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.

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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.

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WTM Dreams

I don't think it's any big secret that we've not really been keeping up with the blog recently (ok, if we're honest, for a year or so), but life gets busy, moves on, and laughs at people who think that it's under their control.

The purpose of this post isn't to describe everything that's happened since the last time I posted, but rather to describe a dream that I had last night.  Recently, I've been having odd dreams about WTM.  Just as a quick recap, I ran WTM 13 (New Jersey), WTM 14 (Vegas) and WTM 16 (Vegas again).  I wasn't able to run the 2017 event due to various life circumstances, but I followed along on the website as Danny ran and Brian pitted.  I wasn't super happy about not being able to be in Vegas, but it couldn't really be helped, so I sucked it up and did my best.

Well, apparently, I must have some issues with missing out because I've been having dreams about various obstacles and races.  Last night's dream was about an obstacle that required the participant to download an app on their phone as they approached a field full of various household objects.  In the middle of the field was a wall.  The app would inform the participant the specifics of the task that needed to be done with the objects and the results would be judged by a volunteer observer.

The first time I approached the obstacle I was shocked to hear that I would need my phone given the fact that there was a lot of swimming in the event and I couldn't figure how I would keep the phone dry throughout the rest of the race.  As with most dreams that thought quickly fled as my phone appeared in my hand.  I dutifully downloaded the app and was told that I needed to do something called "Power Outage", which came down to finding something that would normally move under its own power and then carrying it across the field.  I found a weed-eater and decided that it had moving parts, which was good enough for me.  I picked it up, climbed over the wall with it and dropped it on the other side.  The volunteer observer nodded at me to indicate that was an approved item and I ran on.

The second time I approached the field, I looked at the app and was told I would have to do something called "Simple Machining" which was described as finding objects to build a simple machine.  I found a Nerf football and a board, carried them over the wall, and put them together to create an Inclined Plane.  I showed this to the observer and he shook his head.  I was flummoxed.  An Inclined Plane is pretty much the dictionary definition of a simple machine, and I told him so.  He said that it wasn't a machine at all, and I would fail the obstacle.  I told him that was unacceptable given the fact that any Google search would show him the six simple machine forms that he should have learned in elementary school.  He got indignant and decided that he wasn't going to allow me to continue, so I decided to take a different tack.  Given the fact that I had my phone, and assuming that he simply misunderstood the distinction between simple and complex machines, I offered to Google it for him.  He accepted, but wanted conditions.  He said that if I was wrong, I would have to stop running the race two hours before the cutoff time.  Figuring this was a negotiation at this point, I told him I wouldn't do that, but I would take a 10 minute penalty.  I knew I was right, so I wouldn't have lost anything by accepting his initial condition, but I didn't want him to have even the small victory of me agreeing to his demands.  He agreed to my counter proposal, and with the conditions of the negotiation agreed upon I pulled out my phone to Google the answer, and then I woke up...

It was 3:15 in the morning.  My wife was asleep in the bed next to me.  My children were asleep in the living room (a long story in itself).  And I was laying in my bed seething.  I laid in my bed for nearly 45 minutes silently brooding on the idiocy of the made-up guy in my dream.  I got so wrapped up in this dream scenario that I started to question my own knowledge about simple machines.  After all, it was a long time ago.  Maybe an inclined plane isn't a simple machine after all.  I had to get up, since it became clear to me that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep without finishing that damn Google search.  I'm happy to say that I wasn't wrong.  An inclined plane is a simple machine.  I wouldn't have had that 10 minute penalty. I did lose a night of sleep, though, so that could have worked out better for me.

I guess the lesson to learn from this is that you can get TOO invested in things like this.  It is tough to take the emotions out of the various straw-man arguments that we make for ourselves, but it's silly to lose sleep over these things. 

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Life, the Universe & Everything

"I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where I need to be."

- Douglas Adams

Perhaps no quote better personifies the journey that I've taken over the past few years.  When this whole thing started, I would have scoffed at the idea of going to WTM even once, let alone a second time after the 2013 course beat me.  After the event last year, I posted about how I had to learn to deal with my expectations, and I'll readily admit that I was disappointed with my performance in 2013.  Even with a built in excuse, I knew that I had been beaten by that course - in the same way that we can't really believe the lies that we tell others.  Even if others believe those lies, we can't fool ourselves.  I've had to live with my disappointment for a year, and I went into this year's WTM with a more open mind about my expectations.  I wanted to be on the course for 24 hours, and I wanted to go as far as I could, but I didn't feel the need to go for 50 miles until it became clear that it was an achievable goal (barring injury, of course). 

The key was to separate the physical and emotional elements of the event.  Once I realized that these two things were distinct from each other and could be accounted for separately, I became more sanguine about being unable to complete the course because of physical limitations.   More succinctly, I was willing to let an injury make me stop, but I was unwilling to let my mental state cause me to stop.

So, how was my performance in these two areas?  Physically, I can honestly say that I felt strong the entire time.  Some of the obstacles required strength that I might have lacked (e.g. getting up Everest would have been very difficult), but none of the penalty obstacles were overly frightening.  That's not to say I was comfortable.  The setting and obstacles were designed to create discomfort, and the rise of the sandstorm in the middle of the night only heightened this.  However, at no point during the event did I feel physically unable to move forward.

That leaves the mental issues associated with the event.  I think the closest I came to giving in was when we took our long pit stop around 11 pm when the storm hit.  We agreed that we would take an hour to see if the windstorm would let up.  I took this opportunity to get out of my shorty wetsuit and catch a quick nap.  I think if my tent and/or sleeping bag had been more comfortable, I might not have been able to get back up.  Having said that, though, I don't think that there was anything on the course itself that ever came close to breaking my spirit.  The Cliff jump might have, if the penalty loop was less feasible as an option.

What does any of this have to do with Douglas Adams, ending up where I need to be, or to Life, the Universe & Everything, though?  I started thinking about this journey drawing to a conclusion with WTM 2014 (not that this is the end, just that the "season" has finished), and I realized that this was a pretty epic way to spend my 42nd year on this earth.  As anyone who is familiar with Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy will know, the answer to "Life, the Universe & Everything" is 42.  Which reminded me of the quite about ending up where you need to be.  The big things in life - you know, the things that make real differences in our existence - are rarely within our control.  We like to think that we guide our own destiny, but the reality is that we are usually along for the ride.  We can enjoy that ride, and end up where we want to be, or we can fight against the direction that life takes us and end up complaining about not ending up where we want to be.  I've come to the conclusion that I want to enjoy the ride...and so far, I've ended up where I think I need to be.

I know that this seems like a good place to conclude this post, but I think that it's actually more appropriate to conclude with another quote from Douglas Adams...a quote that is highly appropriate given WTM:

"The knack of flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss"

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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

 

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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.

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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. 

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Paralysis by Analysis

Paralysis by analysis can be defined as the state of over-thinking a situation so that a decision or action is never taken, in effect paralyzing the outcome.  This type of behavior is common in all facets of our life.  Like so many other things this phenomenon manifests itself all over the Tough Mudder course.  Everyone has an obstacle that gets in their head and causes them to pause before completing.   One of those obstacles for us used to be "Arctic Enema".  You can see the type of reaction that this obstacle still brings out of us in the pictures below.

The difference with this obstacle is that there is no longer a paralysis before the obstacle.  There is no fear of the unknown anymore.  We know it will be cold and we know it will suck but we also know that we will survive.  The paralysis before is always far worse than the actual act itself.  We saw a gentleman who completely froze on top of the walk the plank obstacle.  We chanted, cheered, and counted him down countless times but he wouldn't move.  He eventually walked down the obstacle and went on his way.  He didn't face the challenge head on and instead was frozen in his tracks.  The actual jump would be far less frightening than standing at the top.

Right now my paralysis has to do with this year's World's Toughest Mudder.  I vividly remember parts of last year's adventure in New Jersey.  I had no idea what was ahead and plowed through full force until I couldn't move anymore.  I was ready for the return to WTM in New Jersey.  I had my gear and a sound strategy to attack the course that I now knew very well.  Unfortunately, Big Mudder had a change of plans and we will now be off to Vegas for WTM14.   This means many of my knowns are now unknown.  I have no idea what the conditions will be or what the course will hold.  I'm not sure of what gear to bring.  I also know that there is no chance of being relatively dry throughout since swimming will be a big part of the event.  I'm now over thinking my training which results in little training.  The paralysis by analysis has fully set in.  Fortunately, I discovered this new Internet tool called Google which has some helpful advice from biz journal.  You can read the full article here or read my stremalined version below.

4 tips for overcoming paralysis of analysis

Far From Perfect Form

1. Reject Perfectionism - I have yet to run a perfect race and WTM14 will be far from perfect.  Perfection only comes in the form of the true gazelle somewhere in South Carolina right outside of Emporia.  I'm going to fall, fail and flail during this journey.  There will be people faster, stronger and more ready to compete.  There will also be people slower, weaker and less ready to compete.  

2.  The Simplest Solution is Probably the Best - The formula for success isn't difficult.  Work your butt off and do everything possible to position yourself for success.  Don't over-complicate the formula.  WTM will be about running, climbing, swimming and a huge helping of mental grit.  The mind always gives up before the body does. 

3.  Focus on Getting Started - The first step is always the toughest one.  I typically hate the first couple miles of a race.  DC hates at least the first four miles.  The start doesn't seem to bother Pat at all. Something magical eventually happens at every course and we begin to enjoy the distance.  I always wish I could get to that moment earlier and not dread the start so much.  Finishing something others deem impossible or insane is worth the trepidation associated with starting. 

4.  Establish Milestones - I want to hit 50 miles this year at WTM.  That's my milestone.  I have no delusions of winning unless everyone else gets sick at the pre-mudder dinner.  Now I need to work backwards and figure out the plan moving forward.  

What kept me from hitting 50 miles last year?  

• Nagging injuries associated with running 5 Tough Mudder laps in the month leading up to WTM
• The world's dimmest headlight
• Lack of upper body strength
• Extensive time spent in the pit
• The wonderful hot chocolate served in the aid tent

All of these are within my control.  How will I train to control these variables and add to my 35 mile total of 2013?  That becomes part of the plan.

Paralysis by analysis is real but it doesn't have to be fatal.  The same approach that we use for Arctic Enema works for any situation.  Climb up, jump and keep moving fast.  We also do a manhood check immediately following Arctic Enema due to the frigid conditions.  This step may of may not also be applicable in every case.  

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Death Race V. WTM

Ok, so let me start off this post by stating that I've never actually done a Spartan Death Race, so take what I'm about to say with a huge grain of salt: I think I would actually hate doing a Death Race.  The idea of a competitive race that has no clear start or stop time, where competitors don't have the slightest clue beforehand what it will entail (aside from long hours and manual labor), and where you can be DQ'd at any time for either missing a cut or more arbitrary reasons doesn't sound all that fun to me.  There's something to be said for jumping into the unknown and doing something that you know will test your limits and make you uncomfortable, but I kinda like to know what the parameters are for these kinds of things.

Now, having said that, it would be kinda cool to try it once, but I am absolutely positive that I wouldn't finish.  I find the idea of being messed with to be a bit tedious.  The idea of having to find pennies in the snow, or building an ax, or pushing porcupine quills through logs, or carrying a bucket of water up and down a hill without spilling any, or any of the other crazy things that they're asked to do all seem fun individually, but stacking them on top of each other with no clear sense of purpose or completion time sounds like a test that I don't necessarily need in my life.

I'll stick with WTM.  I know what to expect from that - at least in the broadest sense of the word.  True, I don't know details about the course, but I know that it's a question of surviving for 24 hours.  As with most things in life, understanding the parameters of the challenge makes it much more likely that you'll succeed.  Having an unclear understanding of what the process will entail, and constantly having to battle for every little victory, only to have that victory be unappreciated and followed by another random challenge...all of these things are a recipe for failure.  Unfortunately, it seems that often we have to deal with this type of structure when we deal with everyday life.  I don't think it's because we HAVE to (after all, there's nothing inherent in life that makes it chaotic and frustrating - perhaps that's debatable, but it's not what I believe).  I simply think that we sometimes don't know how to do things any other way.  We get so caught up in reacting to our situations...putting out fires as they start...and "dealing" with things that happen to us when what we should be doing is creating our own situations...starting our own fires...and making things happen for ourselves.  But doing that means that we have to have a vision for what we want to accomplish and have a strong understanding of the process involved to get there.  Now, which of the two events (Death Race versus WTM) sounds more like my ideal?  Which sounds more like your ideal?

Plus, we get to go to Vegas, baby!

PS.  Just to be clear, I completely respect the folks who are willing to undertake the Death Race.  There's a special kind of madness involved with it, and anyone who signs up to participate (forget about finishing...) deserves respect.

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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.

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Ankle-versary

So, we've reached the one year anniversary of my ankle surgery.  I would consider my "ankle-versary" to be May 8th, since that's when I actually tore it, but since I didn't have the surgery until the 17th, which would be the real date of when the healing started, that's the day.

I can't promise that this will be my last post that mentions the Achilles tear, but I will promise that it will be the last one solely dedicated to it.  It's time to put things in perspective, put things in their place, and put things in the rear-view mirror.  I'm about 90% recovered, and I'm getting better every day.  I still notice the fact of the injury every time I have to make a quick movement, but I can walk without pain and have been able to run and do plyometric workouts without too much trouble.

There is, of course, the psychological effects to deal with.  My ankle is strong enough to do pretty much everything I'd want to do with it.  Since last fall, I've run six laps at three different regular Tough Mudder events, and another six laps at WTM.  I've finished various rounds of Insanity, Asylum and T25, and I've been able to run a long run while averaging sub-10 minute miles, so, I would assume that this means that the physical part of the recovery is pretty close to done, but learning to trust the ankle again isn't coming as quickly.  I still find myself being overly careful when getting down off of obstacles - most notably, Berlin Walls.  The drop is a bit scary because I'm not sure how my ankle will react to a sudden jolt. This might not be a bad thing, obviously.  Being cautious around obstacles is good practice.  I don't want to be careless and put myself in physical danger if it can be avoided.

I guess this is the big lesson that I would take away from this.  Although it's appropriate to be cautious, we have to make sure that caution doesn't control us to the detriment of being adventurous as well.  We should always be open to the possibility that the next step could hurt, but isn't it more important that we think about the journey that step can lead to as well?  If we paralyze ourselves thinking about all of the bad things that can happen, then we needlessly close ourselves off from a lot of possibilities to do amazing things.

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What Lies Within

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

 – Ralph Waldo Emerson

DC recently penned a post entitled "One Goal - Many Paths" which you can read by clicking here.  In this post he talks about how each of us has taken a different path towards the same goal.  At the end he challenges Pat and I to highlight our path so far this year.  This is my attempt to sum up the first part of my 2014 year in the mud.

I learned a lot about myself at World's Toughest Mudder.  Three things really stick out to me when I think about lessons learned. 

1. I am capable of doing things that I never thought I could and that most people would never think of doing.  This has been a big part of the journey so far.  There is always a notion to up

   

   Me at the end of almost any workout!

   the ante with each challenge and adventure.  This has caused each of us to visit numerous doctors, emergency rooms, etc.  It has also forced us to push past the limits we impose on ourselves. 
2. You are in big trouble when your strength and grip begin to fail.  The number of penalties I began racking up for failed obstacles undoubtedly adding unnecessary miles to the race.  The feeling of taking a penalty at boa constrictor because you know you cannot pull yourself up has driven me
   
   so far this year.  I have been relentlessly working on grip and upper body strength through a rigorous CrossFit program.  I've seen in this short time the amount of weight that I can press, squat, clean, etc. grow tremendously.  There is something about ringing the bell to note a new personal record (pr) that drives you even harder to get better.  I also recently became a CrossFit Level I Certified Trainer in an attempt to learn more about this evolving sport and the benefits is can have on my mud running career.  I feel confident that this year I will show up stronger and ready to tackle the challenges that lie ahead.
3. Everything we have accomplished including World's Toughest Mudder is because the three of us do it together. I guess somewhere along the way we gave up on finding our elusive fourth member and settled on the magic number 3. DC, Pat, and I would not have been here without the constant push and competition.  Each of us have pushed past breaking points because the other kept going.  I wouldn't be out on a course by myself because to me the journey is as much about camaraderie as it is about pushing my personal limits.  We are taking slightly different paths this year to get back to WTM.  Many races we will run as a three man unit but others will only have 2/3 of the Bad News team.  DC and Pat will also be running races individually.  

I know we will be better prepared and ready to up the mileage and the adventure at the WTM 2014 wherever it is going to be held.  Since the beginning of our 2014 season is underway I thought I'd add where you will see us this year.  We have a new logo (coming soon) and t-shirts so be on the lookout for those.  Let us know if you will be in some of these places so we can meet up and take on challenges together.  One of our favorite parts of this journey is the amazing people that we have met along the way.

What Lies Before Us

The season has started with a two lap performance and an unforgettable road trip to Atlanta.  The calendar for the year is as follows:

June - VA Mudder

July - DC Spartan Sprint

August - Virginia Super Spartan (The team returns to Wintergreen where this whole crazy adventure began)

September - Capital Region Mudder

October - Tri-State Mudder

                Spartan Beast (This completes our first Trifecta)

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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.

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But What If I Fail

"But what if I fail?"

One of my favorite authors Seth Godin recently posed this question in his blog.  This question made me think about my World's Toughest Mudder experience.  His answer to the question of failure was quite simple yet profound.  The answer to the what if question is, you will.  You will fail and fail often if you are truly stretching yourself and trying to achieve lofty goal.  World's Toughest Mudder was a very lofty goal two years ago that became a reality in 2013 through a course of repeated failures.  

My World's Toughest Mudder experience can be looked at through this lens of failure.  I did not reach my initial goal of completing 50 miles.  My legs gave out much earlier than expected.  I failed repeatedly to cross the rings.  I even took several penalties without attempting obstacles in the early morning hours of the race.  I've teetered between proud of the experience and disappointed in my performance.  DC's post about Always Do Your Best   and Pat's post about Dealing with Expectations have helped me grapple with my own notions about performance.  Did I do my best?  I believe so...especially in that moment in time.  Would I do some things differently?  Absolutely which brings me to Seth's second question about failure.

A better question might be, "after I fail, what then?

Many people spend time thinking about things that they should have done differently.  This happened for me as a teacher after every lesson.  Keep in mind that you only know how to do things differently once you have tried something the first time.   My best lessons as a teacher never occurred the first time I taught the content.  As I refined lessons and changed assessments my results got better.  The same holds true for World's Toughest. My failure on the rings is a perfect example.  DC and I have concocted a number of different techniques to stay relatively dry on the rings.  Each one of these ideas was born out of a failure.  So far none of these techniques have been successful but it could be related more to operator error.  After you fail you will be one step closer to succeeding.  Success will occur on the rings in 14. 

I can look at my WTM experience as a failure which could be accurate.  I did after all wind up face down in the New Jersey swampland at 3 in the morning unable to move with the world's dimmest headlamp.  I am instead choosing to look at it as a springboard to my successes in 2014.  Similarly, my first mudder in Wintergreen was the springboard to many successful future races.  I know the weaknesses that prevented me from even more success at WTM13.  I need to be a stronger runner (both in speed and distance).  I have to continue to work on grip and upper body strength.  I need a brighter headlamp and additional baselayers.  I'm working on the plan that will get me back to WTM in 2014.  This plan will be littered with failures along the way.  Each one of these failures will continue to move me step closer to success.

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