot incline that starts at 2.0 and goes to around 2.2. Basically, what that means is it goes from flat to vertical. I think that was the point where people started to spread out more. My strategy was to do a fast walk up the hill (meaning as fast as I could walk without actually jogging). That strategy was devised for 2 reasons, 1) to save energy for the other hills and obstacles coming up so I didn't burn out early in the race, and 2) longer term protection from injury since the marathon is right around the bend.
I made it up the hill but the hill hadn't ended. The grading had backed down at that point but the hill continued for another 1.5 miles. By the time we got to the down hill I was so happy! Downhill is where I do my best. I can lengthen my stride and I feel like I could run for days. This downhill though was no joke. Honestly, when I looked at the downhill portion on the elevation chart beforehand I didn't even consider how a 400 foot drop over 1/2 a mile would feel. I was shocked but towards the end of that downhill I was actually thinking "I wish it would go uphill again, this is killing my joints."
It was after the downhill portion that most of the mud obstacles started. We had the first wall. When I reviewed the course, I thought the wall obstacle was just a wall you got to and climbed and kept going. Fair assumption. In reality, you first climb into a mud pit, then wade your way to the wall, where then and only then can you climb the wall, where you find what waiting on the other side...ahh yes, more mud.
After the first wall you head around a bend and the Marines had drained out one of the lakes. The athletes run through the bottom of the lake bed where every step gets heavier and heavier as the mud cakes onto your shoes. The cool part about that portion was, that just as I was running through the middle of the lake one of the Marine planes flew overhead. I got excited to think that just up above me there was a group of some of the toughest guys looking down seeing how tough I was.
Then there was a river crossing, then there was another wall, then there was the mud hill. Let's pause here for a moment if you will. Imagine if you will walking up the side of a 3 or 4 story building and looking up. Then imagine if you will, this building has a beautiful water feature going through the middle. Now imagine that it's not a building, its a hill. Now imagine that the hill really is that muddy from all of the water spewing down it. That's right, the Marines had a water truck used for putting out fires and had the hose blowing water down the hill full force. The water had carved a gully down the middle of the hill and the only walkable portion (and yes you were forced to slow to a walk) was on the sides about one person wide. When I got to the top the Marines said "You only have one more mile left." Ughhh shoot me!
The good news was that the rest of the course was downhill. So again, I was booking it. Of course the Marines where lined all along that last mile. You wouldn't have wanted to slow down even if you felt like it, because the Marines weren't exactly offering subtle words of encouragement. This was hard core Marine madness. "MOVE IT! GET DOWN THAT HILL! DON'T STOP! DON'T SLOW DOWN!" I even heard one Marine yell at one of the men who had decided he was going to have a walk break "SUCK IT UP AND GET MOVING! THIS IS A MARINE COURSE HERE!"
Finally, I came to the infamous mud pit. I knew that somewhere out there the parentals were watching, and now was not the time to look exhausted. Now was the time to run like the wind and dive right in. The Marines were doing their thing there too. "GET IN THE MUD! DO NOT MAKE US PUT YOU IN THE MUD! YOU DO NOT WANT US TO PUT YOU IN THE MUD! CORPORAL, HELP GET THIS GENTLEMAN IN THE MUD!" The incentive was there to keep going.
Then it was a sprint all the way to the end. I knew I hadn't hit my goal time at that point, but with just a little bit left I had to try to shave as much off as I could, if even only a few seconds. My final finish time was 1'18" (official chip time) which put me 38 out of 153 in my age group. If you do the math, that's 25%. For my first run that was nothing to sneeze at. I was disappointed the day of the race but seeing the final placement a few days later put a big grin on my face. I'll take that finish! OOORAHHH!!! That's Marine for "Hooahh!"
