A Good Foundation

I was watching some boxing the other night.  It's not something that I normally do, as I'm not a huge fan of boxing in general, and I didn't know either of the boxers that were fighting.  Something struck me though, so I wanted to watch a bit.  Specifically, I was taken by the knowledge of the announcers and how it didn't seem to match up with my own experience of the fight.  I was listening to them talk about how one of the fighters was clearly beating the other fighter and that it wasn't even close.  I didn't see the same thing they did, which isn't all that surprising since I wouldn't recognize the distinctions in performance in pretty much any sport that I don't follow closely.  I wouldn't see the fine differences in ice skating, fencing, or diving, for instance.  They showed slowed-down parts of the fight, and it became clear that they were right.  The fighter was clearly making contact with his punches that I didn't see with my untrained eye.

This got me thinking about the things that we take for granted.  We become specialists in so many things that just seem natural to us.  In fact, it's a hidden process most of the time.  We don't even recognize the extent of our own knowledge until we're confronted by someone outside that realm asking about it.  It's the water that we swim in, but others are looking into the fishbowl from the outside.  I think this may be why I'm always surprised by how other people react to the crazy things I do.  What would make a seemingly normal 40-something guy drive silly distances to run around in the cold and the mud?  What kind of madness would make someone want to run ultramarathons?  As I've told more people than I can remember, inside my head I'm a 16-year old kid - and what 16 year-old boy doesn't want to run around in the mud if they're given the chance?  This is my foundation, so it's difficult for me to imagine someone who wouldn't want to do this stuff.  The problem is if we start to feel precious about our foundations.  That's when we feel as if we're the only ones who truly understand our little corner of the world.  If we are too tightly identified with that knowledge, then we doubt anyone else who might have a slightly different perspective.  At that point, our foundation becomes the lens through which we judge all other participants, and we start to doubt their ability to measure up to our standards. All of which is counterproductive to understanding each other, and should be avoided if possible.

Read More

Mania and Perseverance

I've been thinking a lot about Batman lately.  I realize that's a weird way to start a post on a blog about the educational lessons we've learned from running mud runs, but bear with me for a few minutes.  Hopefully, it will all make sense.

So, back to Batman.  I'm pretty sure that anyone reading this has at least a passing knowledge of who and what Batman is.  If not, here's his deal.  He's a rich guy who witnessed his parents get killed when he was a kid.  He went a bit crazy and dedicated his life to fighting crime.  He dresses up as a bat to scare the criminals.  That's usually about the extent of what people know about Batman, but there's an interesting concept that Batman, through his very existence, caused his villains to come into existence.  That's not in a "if you dream hard enough, things will happen for you" sort of way.  Rather, it is in the "crazy attracts crazy" sort of way.  If that's the case, then an argument could be made that the world (at least the comic book world) would be better off if there had never been a Batman. 

Anyway, I'm certain that I could go down this rabbit hole all day long, but it's not really why I was thinking about Batman, but it did get me started.  I started to wonder what it takes to be motivated to peak performance EVERY day.  That's what it takes to be Batman, after all.  You definitely can't skip leg day - not even once - if you want to fight alongside Superman with nothing much more than a pair of tights and some gadgets. 

I had always thought of Bruce Wayne (as if I have to tell anyone that he is Batman's alter ego) was an intense and driven guy, but pretty much just that.  Anytime anyone would tell me that he was legitimately as crazy as any of this nemeses, I would kind of laugh it off.  After all, we don't want to think of Batman being as driven by mania as the Joker is.  But, the more I think about it, the only way that you could really maintain the kind of physical and mental regiment it takes to be an otherwise human comic book hero is to be broken in some fundamental way.  It's not all that hard to keep motivated when you're in your 20s and 30s and the physical exertion is relatively easy, but where is the motivation coming from to maintain that pace into your 40s and 50s when the aches, pains and minor/major injuries start to take their toll?  Slowing down is a natural experience.  Even witnessing the murder of your parents would eventually fade a bit (not that you'd forget it, but the visceral nature of the event would blur over time) when confronted with your 4th knee surgery and recovery.  It's tough to get motivated every day if the only thing driving you is a memory that has lost some of its hard edges.  The alternative explanation is that he isn't being driven by that memory as much as the memory is the starting point of his sickness, and the sickness is what's pushing him forward.

What does this all have to do with tough mudders, though?  Well, as I approach the second half of my 4th decade on this planet, I am confronted with the inevitability of my slowing down.  I'm not planning on retiring anytime soon, and I can easily see myself out there on the course a decade from now.  The difference being, at that point I'll have to be happy with a different pace and ability to complete the events.  I don't have the same kind of sickness that pushes Bruce Wayne every day, and so I have to become comfortable with the effects of the aging process.  I'll check back in a decade, but my guess is that I'll be running fewer races (assuming mud runs are even a thing in a decade) and I'll be moving slower at the races I do run.  I'll just have to find a way to be okay with that.

Read More

Unfinished Business

I was recently working on a jigsaw puzzle, and came to realize a few things about myself.  Just as a little background, I've always considered myself to have a bit of an addictive personality. I remember staying up for several days on end playing games like Diablo and Warcraft (among many others, but Blizzard as a game-design company seemed to really build games that I could get into).  I would stay up all night, miss meals and skip classes if I was into a game.  I was, in many ways, exhibiting behaviors that are the textbook definition of addiction - with one exception: once I had beaten the game, I would lose immediate interest and would almost never even think about it again. I would be totally immersed while I was competing, but once the competition was done, it was done.  I didn't feel even the slightest need to revisit it.  In fact, I'm glad that I realized this about myself before the invention of MMOs like World of Warcraft (if that sounds like Greek to you, don't worry...it's likely that an explanation of those terms would just bore you).

One of the reasons that I try not to play video games anymore is because they don't actually end.  Online games don't have a final battle that you win and then the game ends.  Nope...now games just keep adding levels or quests or items, and can go on forever.  This is, of course, by design.  After all, you might have paid $50 for Diablo II back in the late 90s/early 2000s, but now you pay a $15 monthly subscription fee for World of Warcraft.  The business model necessitates that the game be addictive and open ended. I don't have the money or freedom to pay for the privilege to miss sleep and meals while killing orcs (not to mention, I'm an adult with a job and a family...tough to ignore those things for a game). Sometimes I slip, and get sucked into a game, and I end up losing way too much of my productive time.  I was really addicted to a Facebook game called Marvel's Avengers Alliance, which (thankfully) Disney discontinued or I might still be playing it instead of doing more productive things (like writing blog posts).

What does this have to do with jigsaw puzzles, though.  Well, my addictive personality hasn't gone away, and sometimes it needs an outlet.  The most recent outlet was a jigsaw puzzle, but not just any old puzzle.  I love puzzles, but this one, I think, was custom made to drive me batty.  The puzzle itself was 1000 pieces, and the main picture was Darth Vader's head.  The wrinkle that made the puzzle maddening was that it was the kind of picture that is actually made up of a bunch of smaller pictures.  If you focus on Darth Vader, you lose all of the other images, but if you focus down on the smaller images you lose Darth Vader.

The other thing to know is that this wasn't initially my idea.  My daughter, bless her 10-year old heart, decided to pull this puzzle out.  It was a brand new puzzle, and I saw her open the bag, so I knew that all the pieces were there.  She dutifully started on the border, and promptly lost interest after about 10 pieces.  I was, however,  hooked by that point. The border ended up not being too difficult, but once I started working on the internal parts, there ended up being no clear lines or color changes to help guide where individual pieces would be put.  There were some clearly lighter blue sections to the puzzle, which were relatively easy to complete since those pieces overall had that color, but outside of that there wasn't much to go on.  Luckily, the puzzle came with a foldable, oversized picture that I could use to guide where individual pieces would be.  Picture me, holding an individual piece up and trying to match it to its location on a paper version of the puzzle.  Each piece might take one or two minutes to find on the image (if I could find it at all).  Now, picture me, in all my addictive glory, doing that over, and over, and OVER again for 800-900 pieces. 

Although it was a new puzzle, and I knew all the pieces were there, I was building it in my living room, so there was the potential that pieces would be knocked onto the floor and lost that way, but I was pretty sure that they were all there.  As I got closer to the finish, I found one piece that I couldn't find a place for.  No big deal, I thought...after all, I had a bunch of these kinds of pieces that I couldn't find, so I would put it aside and move on.  As I neared completion, I was a little worried about that piece, but I counted all of the open spaces and all of my remaining pieces and it matched up, so, again I soldiered on figuring that it would find it's place in time.  Eventually, I had only that one piece left and one available spot, all I had to do was put that piece in, and I would be done with this monstrosity of time-suckage.  Imagine my horror when the piece didn't fit.  There was no mistake, all other pieces fit snuggly.  The piece that I had in my hand was definitely from the puzzle, since I could see the smaller images on it.  It simply did not fit in the space that I had available.

I sat and stewed with this for a while.  I went through the puzzle piece by piece to make sure they fit properly.  I looked around the coffee table to see if there was another piece (perhaps the designers had decided to do the IKEA thing and include a few extra pieces, just for fun).  No luck.  This made no sense.  There was a piece that belonged.  There was a space for a piece.  They didn't match.  I went to bed very confused.

The next morning I showed this to my wife.  She laughed and said I had done something wrong but couldn't find evidence to back that up (which was infuriating in its own way).  I showed it to my 15-year old son.  He shrugged in all his ennui-induced glory and shuffled away.  I showed it to my daughter.  She looked as flabbergasted as I felt.  Each of them took their opportunity to try and fit the piece in, all of them eventually realizing it didn't fit.  Eventually, my wife "hammered" it into place and said she'd figured it out.  The fact that the colors didn't even match up correctly or that it distorted the rest of the pieces around it didn't seem to bother her too much.

Earlier, I mentioned that doing this puzzle lead me to realize a couple things about myself.  So, what are those things?  First, I felt as if I was cheating somehow by finding each piece's location on the larger picture.  I'm not sure why that felt like cheating, but I'll definitely have to get over it if I'm going to tackle the Luke Skywalker puzzle next.  Second, I reflect back on the unfitting piece, and I would expect to be more frustrated than I am.  This seems like the kind of thing that would throw me over the edge, but I'm not feeling that at all.  Rather, I'm actually feeling pretty sedate about the whole thing.  I've come to realize that there's a difference between unfinished business and unfinishable business.  One of those things is beyond your control, and that's why I am rather accepting of that piece of the puzzle.

Mud-runs, working out and general healthy living all seem like unfinished business to me.  I have set the goal to reach my 50th event this year (ideally that would be at WTM), and I think I would be disappointed in myself if I didn't do everything I can to reach that objective - barring injury, of course.  Frustration comes from not finishing something we think we should.  Acceptance comes with realizing when something isn't finishable.  In educational settings, we have lots of unfinishable business that we get frustrated about as if it was simply unfinished.  I'm pretty sure we would not only be a lot more successful if we did more to realize that distinction, but we might even end up with better outcomes.

Read More

Pride - A Few More Thoughts

I've been reflecting on the thoughts I posted earlier about pride, and I'm pretty sure that there is more to say on the subject.  Perhaps it's because I'm having difficulty sleeping in the middle of a snowstorm that's got me so contemplative, but that earlier post has been rattling around in my head like a song that I just can't shake.  So, I thought I would take a shot at putting some of those "rattlesome" thoughts down.

But, first a digression.  I have worked directly in the field of instructional technology for more than a decade, and I've been involved with educational initiatives in general for nearly 25 years (just typing that makes me feel old, and my go-to line whenever that happens is to say that "I'm much to young to be this old").  I only say this here in order to give you some sense of scale when I talk about how often I've been involved with discussions of "BADGES!".  It seems like every few months I'm involved with some meeting where someone will raise the idea of badges as a way to provide feedback to students/identify mastery of content/provide a record for posterity/identify workplace skills for employers/etc... I could go on listing these justifications, but I won't, though it certainly seems like the reasons why people think badges in education are a good idea are as numerous as conversations will allow. 

My response usually ranges from mild interest to utter bafflement during these sessions.  Not because I think that badges are uninteresting or don't hold potential, but because I usually find that the people who are proposing these systems have a faulty sense of what motivates people.  For the most part, they have the "if you build it, they will come" mentality, and that entirely misses the point.  They believe either that the badges themselves will motivate individuals to participate or that the usability of the badges will be what motivates them (in other words, "my future employer will value my badges, so I'll take them seriously").  Both of these reasons are entirely off base, in my opinion.

The reality of the situation is that the only thing that would ever make badges worthwhile in educational settings is if students have pride in what they represent (I'm sure you were wondering when the digression would make it's way back around to pride).  That doesn't come from the badge itself or from a belief that future employers will value them.  It comes from an intrinsic value placed on achieving whatever the badge signifies.

As an example, I have received badges for some pretty kooky things.  I once received a "Conference Attendance" Badge because I picked up my registration at a conference.  How meaningful was that badge, do you think?  How much pride did I take in that accomplishment?  If your answer to that is anything more that "Zero", you're likely to love badging systems.  In fact, it had a negative impact on my affect, because I started really wondering about the quality of sessions I could expect to see at a conference that did something so transparently childish to its attendees.  After all, I may have been happy getting a gold star in Kindergarten, but I like to think that it takes more than a sticker to gain my affections now.

In fact, the only electronic badges that I've ever really valued were those from my early days participating in Tough Mudders.  I think they still give them out for participating in events, and while I don't do much with them anymore, I remember feeling tremendous pride in sharing those earliest ones on Facebook.  They represented something greater than a few pixels on a screen.  They represented all of the hard work that I had put into getting back into shape.  They represented my willingness and ability to engage with something difficult.  Most importantly, they represented my new passion.

But as I said, I don't do anything with those badges now.  They have lost that same meaning.  They no longer represent the pride I have in my abilities.  And, quite honestly, if badges for something that I'm obviously passionate about don't maintain their interest for me, then it's VERY unlikely that meaningless badges would.  This doesn't mean that I don't have pride in my accomplishments, it simply means that I get more enjoyment out of the tangible results of my participation.  This goes beyond my headband collection (which is quite glorious, if I do say so myself - and just to be clear, I don't want to hear any cracks about how many 10X headbands I have), and includes old Team Bad News shirts and photos from my events. 

I guess the lesson that I would take from this is to think hard about what badges, tokens, and mementos represent to the people we work with in educational settings.  As leaders and teachers, we can get away with some gimmicks for a little while, but unless the people actually value what underlays those gimmicks, they will grow stale very quickly.  Worse yet, they may backfire on you.  Learn from the "Conference Attendance" badge...don't assume that these things will be seen in a positive light.

Read More

Pride in our Accomplishments

As 2018 gets under way, I've begun to reflect on my 2017 race and event schedule.  The first event of the year was the Virginia Beach Ultra 100k run, which was a glorious failure.  I didn't reach the 100K, but I did stay on the course the entire time and ran farther than I ever had before (92K in 12 and a half hours).  I also had my best 50 mile time during that race (9 hours and 40 minutes).  So, while I didn't hit my goal of 100K, I still feel good about my experience.  In fact, if I had hit the cutoff time with only one lap left to hit the 100K, I would have kept going outside of the race window just to finish.  But, with 2 full laps left, no headlamp, and pitch dark outside, I figured I would take the 57+ miles and call it a win.

This has got me thinking about what I'm most proud of from what I accomplished in 2017.  As I've already stated, I ran 92K in my first event, but additionally, I completed 15 laps at 14 regular Tough Mudder events, and I ran in the overnight America's Toughest Mudder (completing 20 miles in 8 hours) at the Atlanta course.  All of those are fun and I feel tremendous pride in them, but they aren't what I'm proudest of from this past year.  That would be my run of Hadrian's Wall in June.

A little bit of background first.  For those of you who may not be familiar, Hadrian's Wall was built between 122 AD and 128 AD under the orders of the Roman Emperor Hadrian to act as the Northern boundary of the Roman Empire in Britain (In other words, it was built to keep the "barbarians" living in modern day Scotland from invading).  It ran from Bowness-on-Solway in the West to Wallsend in the East, and effectively put a wall across the entirety of the country.  It is a very popular hiking destination for people who live in or visit England, and it has a very well marked path for hiking anywhere along its 84 mile length. For most of its length, the path follows the historic positioning of the wall, crosses through cities and countryside, goes through public and private property, involves crossing a large number of sheep and cow pastures, and at its most majestic will follow along craggy hills overlooking England and Scotland.  Much of the wall itself is gone now, with only about 30 miles remaining in the middle section of the country.  What remains is rarely more than two or three feet high, but it can be an impressive sight to see.

As for me, I lived in England from 2003 to 2005, and spent a good amount of time traveling around with my wife and son.  We visited Hadrian's Wall a couple times, and I even hiked about 10 miles of the wall in the summer of 2005 before I came back to the US.  It had always been a desire to hike the entire length, but once I moved back to the US I figured that wasn't likely to happen.  I wasn't going to make a trip to the UK just to do it, and no opportunities had presented themselves to get back there for any length of time.  So, I had pretty much resigned myself to having it on my bucket list, and perhaps doing something about it when I retire.  However, an opportunity arose in June that would allow me to be in England for 3 days on my way to Portugal for a conference, so I decided to take the jump.

There are several companies that will organize a tour of the wall for you (including the logistics of making hotel arrangements and moving luggage to and from various locations), so I found one that offered two day running options.  For a fee, they made hotel reservations for all three nights I would need, they sent me maps and information about the path, and they prepared me for the two days of running that it would take to go from East to West.  I started early in the morning on June 22nd from Wallsend, and spent much of the morning running through the city of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  I didn't actually reach any actual wall ruins until early in the afternoon, and stopped to take a picture when I first saw the wall itself.  It wasn't until later, when I was looking at maps of the journey, that I realized that the picture I took was approximately 26.2 miles from the beginning of the trail.  That's right, I ran a marathon along Hadrian's Wall path before I saw any of the actual wall. Not only that, I had another 16 miles to run before I was done for the day.

I reached my hotel in the tiny village of Twice Brewed sometime around 7 pm after nearly 11 hours of running, and promptly ate a huge quantity of food (actually, I shouldn't say "promptly" here because I did take a nice long, hot epsom-salt bath first).  The food and drink were particularly welcome after having run nearly 44 miles through some relatively rugged terrain.  The Twice Brewed Inn is legitimately in the middle of nowhere, but it was a nice stopping point for my first day.

The second day, I started my run in a drizzly rain at about 6 am, and had to make my way through the city of Carlisle.  I had visited this city before, while I had been living in England, but it was an entirely different experience passing through.  There was a bit of construction along the path, which shunted me off into main streets, and I had a pretty difficult time finding my way back to the path until I was about 6 miles to the West outside of town.  From there, it was a pretty straight run through some fantastic bogs to the end point in Bowness-on-Solway.  Having run several ultra marathons previously, I was pretty well prepared nutritionally and fitness-wise for the endeavor, but the last four miles were tough.  Even though the terrain was flat, and the path was clear, it was difficult nonetheless.  I had heard of people who run marathons talking about how they had to negotiate with themselves as they get along the race, and make deals with themselves to ensure they kept going, but I hadn't really felt that need in any of my previous events.  That changed for the last four miles, though.  I can unabashedly say that I negotiated nearly every step of those four miles.  And, while difficult, I found my way to the end point of the trail.

Exhausted and elated, I immediately picked up my bags at the hostel I had already paid for, got a cab, and drove to the train station in Carlisle that I had actually run past a few hours earlier.  I did this to catch a train to Lancaster, where I would be staying with friends from when I lived there 15 years ago.   An hour and a half later, after a shower, I was sitting at dinner with friends I hadn't seen in nearly a decade, and all of the difficulty of the run was gone.  I had successfully run 84 miles over pretty grueling terrain over the course of two days, and come out the other side stronger than before.  Back-to-back ultra marathons were never in my plans, but I wouldn't change the experience for the world.  Which brings me to the lesson that I took from this event and my reflections on what I accomplished last year.

Specifically, the lesson of PRIDE.  I was raised as a Catholic, and had always been told that pride was a sin (in fact, it's one of the 7 deadly sins).  As such, it was always frowned upon to be proud or to demonstrate too much pride.  I never really understood that when I was a kid.  Gluttony, Sloth, Envy...the other deadly sins, I could "get".  I understood why those would be bad, but why would pride be discouraged? Now that I'm older, and have things to be proud about, I'm able to put the world into less black and white terms.  Yes, pride can be a negative, but it isn't necessarily.  Pride in our accomplishments is usually what keeps bringing us back for more.  In educational settings, we say that we want to celebrate our accomplishments and demonstrate our joy in our achievements.  As such, it implies that we should be proud of those accomplishments and achievements.  There's nothing wrong with that, as long as we keep moving forward.

Read More

New and Returning Obstacles for 2018

So, Tough Mudder just announced a couple new obstacles.  The first is called "Happy Endings", and appears to be evidence of the old adage that "bigger is better":

Not actual size

I'm on the fence as to whether this is anything more than a knock-off from various other racing organizations.  Savage Race has the Colossus, which is an oversized ramp on one side and then a slide into water on the other side.  Happy Endings tries to up the scare factor by incorporating electricity for one part of the slide.  I've seen a few people on Facebook saying "what's the worst that could happen" while posting the following GIF:

Because this dude looks disturbingly like me, I find it necessary to state that
no Gazelles were harmed in the making of this GIF.

However, having said all of that, I'm not all that disappointed that this is just a bigger version of Pyramid Scheme and Everest.  Or that it's just a knockoff of the Colossus.  After all, there's only so much you can do with obstacles.

The thing that disappoints me is that (based on what I've heard so far) this is pretty much forced to be a group activity.  I'm not averse to helping people up on an obstacle, or asking for help myself, but any obstacle that cannot legitimately be done individually is pretty crappy in my book.  I continue to try and make it up Everest 2.0 by myself.  I fail at that every time, but I give it a shot.  If the ropes are down on Pyramid Scheme, it's actually a pretty easy obstacle to get up by yourself.  There may be something I'm not seeing that would make this doable by yourself, but everyone who has attempted this obstacle has said that it takes a village to conquer.  If you go out in one of the early waves, it's likely you'll reach this monstrosity all by your lonesome, which means you're all alone in your shame as you walk around it (not that I would ever do that, though).  Of course, this is all conjecture, since I haven't actually seen this thing on a course yet, so it may be that there is some way to do it alone.  I would assume that the folks in charge of Tough Mudder have thought this through, and will do something to address it.  If that's the case, then I look forward to the challenge of beating this monstrosity.

The lesson that we might be able to learn from this for education is that it's important to take into account the context in which activities take place.  As Americans we have this mindset of being able to "go it alone" and to "pull ourselves up by our bootstraps" and become "self-made men".  All of this is BS, of course, since the reality is that we are the result of all our interactions.  Our successes and our failures are the result of all of the help that we've received along the way.  This would seem to counter my whole point complaining that this obstacle can't be done alone, but that's not quite how I see it.  The help that we are provided doesn't have to come in the form of a helping hand at the top of an obstacle.  It doesn't have to come in the form of a tower of people we crawl up as we ascend.  Rather, the help can come in the form of the obstacle designers understanding the psychology of wanting to test ourselves, and provide an opportunity to at least try.  We may end up needing help, but having that as a prerequisite for success can be counterproductive unless we are actually given the resources necessary to succeed.

Read More

The Next Level

 

I don't think there's really anything to say about the inactivity on Year In The Mud for the past - ohhhh - year or more. Life happens and life sometimes gets in the way. Back when we started the blog, we were season pass holders for Tough Mudder. Driving all over the East Coast - yes all three of us have the best wives ever - and trying to complete as many laps as possible during a weekend event. Tough Mudder opportunities aren't what they were just a few years ago - at least not within a five hour drive of our homes. Spartans and Battlefrogs haven't been able to fill the void either. I am sure many readers will vehemently disagree with this - perfectly fine and really no need to fill up the comments section with your disapproval - I get it - you love Spartan -  but for the three of us, and I don't think I'm out of place in speaking for my two Mudda Bruddas, Tough Mudders were our introduction into obstacle racing and they have always just been more fun. Don't get me wrong - they're quite brutal as well. Nothing's easy when you're trying to get the elusive three laps in a Saturday race.

I hope no one takes this the wrong way. Carrying heavy shit up and down mountains or jumping over endless walls have tested us in more ways than we could've ever imagined, but the fun and excitement of seeing 1000s of people preparing for the start of a Tough Mudder is something that is definitely missed.

With the quickening approach of WTM 2016, though, I am finally starting to get a new level of excitement for what awaits us in Las Vegas. It gets more real with ever post I see about the clock ticking down. 4 months!!! That's just crazy. And honestly, I don't think a renewed excitement could have come at a better time. As the oppression of the summer heat has set in on the East Coast and with two moves in the past two years, I think I'm a bit exhausted. But here I am. Thinking of how to restart myself, and I couldn't think of a better way than reigniting our blog along with me.

Not sure if it’s simply me aging and approaching 45 or the general mid-life crisis I’m supposed to be going through now, but more often than not I find myself sitting around thinking, “What in the hell am I doing?” It certainly isn’t for want of having a list of cool things that I could be doing. It most certainly isn’t for a lack of things I actually need to be doing. It certainly isn’t from a lack of recommendations from family and friends for what I could be doing. And it most certainly isn’t because I’ve reached some rung on the ladder of mid-life malaise– I don't feel any more beat down than anyone else out there reading this post and thinking, “Yeah - What in the hell am I doing?”

One thing I do know – or at least have surmised through more human trials than I would care to think about – is this – sleep is pretty damn important. Getting insufficient sleep is the one thing I keep coming back to that seemingly impacts every other thing I plan for my day. Rocket science - I know!! I can’t tell any of our constant readers (again a phrase coined by Mr. Stephen King) how many times I've committed myself to getting up in the morning only to look at the oven clock the night before and think, “Damn! Does that say 11 o’clock already?” There goes the 5 AM wake up!! Then as the days catch up with me, the one thing I begin to think more and more about is how I can stave off taking a nap so I can make sure I get to sleep on-time that night. And I’ll be ready for sleep – around 9:30. I will get a good 7.5 hours in. Might even get up at 5 AM to get the morning run until I find myself again looking at the oven clock and thinking, “Damn! Does that say 11 o’clock already?”

I know, you're probably thinking, has this goof not seen any of the racing posts about people who have overcome true tests in life. I’m talking about stories where people were on the verge of death and obstacle racing (especially the camaraderie and challenge experienced on the course) gave them the motivation they needed to drop 200 pounds. Stories of people like TNT out there busting his ass each race. These people even now make me reflect and think, "Is my only test going to bed on time?"

"Do these stories make my ramblings a little pathetic?" (I mean of course they do but bear with me.) These people are giants. Giants who are able through their stories to motivate 500 others to get off the couch and stop bitching. So I little pathetic, maybe. But if I've learned anything from My Year(s) in the Mud, all I can really work on is myself and help others over the wall as I jog along. 

I would agree in most cases that it is pretty hard to teach an old dog new tricks. Understanding that adult behaviors are difficult to change, may be a reality we all have to face, but I generally balk at sentiments I am defined simply by the number of trips I've made around the sun. I am definitely no longer the 210 pound guy that started this adventure six years ago when my first Tough Mudder ran me right into a Wintergreen mountain and kept bashing my head up against it. That guy is dead. That same guy would never have been able to run 45 miles and 24 hours through the conditions we faced in WTM 2014. So I know it’s possible to change behaviors. Old dogs can learn too. I think we just become a little more picky about the treats we'll accept as rewards.

The question I face now is really the notion of what does it take to raise my game to the next level. And the next level…and so on and so forth. Is there a ceiling that you invariably bang up against - maybe genetics...age? Can we all be Ryan Atkins or Amelia Boone if we put the work in?

I'm pretty sure the answer there is No! I often find myself thinking, “If I would have found obstacle racing at 25…” But that is usually where the thought stops. I have trouble completing the rest of it. Would I have been a World Champion? I doubt it. For one thing, I’m not built for it. These little legs were genetically inherited, so physically I don’t think I have the goods to compete at that level. While there is the argument that anyone can be anything they want to if they just put in the time and the work, sports like swimming seem to highlight the importance of being born with the right physical attributes. The 5’8” swimmer who puts in all the hours at the pool possible is still going to be hard pressed to beat someone 6’4”. Just lacks the God given ability to reach for the wall.

The question then becomes how do you know you've reached your potential, and how can you reach your potential if it is so difficult to make the changes in your routine necessary to compete at a different level - to Bring It (to quote my ol’ friend and Yoga partner Tony Horton) and raise your game. So to me it isn’t that we aren’t able to change our behaviors as we age, I think the struggle really becomes that the process of making change moves much more slowly and you need a whole lot more commitment as you move up the performance ladder. So far, I have been able to meet all my goals by simply half-assing workouts, my diet, and certainly my sleep habits. Well I’m not sure half-assing is the right word, maybe it's simply assing and having 10 things to do each day rather than train. The problem is this pattern just isn't getting it done any longer especially not if I want in anyway to compete in my age group. So I sit here thinking, “What in the hell am I doing?”

This whole discussion strikes a chord when one thinks of leadership and what leadership really is. I find it so much easier to be a leader when it comes leading projects or leading others. Leading oneself is a huge pain in the butt. Changing behaviors when you've picked all the low hanging fruit in your life requires a degree of self-leadership that I haven’t been able to muster so far. Maybe I try and take on too many things on at once – my old addage - "Hey let’s change everything mentally starting Monday." Maybe it’s a matter of reading the Turtle and the Hare every night before bed to realize that life is not a sprint.

Whatever it is though, I continue to work on getting to the next level. My training for WTM 2016 is underway, stalled a bit yes, and I’m sure life is not going to allow me to do “two-a-days” that my mind tells me to get started. My long run is up to 10 miles which is so much better than where I was last year in July. I am not injured. These are certainly things to be excited about because in the end I’m not racing anyone but myself. And in my mind’s eye – 75 miles is still in the range of possibilities if I decide it is and start to train for it.

I'm committing to this though. I'm committing to walking to talk that I tell my girls each time they jump into the pool at a swim meet. "Leave it all in the pool. This is a race. Win or lose - give it your all." So I challenge each of you to think about what it will take for you to raise your game to the next level. Is it more sleep? Is it better nutrition? Because in the end the question always comes down to – “What tough mudder are you training for?” And look - Year in the Mud is back!!!

Read More

I Can’t Hang

Virginia Tough Mudder 2014

First of all – let me take a quick moment to allay any fears I may have created with the title of this post. This is in no way a post about an impending retirement. There has been enough of that talk and I have chastised those needing chastisement.

Nor is it a post about my inability to keep up with the younger generation as I ease into the ripe old age of 41. Frankly, it is way too much fun to continue to celebrate my birthday in the cold November mud with my extended World’s Toughest Mudder family. This year in Vegas will be the second year I get to spend my birthday doing an activity I’ve grown to love. You think TMHQ would have an award for most birthdays celebrated.

This is simply a post about me and the beautiful things I continue to learn as I push on to the next race and beyond. Frankly, races and competing aside, why would I retire? I couldn’t be happier with the physical changes I see in the mirror each morning. In comparison to that guy who took on Tough Mudder Wintergreen back in 2011, I look and feel like a completely different person. 

This year, in my preparation for Vegas, I’ve lost 30 pounds. It took a little longer than one would expect, but I guess I finally got tired of carrying that 30 pound weight around each course. Some people carry extra-large stuffed animals and for others it may be a large section of a dead tree. For me it was not even something I could show off appropriately – just 30 pounds of fat. I now stand before the mirror each morning at a strapping 179 pounds with 175 in sight. Honestly I can’t remember the last time I looked this good or felt this good. The reassuring thing is that I have been assured that it will now be even easier to throw me over Berlin Walls as we head into the early morning hours of WTM. 

Virginia Tough Mudder 2014

Without OCR though, I never would have had any reason, of course other than wanting to be here to walk my daughters down the aisle one day, to take the weight off. And with each new race there is no doubt that eating better and pushing the workouts has improved my performance. This time at Wintergreen Super Spartan I was a wall climbing, barb wire crawling, log carrying monster. You can take that 75 pound bucket of gravel and shove it though. That is going on the shoulder!

The weight loss has led to some great improvements in my overall strength. For those constant readers out there, you may remember that I personally have had several internal debates about different types of workout strategies since we started the blog. There have posts rating different workout routines, all of them that will get you drippin’, and even discussions on how we planned to become stronger runners – that one is still a work in progress. One thing I have come to realize though is the fact that I really don’t like going to a gym. This is probably more so because I just can’t build it regularly into my schedule, but I would much rather work out around the house when I have the time to fit it in. One day it might be in the morning, and another day after my girls are in bed. But I have found it so much easier for me to walk out to the garage than it is for me to actually get out of the house. I know that may sound terribly lazy, but that’s just the way it is.

Of course, this has made it nearly impossible for me to engage in more regular workout programs such as a regular Crossfit routine, but it has allowed me to mix and match different ideas to create programs that work for me. So over the past year I have been focusing almost exclusively on body weight exercises. My program today consists of 200 regular push-ups (sets of 30 with each set followed by a door jamb pull up – this are quite brutal I might add but needed as I’ll discuss in a second), 100 wide arm push-ups, 100 pull-ups over the course of the work day, and tabata finger-tip planks (20 seconds with 90 second rest). Just doing the push-ups and pull-ups has produced great improvements. For the guy who maxed out at 5 pull-ups (with a leg kick on the last couple) to the guy who can get 15 pull-ups. Personally this is just an amazing accomplishment for me. I was always the kid who couldn’t do pull-ups and wouldn’t even attempt the rope climb.

What I have find most interesting though are the lessons I’ve learned about myself along the way. It actually has become quite funny that I continue to find things I can’t do. If I take a few days rest and jump up on a pull-up bar, I can easily crank out 12. I say crank out because I still hate the dang things. But even with this new strength, I’ve learned something about myself – I Can’t Freakin’ Hang!!

https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/hangin-tough

Our constant readers will have read about my Hangin’ Tough albatross. For those of you new to the world of Tough Mudder, you can read all you would like about this lovely obstacle on Tough Mudder's Web site.Probably the only Tough Mudder obstacle I have not completed. I am sure my Mudda Bruddas will correct me on that one if I’ve spoken in error. Yes – Twinkle Toes is behind me. My goal has been to improve my core, build up my arm strength, and I would finally put that obstacle behind me as well. But I had quite an enlightening experience last weekend.  

Virginia Spartan Spring 2014

My weekend is the time when I focus on my longer runs or some swimming. As I was heading out for a run, I happened to look up at the rings installed in my garage, installed for the single purpose of completing Hangin’ Tough, and thought about seeing how much I’d improved at simply swinging back and forth on them. You know that little rhythm you work to swing to the next ring. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I would have improved – for goodness sake, I’m doing sets of 10 pull-ups.

As soon as I hopped up on them, a sense of wonder filled the air. I could do it. I have never been able to gather any momentum on these things, but now the tide had turned. I had arrived and ready to transfer my hands. And that is where the joy ended. While I can swing, I apparently still can’t hang like a monkey from one arm. I don’t have any idea whether it is strength in the arm, back, core, grip, or whatever – I just simply can’t hang.  It is hard to put into words just how frustrating that realization was. After all the work it seems I am no closer to swinging from these rings than I was 4 weeks ago. (Well that is not entirely true, but I don’t see myself completing this obstacle after 4 laps of the WTM this year either.)

What I found most interesting though, as a little time brings some perspective, is not the fact that I couldn’t do something, but the fact that I learned something new about my strength that I never would have known before. Understanding that I can’t hang could only be realized once I got the pull-up monkey off my back, and just when you climb over one peak, there is another one staring right back at you. But, in truth, this is a weakness I simply was unable to diagnose two years ago when simply crossing Funkey Monkey was the challenge. So in a way, with a few days to reflect that is, it has become this rather satisfying failure that has allowed me to gather some new focus on where I am physically and where I actually want to be when I do one day hang up my OCR gear and announce my retirement.

As is common in many of my posts, we all can decide what that special tough mudder is we want to chase in life. I must admit though that I am still working to love the baby steps and all the unforeseen hurdles that rear their ugly little head when you start to believe that you’ve gotten somewhere. Learning to appreciate the journey and lessons learned along the way become as important as actually getting off the couch and planning to conquer that tough mudder in the first place.

How much more relevant is it for those of us in leadership positions. And by “those of us” I mean all of us because leadership is not any particular position in an organization but a role that you as an individual can choose to take on if you are passionate enough. These little setbacks, or learnings as they eventually become, can either make us give up or they can inspire us to realize that we still haven’t crossed the finish line quite yet. We are simply on another leg of that Death March and there is just a bit more climbing to do. (Death March I curse thee!!!)

Can't want to see what's next!

http://homebrewedtheology.com/whats-next.php

 

Read More

The Beauty of Absurdly Surprising Accomplishments

RIP trusty 'mudder' shorts...I've worn them in every event since
Wintergreen 2011, but they had to be retired after Wintergreen 2014

Ok, just to make this clear from the very beginning, this isn't going to be one of those posts about the importance of setting goals.  That topic is as worn out as my trusty 'mudder' shorts, and we most definitely need to move on.  Rather, this post is about the absurd things that we can accomplish without even realizing it.  If we simply put our mind to something, and work hard, sometimes we can
surprise ourselves with our accomplishments.

A short anecdote will illustrate what I mean.  In order to survive the 24 hours of WTM, I've been trying to build up my running regiment.  For the first part of this year, I was running twice a week, about 5 miles each time.  I wasn't putting a lot of mileage in, but I was trying to get into a routine.  While I was in Australia in July and August, I started doing a little longer runs (anywhere from 10 to 15 miles at a time).  I wasn't necessarily running super fast, but I was just trying to keep going and build up my endurance.  For each of these runs, I was using the Runkeeper app on my phone to track my distances, time, and course.  If you're looking for a nice running app, you can definitely count on Runkeeper (which even works when you're not connected to the internet through 3G, LTE or Wifi - which came in really handy in Australia).  Anyway, I kept up the running regiment after I came back from Australia, and have modified it to include a third day of running each week.  The plan is to do a 5-mile run, a 10-mile run, and a 15-mile run each week.

The surprise came to me when I got an email from Runkeeper after my 5-mile run on the 31st of August.  The email said that I had just finished my "most successful month" since I'd started using the app.  I had documented 8 runs and totaled more than 65 miles during the month of August.  I hadn't been thinking in those terms, but I was pretty happy with those numbers.  Even more surprising was when I realized that these numbers didn't include the miles I had run in the Sunshine Coast Tough Mudder or the Wintergreen Spartan.  If I add those numbers in, then I ran more than 96 miles in August.  A number that truly surprised me.  If you had asked me in 2010 if I would run nearly 100 miles in a month, I would have laughed at you.  If you had asked me in July of 2014 if I would ever run nearly 100 miles in a month, I would have been dubious.  Not because I didn't think I could do it, but rather, because it wasn't on my radar at all.  I didn't set that as a goal, it simply happened as an outgrowth of what I was doing to make sure I was as prepared as possible for WTM.

If I'm honest, a more representative picture of Wintergreen '14
would be of me sliding down a hill on my ass

And, quite honestly, that's the best thing about this process for me.  Of course, I'm happy to reach the goals that I set for myself.  Whether it's running in various events, finishing various workout routines or whatever other goals that might be set (e.g. finishing the elusive Triple, which is still out there waiting for one of us to do it).  Each of those accomplishments are motivating and challenging and rewarding, all at the same time.  But realizing that you've accomplished something absurd and unexpected is truly beautiful.  The surprise of the realization is where the beauty lies, I think.  It makes me realize that we are capable of such amazing things, and some of those things we plan and work for, but some of those amazing things are simply the byproduct of hard work towards other goals.  All we have to do is keep an eye out for those things and learn to recognize them when they happen.

Read More

Done and Dusted

I don't care what you think about selfies...
if you get a chance to pet a Koala, you're taking a picture.

Greetings from Brisbane. As one of my last tasks in Australia, I wanted to put up a post about my "Down Under Mudder." Two laps at the Sunshine Coast Tough Mudder are in the books, and I must say, it was glorious and ludicrous at the same time.  I went out with the 8:00 wave, and finished the first lap in just under 2 hours.  I wasn't able to get into the 10:00 am start wave and had to wait to go out with the 10:15 group.  If everything had broken my way, I might have been able to get back around for the 12:15 (and final) start time, but it very quickly became apparent that wasn't in the cards.

Obviously, the course was much more crowded during the second lap, but the biggest impediment was the weather.  For one day, and one day only, the Sunshine Coast was grossly misnamed.  It rained steadily throughout the day, and what would have been a pretty standard course under better conditions because an 18 kilometer-long mud pit.

 I took video, but the sound quality is pretty bad because I didn't want to take my camera out of its waterproof casing.  For the vast majority of the time (I would say maybe 95% of the time) we were running in ankle-deep mud.  It was like running through wet cement the entire time.  Slippery mud, hidden holes, lots of folks, and steady rain made it pretty difficult to make good time on the second lap. 

Having said all that, I must say, I enjoyed most everything about it.  Yes, the weather was crappy, and, yes, I would have liked to have done the elusive Triple, but those things pale in comparison to the joy of sloshing around in the muddiest Mudder I've ever done.  I only had to fly halfway around the world to do it, but there's something about having to run through a lake right before Everest or climb up and over muddy mounds of dirt in Camel Humps to make a 42-year old dude feel like a 16-year old kid again.  I'd do it again in a heartbeat. 

Now, on to Wintergreen next weekend.  

Read More

Upside-Down Mudder

I'm in Australia for some work, and was able to arrange my schedule so that I'll be able to run the Sunshine Coast TM event this coming weekend.  It should be a blast, although I'm not quite sure how many people to expect.  There seem to be a whole bunch of folks who did it last year, but I have yet to talk with anyone who is doing it this year (although, I will say that I overheard a girl on the train talking about preparing for it, so there's always that).  The earliest start time is 8:00, unless you want to pay extra for the exclusive opportunity to run starting at dawn, and the last wave leaves at 12:15.  That doesn't seem like too many starting waves, but I have been told that this is the largest TM in the world, so perhaps I'm reading too much into it.

I have an "official" start time, but my goal is to go out with the first way at 8, do a second lap and then see if I'm back in time to do a third lap with the final starting wave at 12:15.  It will definitely be tight, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it.  Much will depend on the course, and having to essentially run 2 2-hour laps back to back might be too much to accomplish.  Either way, I'll get a second lap in, which will give me my 18th and 19th orange headbands, which I will politely ask them to put on upside down since I'm running "Down Under".  A third lap would give me my 20th headband, which I might just wear home on the plane on Monday if I get it.

According to the course map, I'll have a couple new obstacles that we haven't encountered on a regular Tough Mudder course before.  I'll have Sewage Outlet (I'm not sure what to expect from this in reality), Leap of Faith (which is different from the WTM Leap of Faith - thankfully), and Fire in Your Hole (which should be a blast, but doesn't even have a page of its own on the TM website yet).  I'll also have another shot at Hanging Tough, which - hopefully - won't include a rope midway across like it did on the Legionnaire Loop in Virginia.

I'll give an update once I'm done - but either way, whether I get to do three or have to "settle" for two laps - it should be a lot easier to do Everest upside down - after all, isn't it just a slide then?  Or, maybe I'm misunderstanding how gravity works on the bottom of the planet. 

Read More

Trying Something New

As the Oscar Winning actor Matthew McConaughey once said, "Alright, alright, alright..."

It's been a while since I posted anything, and I have been wracking my brain to come up with a new angle to take with my posts.  Particularly since I'm starting to feel like a bit of a broken record with my Achilles and "believe in yourself" posts.  There's nothing wrong with those posts, but I wanted to have something new to say, and I can honestly say that I do based on my experiences from last weekend.

First, I can truly say that I did something new with the Virginia TM last weekend - I volunteered.  Granted, it wasn't as "legitimate" as Daniel's "orange is the new black" volunteering that he did on Sunday, but I spent some time manning the Mudder Legionnaire booth after the races on both Saturday and Sunday.  And, I had an absolutely FREAKIN' awesome time (the "FREAKIN'" is for Start-Line Shawn).  I'm not really a naturally gregarious person, but I was having a great time handing out headbands to new (and returning) legionnaires, talking up WTM, and hanging out with other volunteers.  The booth was crazy slammed on Saturday, and I developed a little bit of a patter with each new headband I handed out.  With each new person who stepped up to the booth to get their headband, I was seeing the exhaustion that comes with running one of these events...I was seeing the excitement that comes with conquering one of these events...I was seeing the elation that comes with a free beer and a headband...and, most importantly, I was personally witnessing the victories that these people would hold with them.  I asked people who were finishing the second or third TMs about their experiences with their previous courses, and, I was surprised to find that I was able to commiserate with them.  A surprising number of people had run Wintergreen as their first TM and waited more than two years to do their second - a sentiment I can completely understand.  Anyone who were running their 4th (or higher) TM received a spiel about how it was time to sign up for WTM, and a surprising number didn't simply laugh at the thought.  The biggest takeaway from this experience for me was that I didn't have to be a salesman (a role at which I am woefully inadequate).  The sense of accomplishment and course-earned camaraderie naturally fed people into the idea that they could push themselves further.

Second, this was the first running of the 'hawk for me.  I had tried to do one in Atlanta, but they weren't offering a booth to actually do the shaving on site.  That meant that this was the first place where I was able to run with one, and I can legitimately say that I "rock the 'hawk."  Now, obviously my 'hawk wasn't as advanced as Daniel's, but "baby steps", right?  It was interesting how quickly I got used to it.  In fact, after an hour or so, I didn't even remember it.  Until I saw pictures of myself, I didn't even think about it.  The question is, what type of 'hawk do I go with for my next TM?  I'm thinking the reverse, but we'll have to see if they even offer the shaving option in Australia (yeah, you read that right...my next event is in Australia).

Third, this was the first time that one of our children was present to witness us running.  I'd had family members come as observers before, but this was the first time any of our children ventured out on the course to brave the wilds of mud and obstacles - not to mention the pure coincidence of actually finding each other.  My son seemed to have a good time hanging out with my father during the day, and I got to give him a bit messy hug along the way.  All in all, I consider that a good day.

So, all of these firsts (among others) and what's the lesson?  I guess the biggest lesson is summed up by a question that Start-Line Shawn asked in VA: "When was the last time you tried something for the first time?".  I try to do something new everyday, but life gets monotonous at times.  We all need to be shaken out of our sedentary ways because that's the only way to move forward with out lives.  Everyday life has a way of creating inertia in our experiences...we go to work the same way, we watch the same TV shows, and we go to bed at the same time.  These routines make it easier to get through tasks, but they also create a sense of "sameness" to our days...and that sense of "sameness" can weigh us down.  Volunteering during the VA mudder and joining into the community of mudders in a way that I hadn't before really showed me that shaking the dust off my life is absolutely worth doing.

Read More

Tough Mudder Virginia Awards

Tough Mudder Virginia is in the books and in honor of the completing another mudder and another school year I thought I'd offer some course superlatives.  First a snapshot of the mudder team complete in the new home team Year in the Mud shirts!

Best New Obstacle:  Pyramid Scheme -  There was  a lot of skepticism around this new obstacle but it proved to be a great addition.  It was impossible to conquer alone and it brought out a great deal of camaraderie on the course.

Most Likely Obstacle to Fail On:  Hangin' Tougher was introduced in the legionnaire loop.  It consisted of 3 rings, a rope and then 3 more rings.  The transition from the rings to the rope did a lot of people in including the three of us on multiple attempts.  It was a nice addition to the course.

Obstacle I Missed the Most: Everest - Everest is a Tough Mudder staple and it just doesn't feel the same without it.  I love the feeling of charging the ramp and I love to see the fails associated with charging the ramp.  Bring Everest back soon!

Obstacle That Allowed People to Flip On:  None of them!  Come on Tough Mudder.  Bring back the Fleeep!  Somewhere...Anywhere.

Best New Addition to the Team:  D Dub C's brother Dominic.  When he wasn't asking people where the beach was he was crushing obstacles.  He actually carried an entire tree on the hold your wood obstacle.  He literally uprooted a tree, put it on his back and replanted it when he was finished.




Most Accurate Naming of an Obstacle:  Arctic Enema - We have done this obstacle countless times and it always terrible.  This time it was packed with more ice than it ever has been before.  I felt like I was jumping into a cooler full of ice.  To make matters worse there was no official ladder to get out.  Parts of me are still recover from this obstacle.

False Advertising Obstacle:  Balls To The Wall.  Never really even came close.  You could if you wanted to but that would just be weird.

False Advertising Obstacle 2: Pole Dancer - I didn't see anyone dancing or even making it rain.  In all seriousness it needs to be over water like it was in Atlanta.  It completely changes the obstacle.  Once again falling two feet into the dirt below really isn't intimidating.

Obstacle Most In Need of Renaming:  Kiss Of Mud - This obstacle was devoid of mud.  It was really like kissing some terrible sand that removed skin like sandpaper.

Biggest BS Obstacle:  Devil's Beard.  It really isn't an obstacle when you can walk through the whole thing standing up.  Having a net on your head isn't a challenge unless you are serving sloppy joes to 4th graders in the cafeteria.

Biggest Fail on the Course:  This goes to the guy that held up the line on walk the plank and then didn't jump.  We counted down for the guy more times than Sesame Street does in an entire episode.  Jump already!

Best Volunteer on the Course:  This award goes to none other than our very own D Dub C.  He ran the funky monkey obstacle with a beautiful combination of precision and motivation.  Watch out Start Line Sean and Finish Line Fred.  You may have some competition when Drink Line Danny gets in the game.

Worst Volunteer on the Course:  The lady at one of the mud crossings that sat under the tent and didn't talk to anybody.  Come to think of it.  Maybe she was lost, dehydrated and not a volunteer at all.

Thank you Tough Mudder Virginia.  It was an amazing weekend! I'm sure my teammates can think of more superlatives.  Be on the lookout for a post about the most most firsts ever in a mudder.  It is sure to be a classic.

Read More

Blackjack, Baby!

Atlanta has come and gone, and I can finally say that I've hit my blackjack.  It's been a while since Danny and Brian accomplished the goal at the Tri-State TM last year, and I've been itching to get one under my belt.  Mainly, I wanted to push myself, but I also wanted to make sure that this was one less thing that Danny and Brian could hold over me.  A special thanks go to Brian, who graciously allowed me to run the second lap alone on Saturday so that we would all end up with one blackjack - it was very giving of him.

The other big thing that came from Atlanta was a Headband Bonanza. I walked away from Saturday and Sunday in Atlanta with a total of 9 headbands (3 orange for finishing 3 laps, 2 black and orange 10X, 1 pink 7-9X, 1 yellow 4-6X, 1 blue 3X, and 1 green 2X), and was promptly asked "Where are you planning on putting all of THOSE?" by my wife. I've got them all in a bag, along with my race numbers and shirts, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with them.  I may have to shove them in the back of a drawer, if I don't come up with something soon.

I've heard the new colored Mudder Legion headbands called "Skittles," and it's become a bit of a "thing" to take a picture with all of the various headbands on at once (which I felt obligated to do). I wasn't quite sure how I would feel about the whole Legionnaire thing.  It seemed a little silly and childish, but I think I'm a convert.  It's pretty clear to me that the Tough Mudder HQ is trying to find a way to encourage people to do multiple TM events.  After all, at some point the pool of people who haven't done an event but are willing will shallow and growth will have to come from somewhere else.  So, it's pretty clear that the idea of recognizing the folks who have run multiple events is a marketing ploy, but that doesn't mean that it is without merit.  In my mind, the concept has two big benefits to the individual runner.  First, there is a certain sense of accomplishment when a person is recognized for doing something difficult (especially if it is

something that relatively few other people have done).  I'm not motivated to run Tough Mudders for recognition (my Mudder Bruddas provide me enough of that, thank you), but public recognition for accomplishments can push people forward.  Having Start Line Sean ask you to stand up and have everyone recognize you can make you feel special.  Hearing people recognize the 10X headband while you're running and whisper "Do you see that?  You know what that headband means, right?" to their fellow runners makes you feel as if you're doing something impressive.  Stepping up to the Mudder Legionnaire sign-in table and have the volunteer see a double digit number next to your name, have to go searching for a headband, and ask to shake your hand, are all pretty surreal events.  Everything in the experience (at least at the higher levels of headband) seems intended to make you stand out as special.  If you are motivated by that recognition, it will definitely feed your ego (and I'll admit that it was cool to have people ask if I'd really run more than 10).

Second, it makes it much more obvious that you have a responsibility to others on the course.  The fact that you've been "marked" as special means that you may start to feel like you have to earn that recognition.  I found myself talking about the intricacies of the course with my fellow mudders and giving them pointers about how they could succeed.  I found myself standing waist-deep in the mud at mud mile and offering to lift person after person over the walls - all the while waving off any suggestion that it was "my turn next."  I stood at the top of Everest (which, by the way, seemed to be the easiest Everest I've ever confronted at at TM event) and help as many people succeed as I could.  Granted, whatever made Everest seem "easy" meant that there weren't all that many people who were failing on their attempts, but there were a few - and I felt like helping as many as I could.  I would consider myself a pretty normal guy.  A guy who is willing to help others when they need it.  A guy who has empathy and will stop to ask if you're okay when I see you have a leg cramp.  A guy who will give pointers if asked.  But this was different...I felt the responsibility of the badge, and I think that is what TMHQ was hoping for.

The lesson for education that I take from this experience is that badges can work to both motivate and alter behavior.  The key is that the badges need to be worth the effort and should properly convey they message that they intend.  To illustrate this, I'll use conference badges as an example.  It's become stylish for conference organizers to build a series of virtual badges that attendees can earn.  I've been at conferences and received an email as soon as I picked up my registration packet saying I had just earned "The Conference Registration" badge.  If I tweeted something with the conference hashtag, I would receive the "Conference Tweeting" badge.  If I attended a given session, or visited a vendor, or filled out a review form, I would receive a corresponding badge.  In all of these cases, I would laugh and wonder what foolish person was actually motivated by those "silly little things."  The tasks that earned those badges weren't difficult, almost anyone who attended would receive them, and they held no intrinsic value to me.  I wasn't motivated to do anything or be anything different than who I would be otherwise.  In these cases, the badge system failed in its intended goal: to make me feel special and recognized.  In fact, the badge system may have had the opposite effect.  The Mudder Legion is just a different type of badging system, but it has value (at least to me) because I value the effort that I put in to earning those badges.  I know how hard I've worked before, during and after each TM event, and I value that experience.  As such, I value the recognition that comes with that effort.

If we want educational badge systems to work that way, we have to make it difficult to earn the badges, but worth the effort.  Also, we need to make it public that the effort is being recognized.  We can't simply give everyone a badge for attendance, and expect that badge to motivate anyone. We all want to feel special, and as much as we may say otherwise, feeling special makes us want to continue doing whatever it was that made us feel that way.  We can leverage that in education, but only if we do it the smart way.

Read More