Ladies – we get a LOT of messages from the media about how we should look, what we should or should not be eating or doing to exercise, how much or how little we should weigh, and all sorts of other ridiculousness about how we should be living our lives.
In short, we deal with all sorts of shoulds. And between you and me, it’s all a bunch of BS.
There’s a certain kind of kinship that people who have run a Spartan Race feel toward each other. All of us who complete one of these races and earn that coveted medal are connected in a way, friends and strangers alike. We have all faced the same challenges, overcome the same obstacles and ascended and descended the same treacherous hills.
And then there is the Spartan World Championships…a “Beast” unto itself.
Those of us who survive what I will henceforth call The Mountain have an unspoken bond. We know the pain and suffering that can come from hours upon hours climbing steep, rocky inclines and winding through single track trails. We understand deep in our souls that things can change from comfortable to deeply not-at-all comfortable in an instant during that race. And above all, we know that The Mountain is bigger than us, is smarter than us, and, let’s face it, much prettier than us. But it can also be devastating if it chooses.
Why do people do something as ridiculous as a Spartan Race or other similar obstacle races?
For many, it’s about doing something personally challenging and pushing beyond their individual comfort zones.
It can also be about overcoming literal and figurative obstacles.
For some, it can be about defying expectation and proving what the human body is truly capable of doing and achieving.
For me, it is all of these things. But it’s also about one other very specific thing.
I do these races to experience failure.