Adventure Racing

I have many goals for myself this year; one of them is to compete in an Adventure Race. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years, but part of the problem (or at least one of my excuses) has been the fact that adventure races are team events. And while I have friends who are interested, finding ones who will actually train and follow through is another matter altogether. So, a few weeks ago, I began searching the Internet for races and race organizations in my area.

Swamp Stomp

That’s where I found the West Central Florida Adventure Racing Club (WeCeFAR) – the same group that’s sponsoring the Adventure Camp I mentioned in the last issue. I logged onto their message board and was reading about their activities when I came across a guy who was looking for a teammate for an upcoming race, the Swamp Stomp. His message said that he was just interested in participating, not winning. I thought that sounded perfect, so without knowing a thing more about it, I replied that I was interested. I got a message from one of the race organizers saying that particular person already found a teammate, but there was a three-woman team that needed another woman and asked if I would I be interested. I wrote back, “Absolutely!”

The leader of the team, No Mans Land, wrote me and asked about my adventure race experience. Rather than telling her, "Um.. well.. actually.. none." I emphasized my positive qualities, "I’m a good team player, I’m calm under pressure, I’m comfortable in the outdoors, I’m active and in decent shape." She wrote that while those qualities are important, you need more than that to get through a 30-hour adventure race.

30 HOURS!!??

Let me clarify, 30 hours is the cut-off time. That’s the time in which competitive teams should be able to complete the race. Others, if they finish at all, may take longer, much longer. Gulp. I’m pretty sure I can do any one of those things for 10 hours, but all three, back to back, through the night, without any sleep, through a swamp, with three people I've never laid eyes on, and with only the items I’m able to carry on my back??

Now, any sane person would’ve stopped right there. Can you guess what I did? Uh huh. I went on to convince her that even though I’d never even done a 2-hour sprint race, I could handle 10 hours of trekking, followed by 10 hours of canoeing, followed immediately by 10 hours of off-road biking or some combination thereof. I’ve since read that you start training up to four months in advance for a race of this length. This one is less than three weeks away.

I’ve been trying to rationalize my decision. I’ve tried convincing myself that if I get through this race, shorter races will be a piece of cake. Or that doing this one takes all the pressure off “winning” and puts it firmly into the “let’s pray I can get through this” category. I’ve even tried measuring it against the absolute worse things I’ve been through. It doesn't matter now, I’m committed (or certainly should be).

Unsuspecting Training Partner

A friend and I went hiking this past weekend. Until just a few minutes ago when she read the preceding article, she didn’t know about the Swamp Stomp or that I was using our hike as “training”. As far as she knew, we were just out for a leisurely 6-mile hike to Shepherd Spring in the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge -- and it started out that way. But, as often happens with this particular friend, we went astray. Either we’re both directionally challenged or we talk so much that we fail to notice where we’re going. This time, we were hiking at a brisk pace when I noticed a bench with an arrow pointing to the right indicating “Trail”. What I failed to notice was the arrow pointing in the opposite direction that said “Spring”. At the time I found it odd that the bench read "Trail Spring" rather than "Spring Trail", but I ignored my instinct and apparently so did my friend because she told me later she thought all along it was the other direction.

It worked out fine for me because it meant more time on my feet. I'd read that the number one reason people have to drop out of adventure races is not from a serious injury or exhaustion, but from their feet staying wet for long periods and eventually becoming blistered and infected. It just so happened, the trail had lots of shallow pools with very chilly water in which to get and keep our feet wet. I had on my Salomon amphibious shoes that worked so well for me while trekking in Thailand a few years ago and thinking that my shoes would drain faster without socks, I removed them. Big mistake. I ended up with more than a half dozen blisters. Always looking for the silver lining, I told myself it was better to find out now than during the race.

After hiking for a few hours, my friend insisted we turn around. We made it back to the bench, saw the arrow pointing toward the spring, and went in that direction. We relaxed for a few minutes at the spring and made it back to our vehicle just as it was getting dark. It turns out we hiked/trained about 10 miles that day .. wet shoes, blisters, and all.

"If you're never scared or embarrassed or hurt, it means you never take any chances." - Julia Sorel