So yesterday was a big personal day for me. I had done a couple of shorter Spartan races (sprint and super) TEN years ago, but none since then, and no large individual competition event at all, actually. But when I went alcohol free, I decided to keep setting those goals, and finally around the start of 2022 decided to give Spartan another go, this time with the Beast. For me (and for this particular course) it was going to be brutal—13miles, 30 obstacles, and over 4500 feet of elevation gain/loss. But I did it. It took …uh… several hours, and I was dead, too tired even for a bicep flex, but I did it. And I feel great.

But HERE IS BEST PART. As I was descending to cross a stream, I heard someone call my name. One of the “ultras,” those superhuman folks who were doing a 30 mile, too many obstacles to count race, with over 10,000 feet of elevation change. These people did TWO laps of what I was doing, plus several extra miles, and they still RAN PAST US.

So, who called my name as they were blowing by me? Someone who quit drinking around when I did and whom I’d chatted with over the last year or so. I’d never met her in person but had been wanting to for a while. I shrieked, we hugged, and she was gone in a flash, eventually taking first place in her age category and something totally insane like top ten overall. (And then later on I saw a giant black bear like 10 yards off the trail!  What a day!)

Also, another great reminder to run your own race. Sometimes it’s easier to do that in person than on social media. Just presented with everyone else’s successes while you’re scrolling, it can be easy to compare. Even within the alcohol free/health community, it can be tough in the early phase to see people who have years under their belts, have tripled their incomes and are crushing marathons or writing books or whatever. But when I was out there on the course, I had nothing but excitement and admiration for everyone blowing by me, and I was amazed by how many of the ultras shouted words of encouragement as they went by. We were all out there, off the couch, pushing ourselves, doing our best, trying to be better.

More and more, I value doing things to make me proud of myself and my effort.  I’m a truly terrible runner, and I’m one of the older people at the Spartan races, as it really seems to be a twenty something dude event. Sometimes I feel embarrassed, wonder whether I look ridiculous, wonder why I’m doing it. I do it because I now like doing things that make me want to quit. There is a special kind of satisfaction in doing what I know will be awful but will make me feel proud afterwards.