My Tough Mudder Memoire

The Pledge

My day started at 4:10 in the morning, with me jumping promptly out of the hotel bed as the alarm on my boyfriend’s cell rang out. When I know I have a schedule, I wake up rather quickly. My boyfriend, however, is a little more grizzly bear in his approach to wakefulness. A first breakfast of shakeology is quickly consumed and while the boyfriend is taking his sweet time in the bathroom, I start prepping my more substantial food: a banana and two bagels. One is covered with peanut butter, the other with cream cheese. An odd choice for food, but I still have a ways to go before I start my challenge.

After my boyfriend finally shambles out of the bathroom, he consumes his own banana and shake and I throw myself into the clothes I am running the Mudder in. A sports bra, drawstring sweat pants, a wick tank top, athletic toes socks and Fila skeletoes. Then my boyfriend used some Pirate themed hockey tape to tape me INTO my shoes as I had been warned that the mud obstacles are shoe thieves. By 5:00 in the morning we are geared up and in the car, plugging the GPS with the postal code of where to go to park our car and shuttle to the event. I was less than impressed when the GPS led us to a residential area that had NOTHING to do with the actual location we were trying to reach. After a brilliant moment of panic, I figured out how to find the location we ACTUALLY needed and we arrived in time to join the massive cue of cars waiting to park in a field. I will take off my hat and salute Tough Mudder for having even this organized down to an art form. We were quickly ushered in, paid our $10 cash parking fee and quickly directed to a parking space that we left our car to for the day. Surprisingly, neither one of us was worried about leaving it parked in a field, surrounded by HUNDREDS of other cars, with a constant set of volunteers watching over the lot.

Making sure nothing we needed was left in the car, my boyfriend and I then walked the path to get seats on an old fashioned yellow school bus, feeling a nostalgic sense of ridiculous as we sat in the cheap vinyl seats. Of course, it was RATHER amusing to see Mike, my 6’3 tall boyfriend try to FIT into those tiny, tiny seats. I had eaten both of my bagels by this time, it was about 6:45 in the morning and my start time was 8:15 am. The shuttle got us to the event site of Mount St Louie Moonstone with plenty of time to spare. Which was fantastic because I signed in quickly while Mike bought his spectator ticket with a little less speed, but it was still an efficient set up. And suddenly I needed to pee, a combination of nerves, cold morning air and the liquids I had already downed in anticipation. The two of us watched as the first heat of the day was called to the starting line and I realized that the organizers of Tough Mudder were not only serious about challenging us all, but they also had a sense of humour. To reach the start, you had to climb over a 6 foot tall wood wall. Beyond that obstacle was the staring congregation area where the beginnings of the magic pooled. 

Now I feel the need to point out that at 5’7, 163-ish pounds, I am not exactly athletic looking yet. I look solid, but I still look soft. Many, many of the other Mudders-to-be, looked like fitness models. I was getting some looks from people and their faces clearly said that they did not believe I was going to make it through this. After some moral building, the first heat headed out and it was my turn to kiss the boyfriend goodbye and scale the beginning wall. Having seen several others need assistance up the wall and a few stealthfully sneaking around it, and many others vaulting over it with ease, I had no sense of how I was going to do with this first hurdle. Thankfully, I used some latent skills I’d earned with parkour and wall popped to get my grip on the top, hiked a leg over the edge and hauled myself over. I landed on the other side with ease and stood in the crowd of my fellow Mudders-to-be. According to Mike, there were others watching me get over the wall who seemed flatly surprised I’d made it in my first attempt, let alone without help.

The MC of the start is a brilliantly enthusiastic man who’s name I do not know. The music from 2001 a space odyssey was blaring and getting my heart rate primed and while we filled the start area, it played to crescendo. Once we were all properly primed, the MC had us all come closer to the front, and do a group arm sway to the pounding of loud music. This helped me not absolutely work myself up with nerves as the clock ticked ever closer to my start time, and I focused on the MC’s words the way a dying man listens to his priest’s last rites. We were all instructed to take a knee and listen as he hammered home the fact that the men and women around us might not be wearing the same coloured team shirt, but we were all a team. Then we stood and built up more moral by playing a little military style simon says as the MC jazzed us up by yelling Tough to which we replied Mudder, Team and we yelled Pride, Wounded, and we hollered Warrior And we ended with another Team Pride of epic proportions. The national anthem rang out after that and silenced us once again, facing the Maple Leaf as I felt my blood tingle and my heart rage as adrenaline crested in my veins. Moments before we headed out we recited the Tough Mudder Pledge.

As a Tough Mudder I pledge that:

- I understand that Tough Mudder is not a race but a challenge

- I put teamwork and camaraderie before my course time

- I do not whine -- kids whine

- I help my fellow Mudders complete the course

- I overcome all fears

And then we were given the 10 second count down and my challenge started for real. The pack of us headed out, moving slowly at first so that no one jostled each other or ran the others over, our unity inspired by the clever words of the MC and the very pledge we had just sworn to. I will freely admit that I am not a runner. I can run, I will run when necessary, but it is not something I do with joy, passion or love. But I jogged at a decent pace for the first half kilometer, slowing to a walk when the path we followed took a sudden ascent up a gravel path that threatened to turn ankles within the first 30 minutes of starting. This would be the easiest climb of the day. The trail we followed curled away from spectator eyes and soon enough I was not the only one conserving my energy by walking, many others scaled with reserve and we were motivated along by friendly little Mudder posted signs, like ‘If you’re huffing and puffing now, I feel sorry for your significant other.’