Monday, November 14, 2011

Tough Mudder - Tri-State 2011- Englishtown, NJ

Everywhere we go
People Want to Know
Who we are
So We Tell Them
We are the Hotties, the Jalapeno Hotties!

I didn't pick the name.  I just tried to make the most of it.
My fellow Jalapeno Hotties and I paid a good bit of money, over $100, to beat the hell out of ourselves over the course of 12 miles.  From the the picture above, you can see it was a rough three and a half hours.
 Here's me up close and personal after I got home from the race.
I searched through the majority of photos that Brightroom Photography posted on their website and there was not one where I wasn't looking at the ground as a I ran.  At least I'm looking into the camera in these photos.  I doubt the women who look at these photos think they might not look good.  You all have a fan in me.  You're all covered in mud and you look exhausted and HOT!  Keep up the good work!
Is that weird?
Not sure, hut this definitely is.
In case you don't know what the Tough Mudder is, you should definitely check out their website.  (The video that comes up, definitely gets me fired up.)  So does this one.  The Tough Mudder is The Warrior Dash's big, bully of a brother.  It's more than 3x as long and about 10x as a mean.
You freeze your ass off at the beginning.

You get electrocuted by 10,000 volts at the end!  

That wasn't me, but that's a very good representation of my experience.  I caught a wire in the back of the head and definitely bounced my head off the ground.  I thought I might have had a concussion or broken nose.  At least my nose wasn't broken.
So that was the beginning and the end, but the middle....well, I'm not sure I can adequately describe the middle of the course itself.  I ran 12 miles through it covered in mud, there is a good chance I just forgot some of it!  A week later, my bumps and bruises are mostly gone.  The memories are a little hazy.  There definitely was a lot of mud and I know at one point I compared it to the Swamp of Sadness from the Never Ending Story.  Luckily, I didn't give up like Atreyu's horse.  God, that was a fucked up movie to be targeted at kids. There is no succumbing to the sadness at the Tough Mudder.
You can search the internet for how the marathon is a 'Triumph of the Human Spirit'.  Check out some quotes about running 26.1 miles. Having only run a half-marathon, I can only half relate to what that means.  Sure, there are races that are longer and more difficult.  I suggest Born to Run by Christopher MacDougall if you want to hear about the people who do them.  A marathon is the absolute farthest any portion of regular society will ever push themselves to go.  It's linked to mythical celebration of victory in Ancient Greece and it's name is used to describe any long, difficult task that tests the will of its participants.  On an individual basis, there is not an event that will test the will and spirit of the average person.  (Since I can't swim very well, I won't include an Iron Man Triathlon because I assume I'm at least close to average). 
The Tough Mudder on the other hand tests the individual as well as its participants as a group.  If you tried finishing the Tough Mudder or a marathon without being in at least decent physical condition you'd probably fail.  Unlike a marathon, unless you are an elite athlete, you are not going to be able to finish the Tough Mudder by yourself.  A marathon will test your will, but if you just keep moving your feet you'll finish.  However, climbing over the Berlin Walls, scaling the quarter-pipe known as Everest, climbing under the Devil's Beard, scaling the muddy hills of the Muddy Mile, or climbing through the Boa Constrictor is not possible without help from your fellow Mudders.   Other Tough Mudders pushed and pulled me and I pushed and pulled fellow Tough Mudders over and through numerous obstacles that might not have been possible without each other.  There is something special about helping both your teammates and people you don't know outside of climbing through a huge mud puddle through what could be compared to a gym class from Hell.
That's not something you get many other places.  The Tough Mudder isn't about who finished first.  The Tough Mudder is about everyone finishing!   The event raises money for the Wounded Warrior Project and was designed by the British Special Forces.  Before we were allowed on the course you take the Tough Mudder Pledge led by an MC who said Hoorah! a lot and also told us to take a knee.
Someone wrote on the comments on the photo page 'They had me at take a knee' and I can't help but agree.  Flashbacks to football camp and the brotherhood that I felt in high school and college immediately ran through my head. I won't exaggerate and claim my fellow Tough Mudders are now my brothers and sisters, but for those three + hours there was a definite sense of shared purpose and community.  As great as the sense of accomplishment was for me personally finishing, it felt just as good to know I helped other Tough Mudders complete their own journey.
Will I try the Tough Mudder again in 2012?  I hope so.  It won't be just for the group hug feeling I described above.  There were 2 obstacles - rope drag and Funky Monkey Bars - I'd like to try over again because those were essentially individual obstacles that I could not finish.  My effort and preparation are two things I can control and I'd like to prepare more and try those again.  Maybe I could be one of those elite athletes.  So look for more of these finisher badges in the near future.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma - State # 50

In case you missed the previous post, I hit up Oklahoma and the description on my profile became inaccurate.  Approximately 29 years, 11 months, and 1 after I was brought into this world, covered in blood and screaming, I made it to the 50th state in the Union. 


I've been to all 50 states, bitches!


Having visited the Sooner State, there is no doubt the wind comes sweeping down the plains in Oklahoma.
There is not a whole hell of a lot to stop the wind in Oklahoma. 
Quick, name 3 things to do in Oklahoma you can't do anywhere else on Earth. 
You can sing Oklahoma anywhere. 
Here's what I did to make my 50th state memorable. 
1. Dinner and beer at the Bricktown Brewery, followed by more beer at the Tapwerks, followed by even more beer at Toby Keith's I Love This Bar. That might sound like a lot of beer. Really, it only means I had at least 3. Given how full of nachos, ribs, and decorated cheesecake I was, I could not force many more beers down.  The nachos and ribs were good enough for me to keep shoving down my throat.  I may have just been hungry, too.

Spelling isn't their strong suit in the kitchens of Bricktown Brewery
The cake was all thanks to KwaK.  Apparently, the confused look on the face of our waiter when she asked him to write Happy 50th on the cake was priceless.  Even with my current beard, I'm pretty sure I don't look 50.  That confusion apparently carried over into the actual preparation of the cake as well.  Happy 50st?  It got a lot of laughs on facebook.  All of that is part the reason I put on 6 lbs over the course of this trip. And while I do have a nice beard my neck is not tired enough to make me think I have an extra six pounds hanging of hair off of my face. The beard is in memorial of past playoff beards and a jump start for Movember.  But could you imagine 6 pounds just hanging off your face? That's a hell of a lot of beard.
This beard's density is increased by sheer bad-ass.  It's probably close to 100 lbs.

I grow hair just about everywhere but where I want it to grow and I don't think all of that adds up to 6 pounds. I really can't get past the thought of that much hair.
We've been down this road before with dirt.
2. If you find yourself nearby, you should visit The Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial.  We here at PoMiFoS know this blog is not the go-to source for anything outside of knowing where Kyle visited a few months ago.  Given the lack of effort put into updating, and/or editing put into this blog, it should never be used for any source material.  Steal any and all jokes that you want.  The good ones were probably ripped off from somewhere else!
The point of all of this blogging self-deprecation is that my trip into The OKC Bombing Memorial Museum was an intensely emotional experience for me and my companion, KwaK and I eschewed having my photograph taken on the grounds.  The memorial itself is a beautiful tribute to the 200 lives lost in what seems to be an American tragedy that is too often overshadowed by what happened before (The first WTC bombing) and after (9/11).  Photography was not prohibited in the museum, but I was caught up in the whole experience.

 Each of those markers stands for a life lost due to the bombing.

KwaK reading the poems and mementos left behind in memorial.
A message from the search effort.
The museum is located in the former home of The Journal Record which was right next to the Alfred Murrah building.  The displays start on the 6th floor with a brief history of the building and the events that occurred leading up to the bombing.  Guests are then led into a mock hearing room to listen to an audio recording of a hearing on water rights involving the Wikle family.  The tape recording starts at 9:00 AM on April 19, 1995 and and at approximately 9:03 AM you can hear the explosion occur in the tape recording and the powerful experience begins.  I'll openly admit I was close to tears several times throughout the entire trip through the museum.  The story that struck me the most was of the nurse who died in the rescue effort after she rushed to the rescue effort.  There were so many stories of extraordinary care that strangers gave one another it was both sad and heartwarming at the same time.  It's sad that it too often takes humans behaving at their worst to prompt humans to act at their best, but it's good to know that the capacity for great compassion is still there.

3. After an emotional trip through the OKC Bombing Memorial and a delicious lunch at Jazmoz Bourbon Street Cafe along what amounts to Oklahoma City's version of the River Walk in the Bricktown District, we next visited The American Banjo Museum.
It's impossible to play a sad song on the the banjo and we both needed to be cheered up.  
 
Clearly, it's true. Thanks for proving my point, Dirt Farm.
Almost immediately after walking into the building KwaK and I met Bill, receptionist/volunteer/banjo afficianado at the front desk who gave us a rundown of the banjo as well as a brief performance on his own banjo.
This isn't Bill, but I wish it was.

I don't know if any 'Banjo People' (Bill's words not mine) read PoMiFoS, but if you're a banjo neophyte like I am you'd be surprised to know prior to the WWII banjo players were like rockstars.  If there was such a thing as an Xbox or PS3 or even television at the beginning of the 20th Century, I imagine Banjo Hero would be a best-seller.  Famous banjo performers existed, but I'll be damned if I could name any.  The Kingston Trio are probably the only ones of which I had anything close to prior knowledge.



Do these guys rock or what?  Maybe rock is not the correct word for the Kingston Trio, but I'll admit to a burgeoning taste for folk music.  And what's folk music without banjos?


I really don't care to imagine it.
And that really summed up Oklahoma City, Oklahoma for me.  The weather was pleasant and the Oklahoma City Memorial is a great example for what memorials should be.  Having not been to the 9/11 memorial, I can only help it has been done as well as its counterpart in OKC.  Since I was not expecting much from Oklahoma, it certainly did not disappoint.