I've been in the midst of my lifestyle
change for nearly three years. During that time, I've been trying new
methods of staying active and proving that I could do new, unfamiliar
activities. Indoor rock climbing. One-hundred-and-six-degree Bikram
yoga. And most notably, 5K and obstacle runs. I've always been fat,
and even after losing more than 100 pounds, I still am. But I've
really grown to love running, even if I don't have the most speed,
most stamina nor best form. After running an obstacle mud race in
March, my buddy and running mate suggested we do Tough Mudder, a
10-12-mile mud, dirt, water, ice, electric shock and ice bath filled
obstacle course that requires not only physical strength and
endurance, but also mental grit. It took a week, but I agreed to run!
Months of running, gym time, rock
climbing and yoga led us River Ranch, Fla. It was finally Saturday
Nov. 2, the day we'd been waiting for since March. The team had
assembled, we'd obtained our running bibs, our faces were painted,
the pre-race instructions were given and we were off! Trent, Kyle,
John and Ally ran ahead while Gabe, Leanna and I brought up the rear.
Throughout 12 grueling miles, we ran, jogged, walked, trudged, dealt
with rain, sloshed through mud and muddy water, crawled through water
while being electrically shocked, climbed over walls, ran up a half
pipe, fully submerged ourselves in a container full of ice, and one
of us even did most of it all while barefoot. It wasn't a pretty run
on my part. I was the slowest person on the team and the last to
cross the finish line, but goddamn it, I finished that mudder fudder!
Finishing Tough Mudder was important.
The ends are almost always important. But it was the means by which I
finished that make me most proud of myself and, more importantly,
most grateful to have run with my teammates and thousands of runners
I didn't even know. Before running, every participant took a pledge
that stated that we understood Tough Mudder wasn't a race but a
challenge, would make teamwork and camaraderie our top priorities and
were to help our fellow Mudders complete the course. Just like with
the other aspects of Tough Mudder, I definitely was not underwhelmed
with the execution of that pledge.
Whenever I was tired and walked instead
of ran, complete strangers, having seen “Randy Love” on the back
of my shirt, would address me as such and encourage me to pick up the
pace. My upper body strength is decent but I'm still approximately
270 pounds, so I would not have been able to climb the walls or make
it up the half pipe had it not been for my teammates and the random
runners who TOLD me I was going to climb said walls and then helped
me over the obstacles. When I was nearly finished with an obstacle
and needed a mental or physical push or pull, Gabe, Leanna and
whomever else was nearby grabbed my hands and got me through. During
mile 10, after climbing through an inclined muddy pipe, and 90
percent of my get up and go got up and left, I can't even count how
many strangers yelled something like, “COME ON, RANDY LOVE! YOU GOT
THIS!”
Approximately four hours and 15 minutes
after we began running, Gabe, Leanna and I ran across the finish line
the same way we ran across the start line: together! Our white shirts
tainted grayish brown, we hugged it out with me knowing without a
doubt I would not have finished without them. I'm physically fit to
an extent, yet I'm still 50 pounds over weight. And no matter how
much I enjoy running, even I have my limits. I wish I could say thank
you to those girls in that team with the black and orange shirts who,
every time they passed me, yelled “IT'S RANDY LOVE!” I want to
buy a drink for the team who let me have some of their vodka and Red
Bull. I want to be Facebook friends with the group from Jacksonville
who walked the mile with us in the chest-deep muddy water. I wish I
could give a coat and some hummus to George, the man with
“Mediterranean blood,” who we had to coax into jumping in the ice
bath. I want to thank Gabe and the Mudder volunteers who pulled me up
Everest. I want to wish well the man who hurt his knee and had to
pull while in the 11th of 12 miles.
It's now Sunday evening. I'm home,
typing while laying in my bed and watching TV. My legs and feet are
sore beyond belief. My right elbow hurts a bit when I bend it, and
I'm constantly finding bruises, cuts and scrapes on multiple parts of
my body. Tough Mudder was one of the most grueling experience I've
ever had, one that's left hobbling when I walk. I should want to
spend weeks in bed watching TV. Fuck all of that noise. I can't wait
to heal so that I can get back to my workouts. Because when – I
said when, not if – I compete in my next Mudder, I want to finish
earlier, contribute more and not have to be the one who needs
lifting out of or over an obstacle. Tough Mudder, I'm coming for that
ass in 2014!
