That didn't make it any easier come Saturday, but my four months of training paid off, and I finished the Ultra Beast convincingly, with plenty of time to spare.
My buddy Nick and I signed up for this back in December after I suggested we do a Spartan Race. Since we'd already done Tough Mudder a few times, which was about 12 miles, I thought the 12-14 mile Beast would be a good idea.
Nick, being both a sadist and a masochist, said we should do the Ultra Beast instead. The Ultra Beast is 2 laps of the Beast course, with time limits. Not being one to back down from a challenge, I agreed. Over the past 4 months this race has required us both to completely overhaul our training to become physically and mentally prepared for the race.
While Nick loves pain, he's also a philanthropist, and he came up with the idea to do the race for a charity. We managed to raise over $600 in donations to Action Against Hunger for the race, which feels pretty awesome.
Overall, the race went through the most difficult terrain I've ever faced. I've never ran 29 miles in my life, much less on terrain this treacherous. I'm talking "60+ degree inclines for an entire mile," treacherous. A lot of people sign up for OCRs to have fun. If you're one of those people, this is not the race for you. Do a sprint or a regular Beast instead. The Ultra Beast is something else entirely.
UPDATE: Here's a bird's eye view of a single lap of the course.
I'd consider this to be my greatest physical test to date, and one that I'm proud to have overcome.
Some quick thank yous:
Thanks to Nick for being an awesome teammate in preparation for the race and during it, and serious props for not giving up early on despite the adversity.
Thanks to my girlfriend, my family, and Nick's family for the support before and after race day.
Thanks to Metallica for the song "Orion," which played in my head throughout the entire race.
Thanks to the Spartan Race for attracting quality competitors, creating a very challenging course, and developing a positive environment.
Here's a rundown of the days leading up to the race, and the race itself.
Training up to the race
I made a post a while back about my training when I started preparing for the race. My training evolved over time, and had to evolve even further when I decided to sign up for a powerlifting meet 2 weeks after the race. Why did I do this? Because I'm an asshole. Truthfully, the powerlifting meet was never a priority to me at the degree the race was.
Here was my training split by the end. I mostly stuck to the principles laid out in my OCR training series, although my philosophies have evolved with my training. This was the best program I could develop that gave me adequate training stimulus but also left time for all of my school and work-related demands.
Sunday: Squat and Deadlift day: Heavy squats and deads, ab work (usually in the form of toes to bar), burpees.
Monday: Bench day. Heavy bench, tons of pull-ups, and that's about it.
Tuesday: Medium-fast run: 1.7-3.4 miles for a timed pace. Usually done on campus, which was mostly flat. My best was 3.4 mi in 22:45 (6:42/mi).
Wednesday: Either off, a light accessory bodyweight exercise/lifting day, or some stationary bike work. I started using the stationary bike after having an overuse injury creep up in my foot/ankle about 2 months out, and kept it in after I got better because I realized it was great for leg recovery and quad endurance.
Thursday or Friday: main accessory work. Usually arm, back, shoulder, and some single-leg work, plus burpees. The other day was usually off. Sometimes I'd do a little bit of something on both days.
Saturday: Long run, usually on a hiking trail. My longest run before the race was only 10 miles. I did this in 2 hrs 10 minutes, which sounds slow, but it was done on rocky and steep terrain (not as rocky and steep as the actual race, though).
The only thing I would have done differently is more weighted carries, since those were definitely the worst obstacles for me. If I wasn't also training for a powerlifting meet, I would have done front squats and barbell lunges one week and split squats and stiff-leg deadlifts the next, in alternating fashion, in place of regular squats and deadlifts. I think these movements have better carryover for this type of race.
My diet was pretty normal. Probably ate around 3000 calories a day, decently clean, not skimping on any particular macronutrient.
The week before the race
Training had been going great for Nick and I. Then on the Sunday before the race, Nick ends up hospitalized with the flu. GREAT TIMING, BRO.
He was in pretty bad shape for a few days with a 103 fever, and was considering the fact that he might not be able to compete, but by Thursday he was thankfully feeling nearly 100% with no fever.
The week before was all about getting my gear together and packed up.
To wear, I had:
Under armor shirt (short sleeved)
Compression shorts
Lightweight running shorts
Running socks
Calf compression sleeves
Simple, waterproof digital watch
For my Camelbak (to be carried during the race):
3.5 scoops Mercury mixed in 3L water for the drinking reservoir
Headlamp (this was required to stay on the course past 6:30 PM, otherwise you'd be kicked off)
Glowsticks (attached outside of bag, also required past 6:30, and a few spares in my bag)
A bag of table salt
6 Clif bars
Some GU energy gels
12 Advil (pain isn't an option)
Space blanket
A small bottle of apple cider vinegar (which is supposed to cure cramping nearly instantaneously... it didn't, but may have helped a little)
We were also allowed to bring a bin, which we could drop off and have access to after Lap 1. We could fill it with anything we wanted as long as it was 30 quarts or less.
For my bin:
3.5 more scoops of Mercury
Gallon of water (turned out that we were allowed to
Banana
PB&J sandwich on white
2 Nutri Grain bars
Fresh socks
Towel
2 printed pictures: The first was of Shia Labeouf's "JUST DO IT" speech for comic relief, and the second was Ragnar Lothbrok, the badass protagonist of Vikings.
I captioned it "Finish what you started."
The day before the race, we had to head up to the course for the packet pick-up and bin drop-off. It was rainy and ominous, which was fucking awesome (seriously). We were told not to leave our bins if we wanted to leave food, however, because of bears. *Foreshadowing.* So we picked up our bib numbers and brought the bins back with us.
That night, I had a metric shitton of chicken and rice, played some guitar, and tried to sleep around 8. I went on and off with sleeping since I'm not usually asleep that early, and read Blood Meridian when I was awake. I probably got 2-4 hours of sleep that night. Start time was 6:15 AM.
That night, I had a metric shitton of chicken and rice, played some guitar, and tried to sleep around 8. I went on and off with sleeping since I'm not usually asleep that early, and read Blood Meridian when I was awake. I probably got 2-4 hours of sleep that night. Start time was 6:15 AM.
Race day
Alarm goes off at 3:00 AM. I go downstairs and turn on the oven to heat up 2 egg white flatbreads that I had bought from Dunkin Donuts the day prior. Perfect breakfast (seriously, they're really solid).
Got dressed, ate, packed up the last of my supplies, hydrated, and headed off to pick up Nick. The drive, still in the dark, was about 45 minutes, and we got there before 5:00. Mountain Creek is a pretty beautiful place, with a gorgeous lodge.
Upon arriving, it became clear that the demographic of racers for the Ultra Beast was way different than other OCRs I had done. These people were in much better shape, and on average older (30s-40s. Nick and I were among the youngest there). These people were experienced endurance athletes.
We went up to the bin drop-off tent, which was a hike on its own, and shot the shit with some other racers. We went back into the lodge to stay warm since we left our sweats in the bins.
We waited around till 5:45, made a few bathroom trips, and then headed over to the starting line to watch the Elites start at 6:00. Problem was, there was a delay to getting the volunteers in place due to bears on the course *foreshadowing* and they didn't get started till 6:30, which meant we didn't start till 6:45. I was freezing by then, and just wanted to start, to warm up if anything.
The "I am a Spartan" speech went graciously quickly, and Nick and I took off fast to ensure we wouldn't get stuck on lines. We were actually in second/third place for a bit. The trail started off on an incline, and then after a brief flat came to a massive, near-vertical wall of rock, mud, and loose plants. I knew right then that they weren't pulling any punches with this course. In fact, the entire first mile was like that, and without a doubt was the worst mile I've ever trekked. Our fast start slowed to a literal crawl as we climbed up the mountain. I began thinking that I was insane for trying this.
We were given our numbers for the memory test at the top of one of these slopes, and it was at this point that I realized Nick was looking pretty run down. He had been lagging behind a bit during the ascents, and I waited up for him a bit to see what was up. He told me he was getting extremely dizzy and that his flu symptoms were coming back. He was going to drop out. He told me to move on. This was really disappointing because I knew how badly he wanted this, and I'm sure that he could have done it if he was healthy.
Still, I wasn't about to quit myself. Despite the fact that that first mile was so awful (and so were the next two... and most miles after that) and even made me question whether I could finish at some points, I carried on. My strategy for the mountains were to hike the ascents, run the flats, and speed down the descents. There were very few flats. The elevation changes were by far the worst obstacle in the race, and the reason that finishing times for this are so much longer than regular marathons.
This was sort of a high-risk-high-reward approach to the descents, but it saved me a ton of time. It's a crazy thrill to be hurdling down a steep hill. It beats up your knees, which I thankfully didn't feel until mile 26 or so. There's also the perpetual risk of falling and twisting an ankle, breaking a leg, or worse. I passed several people along the course that were sidelined with twisted ankles and possible broken legs.
Miles 1-3 were mostly characterized by heinous elevation changes and weren't that eventful in terms of obstacles. There was a log carry (uphill and downhill, of course), which was pretty awful, and I believe the rope climb and hanging obstacle were within these first three miles as well. The rope climb was easy, but I actually missed the hanging obstacle (which involved transitioning from a straight bar to rings to ropes) due to a technical error. I grabbed the rope too low from the ring, and my feet touched the ground before I lost my grip. I began my burpees, which were thankfully the first of only two times I'd have to do them for the day.
Miles 4-6 were flatter than the first 3, but were far wetter. The water was chilly, and the mud was thigh-deep in parts. Luckily I chose the perfect shoes for this, Salomon Fellraisers, which drain off water and mud very quickly to stay lightweight. Unfortunately, the cold water triggered my first cramps (in my calves and hamstrings), which I would have to deal with for the entire rest of the race.
I eventually developed a contingency plan for the cramps where I'd take salt, a gel, and water. This pretty much always worked, even when the vinegar didn't. I figured out that when my Camelbak was diluted when I filled it with plain water at the water stations, my cramping improved. With both gels and the Mercury, I may have overdone it with electrolytes and not had enough water. Once my Mercury was diluted (I figured this out around mile 8) my cramping improved.
I'd have a Clif bar whenever I was hungry. These were pretty much perfect as race fuel and I'd have no cramping for quite a while after I took one.
I can't remember the order of every obstacle, but they were mostly standard fare for Spartan Races, but amped up a bit in difficulty. There was a gravelly, uphill barbed wire crawl around Mile 4. Walls of varying heights were throughout the race, a rope traverse was around mile 6.
Miles 7 through 8 were hellish. The tail end of Mile 7 was the bucket brigade, which entails carrying a bucket full of gravel up three steep hills and then back down. This was the worst obstacle, in my opinion. Immediately after began the longest ascent of the race. My quads, adductors, and hamstrings were cramping around this point, but once I nailed my nutrition protocols it became less severe.
During this ascent, I was with a group of 5 or so other guys, and one of them turned and pointed out something to our right: a big ass black bear, about 100 feet away. It was just standing there, staring. Then, two cubs came up over a ridge right behind it. I just kept a wide berth and kept going, making sure to let the volunteers ahead know. And that was pretty much it -- the first time I've seen a bear in the wild.
Another barbed wire crawl (much flatter and grassier) was at mile 10.5 (I just rolled for this one), a sandbag carry was around mile 12, two sled pulls were around Miles 9 and 12, which were decently heavy. The spear throw was just before Mile 14, and I made it on the first lap but barely missed it on the second. Mile 14-14.5 was mostly downhill and included the varied elevation monkey bars, hercules hoist (which was heavy as SHIT this year), and A-frame cargo net.
This ended the first lap at mile 14.5, and then I had the chance to go to the bin area. According to several people's GPS watches, the mile markers were conservative, and the course was actually well over 29 miles, around 30 or more. This doesn't surprise me -- some of those miles dragged on forever.
It was 12:15 when I reached the bins, and the cutoff to leave the bin area was 2:00, so I was well ahead of schedule. The first thing I did was check to see if Nick's bin was still there. It was. I had a suspicion that he didn't actually quit during that first mile, and I was right. I knew this either meant that he was airlifted off of the course, or more likely, that he was still going... with the flu. Hell yeah, man. This got me fired up.
At the bin area, I took about 20 minutes to change my socks, eat, refill my Camelbak, and take a mental break. I didn't lie down or sit for any extended period, though. That would've just made it harder to start lap 2. I left at 12:35 to start lap 2. By this point, I determined that I had to finish, because if I didn't, I'd have to try again next year.
I was dreading the ascents at miles 1-3 and 7-8 the most. Otherwise, the course actually felt easier the second time around since I had gotten the cramping under control. By this point, the trails were clogged up with people doing the regular Beast, and I had to pass these people to make time. Because they knew about my time cutoffs, they were respectful in letting me pass, and often offered words of encouragement. You meet some really great people at these races.
At the final checkpoint, mile 25, I met another Ultra Beast runner from Long Island named Brian, who was a really cool guy. The Ultra Beast runners were pretty spread out by this point, so it was good to see someone in the same boat as me. We were about 2 hours ahead of the 7:30 time cutoff for mile 25, so we took our time and commiserated over how badly we both had to shit. Repeated impacts wreak havoc on the intestines. We lost each other at the sandbag carry, but I was well past the worst of the course by that point, and the rest of the course was an easy, mostly downhill finish. I took these final downhills pretty fast.
I made quick work of the monkey bars, and it was after this that I saw Nick, waiting at the finish line. He told me that he made it 20 miles before being removed from the course after a volunteer saw him hacking his lungs up and doubled over in cramps. 20 miles, with the flu. The man can persevere. He'll get it next year for sure.
I helped out some guys with the hercules hoist (and received some help myself), scaled the cargo net, dipped under the dunk wall, jumped the fire, and crossed the finish line at just about 6:30 PM. Done.
Results
I took 66th overall in the Open category out of 326 finishers, with a final time of 11:46:23. That 326 doesn't include the many people that inevitably didn't finish, and I'm not sure how many actually attempted the race. By eyeballing the waves, (and taken directly from the Athlete Guide for this weekend), it was at least 1000. A volunteer said it was a record-breaking 1200+ who signed up for the Ultra. Maybe it will be officially released eventually. The finisher rate was probably somewhere between 25% and 50%.
I was 6th in my age group (M 20-24), 60th in males, and actually would have placed pretty well (I'd be 107/188 overall) if I went for the Elites.
For my first Ultra Beast, I think that's pretty good. Most of the finishers above me were in their 30s or 40s, which seems to be the peak for endurance athletes.
The aftermath
For the first time in the 5 years I've been doing OCRs, I was old enough to get a post-race beer. A cold beer was actually the last thing I wanted since I was already pretty cold, but I downed it anyway.
I got my Ultra Beast medal, which is also a huge and awesome belt buckle, and a finisher's T-shirt.
Oh yeah.
I didn't get any pictures at the race. PICTURES ARE FOR THE WEAK. I'll update this post with any pictures of me that get posted on the official website later on, though.
Update: All I could find
The soreness and pain began to set in after I crossed the finish line, and walking up to retrieve my bin was absolute torture. I was so mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. When I got home, I told my family all about it while devouring wings, burgers, and brownies that my cousin baked for me, then passed out early.
Sitting here on Monday writing this, I am still more sore than I've ever been, and I'm still shuffling around like a cripple when I get up. But I'm proud of what I've accomplished. I don't even want to think about another Ultra Beast right now, but I'll be doing a Super to complete the Trifecta and another Sprint to see how fast I can get it alone. Until then, I'm looking forward to going to the gym and being able to just do "arm day."
