As a matter of fact, this weekend, I found myself at my fifth Spartan Race, exactly one year after my very first race at the very same venue, Fenway Park in Boston. One year ago, I was terrified. Finally, I was winning the war of my lifetime struggle with obesity. I was 85 pounds down, and I had started to have some level of fitness I had never thought possible and I felt the almighty Spartan, would serve as my quintessential slaying of a lifetime of demons. Later, I would learn it was only the beginning, and I had a lot more slaying to do as I took on the trifecta this year. Nonetheless as I entered Fenway, this year, I found I was overcome by all of the emotions that flooded me a year ago. The familiar obstacles I was so terrified of at first, followed by the shock of actually completing them. There was the view of the first baseline where I crossed the finish line one year ago and burst into tears into the arms of my ever supportive son, suddenly realizing I could do so much more than I thought.
Race Day looked totally different this year though. My son Jack and I were back, however this year I brought a team of ten, six of whom were new racers with me, and I was the team captain. I even had the honor of having our Spartan trainer Juan run with us. As I reminisced in my mind about my experience one year ago, I was able to size up the emotions of my newbies. There was J, she is six feet tall, yet she spent the days leading up to the race voicing her fear getting over the eight foot wall. There was K, with the history of gym class fails, voicing sincere doubt about completing the rope climb despite successfully doing it in our training. There was M, a distance runner who had no confidence she could do any of the walls as she felt she lacked upper body strength. There was L, our oldest racer who doubted she would finish and feared she would hold us back. There was D, a power lifter who doubted her agility to navigate the course. There was K number two, who at a very young age had a stroke and has spent recent years fighting her way back to good health, but still had fears and doubts about the race, and then there was C. He was our youngest runner, at 16 who was not so sure about any of it, and with a foot injury was not altogether sure he could finish but wanted to try.
As we set out in our matching shirts that stated the motto of our Team 1DOS, "If it excites you and scares the crap out of you at the same time it probably means you should do it." In my year of racing, I must say fear is involved every single time, and I believe today was no exception for any of us. However, little by little, obstacle by obstacle we worked together. A mighty team of sharks that was so much stronger as a whole shiver than any single one of us would be on our own. We would witness J conquering the eight foot wall and begin screaming and jumping up and down as she said,"I DID IT! I DID IT!". K would conquer the rope like she climbs every single day, M would toss over the four foot walls all by herself with a look of surprise as she handled them easily. L would go to the ball slams and pick up a men's 25 pound ball and complete the challenge without even realizing she could use 15's. K2 would get on the z wall and zip across like a champ. Finally C would cross the finish line with his mom watching suddenly convinced if he can do this at 16 there were probably much harder things in life he could do. My son Jack would nail the multirig despite there being a cleverly placed baseball instead of a ring toward the end. Juan, our fearless trainer would patiently wait for us and guide us along with advice, motivation, making obstacle racing look easy and provided a ton of laughs. Personally speaking, for the first time in 5 races I would land the spear throw.
There were so many great things that happened that day, on that field. Every fear that my newbies had were my fears one year ago, and I got to be there as they pushed past them all. Just when I thought a race could not get as emotional as the Beast in WV, watching them all win gave me an emotion of pride and joy I don't think I have ever experienced before. However, to be fair, I did know before the race none of these six ladies really had anything to be worried about. J is tall enough the walls are no big deal, K can climb a rope, I have seen her do it, M has upper body strength as I have trained with her and seen it, L has the stamina and ability to complete a two a day workout at Orangetheory so clearly a one hour Spartan is well within her wheelhouse, D is a fantastic runner as I have trained next to her and watched her go faster and faster, K2 has accomplished so much in her recovery since her stroke becoming a fierce advocate for breaking through the limits of what stroke patients were thought to have while encouraging others, and C? He began his Spartan training on day one months ago with a 6 mile run and pole climbs. So many self imposed fears and limits that are simply not reality and not visible by anyone else.
Which brings me back to the hot pink tie dye underwear that seems to appear on my yoga towel. I began to wonder how many times we convince ourselves that everyone sees every single insecurity we have and then take those insecurities as fact? How many times do we fail to take someone telling us we are capable of things at face value and believe it? Just like I put the lost underwear away in the cubby with no one the wiser, these ladies put their insecurities, real or imagined away to run this race with a grace and style that truly humbled me as their captain
I realize, I need to be careful about checking my towel before I leave the house, but even if I miss the freeloading underwear, it does not change my willingness to once again attempt a successful eagle pose based on who sees or doesn't see. At the end of the day, it is just underwear, much like our insecurities are just insecurities not paralyzing monsters that take us out of the game. Seeing six people learn that very thing reminds me once again, the best is yet to come.
