Tough Mudder

Extend a Hand

Posted on March 24, 2012 by stilllearning2b

In those first few days and weeks of sudden singlehood, I was angry. I wanted to curse his name in a thousand languages, yet I knew only one. I wanted to create effigies of him and burn them, but our county had posted a burn ban that summer. I wanted to use his mug shot for target practice, but I owned no range weapons.

Bow and Arrows (Photo credit: JennicaLyons)

I realized soon enough that this mindset would not help me in the long run. I turned to the internet, looking for inspiration from people who had been there. Guides through the hellish journey of the end of a marriage.

I was disappointed in what I found. The vast majority of sites were populated with people who were in the early stages. Filled with vitriol and anger, spewing forth their rage across the web. I get it. You cannot heal until you release the pus that poisons the wound. But I wanted to hear from people who had started to scab over. I wanted to know what to expect when the scab fell off. Or how to keep it from becoming infected. Even better, I wanted to know what the scars of divorce would look like and how to help them fade.

Day 121: Scarred (Photo credit: Sarah Mae)

What I found was that people stopped sharing, stopped talking, once their own journey was set and they were out of the overwhelming darkness and confusion that dominates the early stages. That is a shame, for there is much to be learned from those who have traveled the long road and know all its markers.

The most powerful images I have from Tough Mudder is the spontaneous creation of human chains, as people (strangers in most cases), who were just slightly further along on an obstacle, extended a hand to the person behind them. This linkage allowed all to successfully navigate an obstacle that would have been insurmountable alone.

Those of us who are just a little further along on our journey through divorce and trauma can help others by extending a hand.

Marathon Motivation

Posted on March 9, 2012May 22, 2012 by stilllearning2b

It’s time for another race.

I ran my first race, a half marathon, 3 months after he left. I signed up because I needed a challenge. I needed something tangible that I could overcome in a set amount of time. I needed to prove to myself that I had the strength, both mental and physical, to push through and endure. Training gave me a focus, a purpose. At that time, it served as motivation to eat so that I could gain enough weight to handle the distance. It kept me moving on days I wanted to stutter to a stop. The race gave me a reason regain my physical health and an outlet for my mental health; that first race both gave me a reason to get well and proof that I could endure.

Although I ran many more races, my next challenge was Tough Mudder the following year. The motivation this time was somewhat different. I saw this as an opportunity to overcome the adversity with a partner, my boyfriend of less than a year at that point. It was a test of trust, of bonding, of partnership. Sharing the experience and overcoming the obstacles together brought us closer. The physical demands also stepped up my game; the half marathon I ran 7 days later was a mere blip on the screen after what those crazy Mudders put me through.

It’s been a year and I haven’t faced another challenge. It’s time for another race.

I’ve signed up for a marathon this fall. My first. I’m doing this one alone, in contrast to the first two. This will be my longest distance by far; I have yet to run more than 15 miles in a stretch. But that’s not really the challenge. I’ve shied away from this ultimate run in the past because of the training requirements; they are quite daunting. My challenge this time and my motivation is to learn how to maintain balance in my life even when something is pulling at me like an impatient toddler. I want to complete the training without being consumed by the training. I need to prove to myself that I can tackle a challenge and continue to live in the process. So, here’s to 26.2!

I’m a little afraid of what next year might bring if I continue this pattern…

Why I Became a Tough Mudder

Posted on February 26, 2012 by stilllearning2b

When I told my family last year that I had signed up (and paid good money) for an 11 mile obstacle run, I think their first response was to shuffle through their contacts looking for the psychiatrist I saw in the early months of the divorce. “You’re doing WHAT? Why?,” I heard repeatedly, usually followed with a resigned head shake, “You’re crazy.” Crazy I may be, but I felt compelled to do the event and I am so glad that I did. Tough Mudder was more to me than a run.

A few months after the July disaster of my marriage, I signed up for my very first race ever: a half marathon. This was a bit preemptive, since not only had I never competed, I still was weak and skinny. I went into that race only having completed the distance once before. That was the worst race of my life (cold, rain, illness), but I endured and made it through. It was exactly the confidence boost I needed at that point.

Over the next several months, I ran more races, but none of them required me to dig all that deep into myself. None of them gave me the sense of triumph over adversity that I was seeking.

Then came Mudder. My boyfriend was the one who actually found this race and he proposed that we enter together. I loved the idea immediately. With a shared purpose, we hit the gym with renewed vigor and not a little trepidation.

The event itself was unbelievable. It turned out that it was slated to be held in a dry county, so the money that normally went towards beer instead paid for a longer track – almost 15 miles up and down (did I mention up?) a motocross track. The temperature was cold, and the water obstacles were colder, as volunteers emptied flats of ice into the streams.

It was an amazing challenge for my boyfriend and I to tackle together. It gave a true sense of working together and overcoming adversity. My other races had been alone; it was beautiful to have someone to share this with. It helped me learn to trust him, learn that he was not going to abandon me when the going got tough. We pushed each other, encouraged each other, lifted each other, and even shared some muddy, sweaty kisses. It was amazing.

I think everyone, especially those re-centering after trauma, should do their own version of Tough Mudder. Something that pushes you further than you comfortably want to go. Something to show you what you can accomplish. Something to show you that discomfort is temporary. Something to show you that the support of friends can help get you through when you want to quit. When the big picture of what you have to overcome is too big, it helps to have a little Mudder to think back on and realize, “I can do this.”