Amesbury Sprint- Triumph and Camaraderie

"People fail to get along because they fear each other; they fear each other because they don't know each other; they don't know each other because they have not communicated with each other." - Martin Luther King Jr.

Carrabassett Valley Academy kids representing at the Amesbury Spartan sprint.

This weekend's Amesbury Spartan Sprint was more than just another race for me. It was a memorable event filled with challenges, surprises and great people. I came with hopes of a little more practice on Spartan obstacles for some of the upcoming endurance challenges and left with a new sense of renewed energy for the sport of obstacle racing.

My day started at 5 am with a wakeup on an amazingly comfortable featherbed couch at my aunt and uncle's  house in Gorham, Maine, about 1 1/2 hours from the venue in Amesbury (I should add that the featherbed couch is worthy of an entirely separate post). I shook off the urge to stay in bed and made my way south while sun made it's way over the horizon as a thick layer of fog hung on to the lowlands and rivers. As the sun's rays blanketed the August landscape, I began to feel the energy of what would be an exciting day.

I arrived at Amesbury just in time for a quick warm up and visit with some of my Spartan friends. My first heat of the day, the elite heat, went off at 8 am as planned. While I enjoy the shorter obstacle racing distances, my long distance training has certainly taken its toll on my short game. My personal goal for the day was simply to focus on being uncomfortable. The idea of a sprint distance, after all, isn't to feel like I can maintain the effort all day. This would not be easy for me.

For the most part, mission accomplished. Despite the temptation to ease into my familiar comfortable pace, I made a deliberate effort to push my pace harder with the knowledge that the effort would likely last less than an hour. Where I continue to struggle is slowing my heart rate quickly for focus on the obstacles. This is responsible for the vast majority of my spear throw misses, and delivered as usual on this day. Part poor technique, part failure to bring myself down fast enough to focus, I have missed this obstacle on all efforts save one. This was no exception, but thankfully, the only obstacle that would give me any trouble.

Me, emerging from the mud at the end of the elite heat.

In the end, the result was my best sprint distance yet. I was greeted at the finish line with hugs from the amazing Chris Davis and Andi Hardy, which made the finish just a little more special. With an age group win and 6th overall female finish, I am thrilled to see my shorter distance effort pay off. While I can't say that I finished feeling like dropping to the ground, I am happy to say that I was grateful that my next heat wouldn't begin until noon.

Maria, Me, Sam, Sean, Briggs, Matt and Max before the race.

The second heat of the day was the one I that would prove to transform the day from great to amazing. Six of my students from Carrabassett Valley Academy had decided to join in the fun for a day of Spartan racing. For today's race, the kids would compete in the Open event, meaning that they would compete against the field of over 4,600 finishers and 821 teams. We started the morning with some fun in the Air National Guard pull up challenge a little warm up on the turf. My original plan was to run with the kids in their heat and provide assistance and support along the way. It was evident early on, however, that I was gassed enough from round 1 of the day that I would be rendered useless to our kids, as they are all talented athletes. As the gun went off and all six kids disappeared over the first hill, I decided that my adventure would be a little different than the one I had planned.

Although I have done a half-dozen or so Spartan style obstacle races, this was the first time I had run with no plan: no companion, no agenda, and with no regard to time or placement. I was free to cover the course on a whim, take my time when I wanted to, and stop to chat or help as I pleased. Always having some kind of distraction or focus, I never before realized what I have missed in all of these races:  a chance to glimpse the worlds of the thousands of other people on the course, each on their own journey on that day. Along the way, I made new friends. I had the privilege of helping others when they needed a hand and heard the stories of what brought them out to a Spartan Race. I pulled two people out of waist deep, black mud. I got to help Steve-o Opie Bones (whom I had met at a Death Race) encourage one of his teammates who had taken several nasty falls on the slippery wally to give it one more shot after she had decided to quit: she made it with two more attempts. I came across Nele

Nele and Reload Fitness getting ready for their heat.

Schulz, a fellow Death Racer, with her team Reload Fitness. Despite a suspected stress fracture, Nele was part of a team showing an unwavering commitment to help a disabled friend and teammate complete the entire course. The group dynamic was powerful and made me proud to be amongst the family of Spartans who don't leave people behind. I helped a dozen people complete the inclined wall obstacle and waited with an injured athlete for EMS to arrive. I watched a fellow Spartan fall from the top of the rope climb and emerge from the swampy water with a smile on his face. I convinced two guys to let a woman help them over the 8-foot wall after they had made several unsuccessful attempts on their own. On this lap, I witnessed courage, leadership, fear, composure, triumph and humility. Some of these people I know, some were strangers. All were part of making this day remarkable. I am pleased to say that I finally slowed down to take in all that I have missed.

I arrived in the festival area to the sight of 6 mud caked smiling familiar faces, all of whom blew my

Matt and Briggs celebrating a great race.

socks off with an effort of true Spartans. Each of them had their own stories of success on the course (2   of them hit the spear throw that continues to plague me), failures and burpees, and stories of how they

were empowered by others around them on the course. The final results revealed that all of the kids finished in the top 10% of the entire field of Open competitors and the Carrabassett Valley Academy team represented with a finish of 18th out of 821 teams. I couldn't be more proud of these guys and look forward to doing it all over again when given the chance.

So for this one, I say thanks to everyone for giving me the privilege of sharing your day and stories. Next time, I'll be sure to pay more attention.

Happy trails.

Little Spartans @ Fenway Park

Mom always says....

It is 5:30AM on Sunday, November 19 when the alarm sounds at our bedside in a hotel in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Immediately, I remember that I have to wrangle two sleepyhead children out of their slumber, get them dressed and fed and be out the door in less than 30 minutes. Let the shenanigans begin. I open my eyes to find every light in the hotel room is already on and my 6 year old daughter is peering under my nice warm blankets waiting. "You awake mommy?" Our 8 year old son Noah is already dressed and having breakfast.

Fenway Park all to ourselves? Woah.

This is a morning my kids have been looking forward to for quite a long time: the morning of their first Spartan Jr. Race. For weeks, they have insisted that I provide them with WOD's consisting of burpees, rope climbs, squats, lunges, pushups and whatever I can think of to occupy them. The morning has finally arrived and they are ready to go. Now.

While the kids' race is not scheduled until noon, I have signed myself up for the 8:30 time trial so we hit the road and search what seems like all of Boston for an attended lot where we can safely leave our dog in the car with the windows cracked. My husband Dave has somehow agreed to play gear and snack sherpa for the day while the kids and I indulge in a morning of play. Arriving at Fenway is immediately like a high school reunion of friends from earlier races colliding with memories of Red Sox games. An eclectic mix of emotions and memories. Realizing that I don't have the privilege to chat and soak up the moment as we are already running late for my heat, I quickly move through the 4 different registration lines we need to get us all set up. Waiting until the last minute to do this stuff = bad call. Bibs, numbers, t-shirts, snacks, photos, water, more photos...check... finally we head into the park, chatting and catching up wherever I can (and probably driving my husband nuts).

A stow away child in the starting corral.

And back over the barriers you go, kid.

The kids are warmed up and ready to race. But it is my turn first, so Dave psyches them up as my personal cheering squad, which seems to be a welcome distraction. Daddy= 1. Kids = 0. As I line up for my 8:30 heat, the kids are beside themselves with excitement. Charlie even decides to try to stow away into the adult heat multiple times while I continually lift her back over the barriers back to the spectator viewing area. Was I supposed to be doing something? Oh yeah, I never warmed up. At all. Crap.
Do child raises count?

My time trial begins and I am off for a Fenway adventure of burpees, stairs, walls, ball and spear throws, burpees, carrying heavy things up and down bleachers, box jumps, etc.

View of Fenway from the pavilion.

Being New England Red Sox fans, Dave and the kids had little trouble entertaining themselves climbing into and on top of the dugouts (did someone say they couldn't do that??), taking in the sun behind home plate and making friends with other Little Spartan families getting ready for their turn. As I snake through the stadium I periodically get kisses and hugs from the kids while they jump up and down wildly cheering. Yeah, I am that important. I brought my own fan club.

Having way too much fun while mommy runs. Mom didn't say we couldn't stand on the dugout.

Somehow I always seem to take a good gladiator pit.

Notable moments on my Fenway race: spear toss failed. Row 500m in 2 minutes. Good one Spartan. With just 15m to go, the darn computer sent me for burpees. Fail. And the sandbag carry up and down bleachers 5X: nice touch Spartan.

My fan club was waiting for me at the finish with snacks and warm hugs. We snacked on our Simple Granola and Fuel bars (like the kids needed MORE energy?) and enjoyed the warm November sun.

Snacking on some healthy Simple Brandz snacks between races.

Dave quickly recognized that I hadn't had enough and offered to hold down the troops while I played another round. I am so grateful that he embraces (tolerates) me and my idiosyncrasies. Within 10 minutes I had secured another timing chip (thank you season's pass) and slipped into the last grouping of the 10:30AM heat with plenty of time to change before the kids' race.

And then it was time. Within minutes, the infield was filled with over 150 miniature Spartans, mostly decked out with their signature orange Spartan t shirts. The parent's were spread out throughout a half mile course that weaved in and out of the field and over and under the adult course that the bigger kids would conquer twice. There were little kids. There were big kids. As the kids charged toward us, it was like the running of the bulls with a single rabbit out front in orange running for his life. There were giggles. There were smiles. There were crashes. Charlie stopped as she passed me, rolled up her pants and said "look mom, I have scratches on my legs like you". Spartan scratches. Charlie and Noah fearlessly mantled up and sailed over 3 1/2 foot walls, crawled through tunnels and raced the bleachers in a blur of little bodies and ponytails.

Charlie racing through the bleachers in the kids' race.

Noah with the characteristic tongue-out-of-the-mouth look.

After our own round at cheering, lifting the really small kids over the walls, and directing traffic, we realized that the only action photos we have of our kids were a blur. I guess this is a good analogy to raising kids anyway.

Koenig kids proudly displaying the fruits of their labor.

Upon crossing the finish line, the kids each received their finisher medals from Wally the Green Monster. Sadly, at that point I was nearly a quarter of a mile back and missed it. It was impossible, however, to miss the smiles on their faces since they are still there. We bid Fenway adieu and headed back to the car for annual Thanksgiving pilgrimage to Pennsylvania. As the kids snoozed in the back, we could hear the occasional clang of their medals that hung around their necks.

As for me, I finished both of my races within 30 seconds of one other and earned a 7th place overall finish for women (out of 1,124 women). Being the first female finisher over 30, I am happy to say us old moms still have a little fight in us too.

Next time, the whole Koenig family takes on the adult race.

Another one in the books- this time family style.