Never say never, right? Quick rewind to the beginning of 2012. I had been asked if I had ever heard of a Warrior Dash. My answer was no. As I was looking up Warrior Dash, a side banner popped up for Spartan Race. Now that sounded way cooler than a Warrior Dash. As I was reading the Spartan Race website the tab for The Death Race caught my eye. I KNEW I COULD NEVER do that! So fast forward to 2013 and over 50 different races under my feet, I found myself crewing at Summer Death Race 2013. It was that moment that I KNEW I WOULD NEVER do one. Fast forward again to the beginning of 2014. Sick as a dog- practically on bed rest for 30 days, heart broken and depleted I had a lot of time to think. Then my cousin passed away. It was that moment that I knew I needed to start living. I tossed around the idea to myself and reached also out to some DR veterans that I truly respected. All came back to me with a resounding... YOU CAN DO IT! Sooooo, I figured, fuck it, why not? I registered. I WAS GOING TO DO IT! I knew I had some work to do. I started researching gear and reaching out to friends for training tips and advice. I changed up my training and added more functional movements with Coach Dewayne. I started swimming and worked up to at least 1 day of 1 mile per week. My amazing friends created some epic training weekends for me, which they also took part in. All leading up to this day. Finally. It was here. I wasn't scared, I was anxious. Just ready for it to start already. The past 5 months all led up to this moment. I knew it would be tough, but as was my response to everyone that gave me well wishes and told me that skull would be mine, I would do my best. See, it was never about the skull for me. I had something to prove to myself. I had to face some realities that were too easy to ignore. I knew this race would change me.
It did.
I could talk more about the events leading up to SDR. From watching a team fail me, to being part of the rise of a new team. Not having a crew, to having the most amazing crew a girl could ask for. From feeling alone to knowing I had the world at my side. However, you don't want to read about that. Watch any Lifetime movie, same end result. Anyway, we arrived in Pittsfield early Thursday. I took Dan and Elizabeth to The Original General Store and we ate breakfast. We saw Andy Weinberg and he very kindly offered me my registration back if I just quit now. Yes, the games have begun. I smiled and laughed along with him and said not a chance. The excitement was building. I then took Dan and Elizabeth to the main checkpoints so they knew where we would be at. Ahhhh.... yes, we would be doing something with that great big pile of rocks!
Then we headed to our home for the next few days. The rest of the day was spent getting settled in, gear prep, meeting up with old friends, meeting new friends and then heading out to registration. Registered, dinner eaten, finally met THE wonderful Ray Morvan and we headed back to the house. I unpacked and repacked my pack a million times. With the help of my SISU family I finally got it figured out! Prepped my race clothes and we all did some foot maintenance...thanks again Rebecca...and then I reluctantly went to bed. Sleep came easy though.
Friday morning. It's go time. I was excited, focused and ready. After we checked in, all of the racers met in the corral and we had a quick briefing. This was going to be a real race. True time cutoffs and everything. I couldn't wait to get started. The entire time I knew to just have fun. That's what I was there for. Death Racers share a common bond... a true lust for life. We see things differently. Some of us are fast, some are super strong, some just believe in truly living each day, however we all have an unbreakable spirit and will to continue. From the beginning I knew I would not quit. I gave myself 2 reasons that would allow me to drop. And I didn't dwell on either of them. I had too many mother fuckers to prove wrong. Including myself. The next 66+ hours were among the most amazing I have ever spent in my life. From time trials, to team building, to individual tasks and everything in between. I faced my demons and as the proverbial patch says, I punched them in the face. I am slow, I am not super strong, but I have endurance and I can go on for days and days....
This was the Summer Death Race. I literally just went task to task, not thinking too much about what was coming next. I smiled and laughed. This was living. I saw so many other racers with despair on their faces. I would smile at them. Hopefully they caught that smile and passed it on to someone else. After all, we all need a little reassurance at times. I made all the time cuts, made it through all the mental bullshit, made it through to another day. Then the yellow bus and the white bus showed up. I chose the yellow bus. I don't know why, I just did. Don't think, just do, right? Since the finish, I have rethought my decision many times, but I'll get to that. We boarded and drove around. Some racers slept, some freaked out. I just enjoyed the view.
We ended up back at Riverside and this is where the shit started. More mind games, more of you're ending up here, but first you must go there. But first, back up the stone steps. So, at this point, both of my knee caps felt like they were going to explode right out of my skin, more ibuprofen, yes please? Knee braces? ...yes!!! I was slow, but I made it. I caught up to some other racers and as we headed down, we ran into a crew/support person. She had gone up to get the paper for 6 racers that couldn't make it. THAT COULDN'T FUCKING MAKE IT. You know who you are, I can only speculate. However I know who passed me on that mountain and who didn't. I hope you are proud of your finish. All I know is that I did every fucking burpee
, backroll
and trip up and down the mountain that I was tasked with. #DFQ
! At least I can look back and know I am not a cheat. Back to the race... we had some more fun little tasks to do and I still felt like a million bucks. I was very watchful of others. Quite a few weren't looking so hot and I tried to keep my eye on them. Little did I know I was moments away from getting my bib pulled. Maybe I was too overly confident? I figured at this point that there was no way I could not be considered a finisher.....
Funny how wrong you can be. It is The Death Race. It is their rules, it's their game. You just have to play along and learn to just handle each task at hand....
As we were headed back to Peter's house a fellow racer fell hard. I helped her up and called for another racer to grab the other half of her trekking pole that had broken. Another racer came over to assist. She fell again, we helped her up again. She fell a third time. He grabbed her arm and I told her to give me her pack. I stayed behind her in case she fell again. Unfortunately I bailed over the waterfall and they got ahead of me. It didn't matter. By sticking with her I had dropped to the last 5. We got our bibs pulled. It was as if they stole my soul. There was no question but to continue on. I was told I would not be considered a finisher and I would not receive a skull. However, I COULD continue on. So I did. Funny how she couldn't look me in the eye when she asked for assistance in putting her water bottles away and realized it was me that was beside her. Of course I smiled and still helped her. I guess what angered me was the fact that she never said thank you. Not even once. Another 5 were going to be pulled after racing back to Riverside. 4 of the 5 of us decided to continue on. I thought, let's be the last 5 - they already pulled our bibs, they can't do it again. Another racer said, lets be super fast and maybe get our bibs back? It all made perfect sense to us at the time... none of that mattered though- we were out, no matter what.
Everyone took off and as they pushed their way through the trail all kinds of gear and trash started falling out of the pack. So of course, I picked it up. As I made my way back to Riverside I saw the racer I had helped as one of the last 5. Imagine my surprise when I saw her with her bib on for the next task. Later I found out she refused to give it up. I wonder if that would have worked for me? Probably not. I wanted to question it, but why bother. It wouldn't change anything. Maybe this is the entitlement that Joe Desena was talking about? Hmmm....very interesting to me. After I took my pack off I saw everyone doing PT with 80# cement bags. The bags all started splitting. So of course I immediately fell into helper mode and started to duct tape bags and look for garbage bags for everyone. I even ran back to my base camp and grabbed what we had there. They all take off and then I asked if I could do this task too. I was given the ok and I went and found a sandbag and headed out. Thank you Jason for sticking with me. A lot happened out there on those trails.
People were helped, people cried, people wanted to quit. That's their story to tell, not mine, you may read about it, you may not. I made it to Miguel's cabin and as I headed back to Riverside, I had that long awaited breakdown. There is was...I ran. I cried. I cried and I ran. I tried to run from my failure. I let everyone down. There would be no skull to present to my team, my supporters. I fought with myself that I was NO Death Racer. That I didn't belong out there. That I should have stayed on the other side of the fence. As crew, support, or a volunteer. Did I really think I belonged there? Did I really think I had what it took? I still fight with that. Not as bad thanks to my friends that have tried to make me see what I did was right, but that feeling of failure is still present at times. As my dear friend Daren had said, I ran my race with honor and integrity, and he was proud of me. This is where I think if I chose the white bus I would have been considered a finisher. I also would have probably cried the entire time, being the sap that I am. I am slightly jealous of the time they had, although the hospice home would have unearthed memories of my father....
My Death Race destiny had been chosen and followed and I know I did do my best. I stayed true and did what I thought was right. I didn't cut any corners and helped so many along the way. Now we wait for the white bus to return. We got to hang out in the corral. We could eat, sleep, whatever. Then I got kicked out. Heather, I know you didn't want to, and it hurt being kicked out of the corral. I felt like an outsider. Not really belonging anywhere. So, I started cleaning the base camp area. I started with all of my gear. Still ready to head out again if we had to, but basically putting everything in it's place. Then I cleaned up the picnic table area and looked for trash. I think I finally laid down around midnight. Wrapped in my buckskin on a thin camp pad at a Weber grill fire. I never felt so alone. Finally the white bus came back and skulls were awarded. I cried tears of joy hearing every one's name being called. That was it, it was over. My SISU team was there with hugs and words of encouragement and we headed home. My crew, my amazing crew were all snuggled up in bed and I just wanted to hug each and every one of them. Ben and I sat up for awhile drinking and talking, I needed it, it was much needed therapy after the therapy that is The Summer Death Race. Then it was 5am...It was over. 110+ miles, 66+ hours... over.
So many emotions, so much darkness and light faced. I found what I am made of and know I revel in the fact that I accomplished more good in 66 hours than some people do in a lifetime. Yet through all of that, I can't help but feel I let people down, but I know I did my best and I never fucking quit. Not ever. In this lifetime and the next, Live Each Day! Team Death Race? Maybe... Summer Death Race 2015? Definitely! More smiles, more laughter... I think I'll just stay on the other side of the lake this time <3
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