Well I wasn't totally right, but I wasn't far off in a way I didn't expect.
We had signed up well in advance of the race. One thing about TM is it's really hard to find a deal or discount, so your best bet is probably to sign up early. We also signed up, regretfully, for a Sunday heat, as it was the best deal we could find. Then, once you're on their mailing list, you will see that they are all about the money. You will be bombarded, often daily, with emails urging you to buy Tough Mudder gear.
Snowmass is a small ski village about 3.5 hours outside of Denver, making it nearly essential to rent a place to stay for the race. We got a motel room in neighboring Glenwood Springs and spent the night on Saturday, to race Sunday and drive home post race. Glenwood is about 45 minutes from the actual race venue, so we still had a bit of a drive to get to Snowmass Sunday morning.
When we got to the venue, we were pushing it to get through check-in in time for our heat. The line was long, but I figured we'd make it since we had printed off and signed our waivers ahead of time. Then some lady with a bullhorn asks everyone to check and make sure they have the correct waiver. How could we not? I think. Then it turns out we, as well as a ton of other people, have printed off the Spectator Waivers. Now why in the hell they have 2 different waivers, is beyond me. Why each is 2 pages long, is another mystery. And lastly, why this info isn't printed in giant red letters on the online race packet is a bad idea.
This led to dozens of people realizing their same error, stepping out of check-in and over to the long waiver line, where they promptly ran out of waivers. So they had to send someone off to who-knows-where to print more and about a half hour later we were back in check-in, promised we'd get to race even though many of us would definitely miss our heat times. Once the waiver debacle was sorted out, check-in was pretty simple and we scooted through to the race area.
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| Worst way to carry someone, BTW. |
We were to be the last heat of the weekend and we immediately headed to the start line. Shortly after we got to the start area, an emcee began to push us through a short, and humorous (in a good way) warm-up. Then he handed the mic, which cut in and out repeatedly, over to the motivational guy, who then made us take a knee, for no less than 10 minutes, where he basically said the same thing about 4 times over. Not that it was bad content, but taking a long, really uncomfortable long, knee right after a warm-up, sort of defeats the purpose. We then sang the national anthem, no music or lead singer, just us racers, which was cool and we were soon on our way.
Lined up, right in front of us, was a ski slope, so I figured we'd be starting with a long uphill start, but the path quickly veered off and went down. And down. And down some more, to the lowest point on the course, conveniently marked with an elevation sign stating as such. With only a small obstacle along the way, we started off with 2 miles straight down on concrete. Not my favorite thing to do to my knees. The torture had begun.
After the decent we began to climb slowly up and hit the Arctic Enema obstacle. With is basically a couple roll-offs full of cold water with a board across the middle forcing you to fully submerge. Now maybe it was because we were the final heat of the weekend, but it wasn't as cold as I was expecting. Now it was cold, mind you, enough to rob you of your breath and cramp up those muscle that just took a downhill pounding, but it wasn't full of floating ice, like I've seen in pictures at other races.
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| Mysterious blue water at Arctic Enema. |
At the top was a series of obstacles grouped together. Some really tick mud pit walls that required assistance to get through for all but the most hard core participants. An electrified obstacle/water pit that wasn't marked, at least not that a saw, as electrified, but we soon figured out watching those ahead of us. This is important, as I have a pace maker and electric shock is a serious no-no for me. There was also the infamous Walk The Plank obstacle up here, which seems to be managed very well since Avishek Sengupta died on it back east a couple years ago. (We also heard several times from organizers about not jumping into the water if you can't swim).
After this series of challenges we wound around and began a terrible, knee destroying decent. Now, it may be the fatigue of being sick for a week leading up to the race, or the 2 mile concrete decent at the beginning, but I have never experience joint pain like that before. It was excruciating. I had some pain at the Spartan Beast in UT, which had a similar elevation profile, with some steep descents, but this one really got to me. My right knee especially, which is my "good" knee. It became torturous and we had a long way to go down still.
As far as the obstacles, none of them were particularly hard, save for the monkey bars (which I generally have trouble with) and the Pole Dancer, which dislocated several shoulders that weekend from what I heard. Some were down right laughable, like Bushwhacked, which was just cutting through some weeds and over a couple fallen logs, Bell Hop where you jump and try and ring a bell as you run by *shrug*, and Gorilla Something-or-other that was just a short steep climb up and down on an already steep course.
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| Tricky, but with few upper body obstacles, doable. |
Hold Your Wood was very cool and we partnered up was a stranger on that one. And there is always the classics, like Everest, that you just have to have help to get through. For me, the sheer presence of the mountain offered the biggest obstacle and most pain.
A new (and pretty smart) addition this year, was a course diversion know as the Legionnaire's Loop, where only previous Mudders could split off and do special obstacles built just for alumni. As this was our first TM, I can't comment on what was over there, but it sure sounds awesome.
I did like the signage posted throughout the course, which was obviously corse specific in many ways. That was until the end, where there were a string of thinly veiled anti-Spartan Race signs that I found in poor taste. Now I know Will Dean and Joe DiSena have no love lost on each other, but I've never heard or seen any anti-Tough Mudder propaganda at a Spartan Race.
All said and done, I did like the race overall. It was a challenging, well organized course. Aside from a few registration hiccups, it went really smoothly. We met several friendly folks on course and the team aspect of it is cool. In short, I didn't hate it as much as I thought I would. We had a really good time. The race shirt is definitely one of the best I've gotten, they get some really nice, free pictures of you and the post race content was really good, even though we had to have a quick beer and hit the road for the long drive home.
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| I don't always drink Dos XX, but when I do, it's free race beer. |
I clocked it at 10.5 miles, but my GPS is notoriously off, and most people seemed to agree it was right at 11 miles total. We finished in about 3:20.
When we got back to Denver, I could barely walk. Probably due to sitting in the car for hours right after the race, and usually when we run a tough race, we have a rental with a hot tub we soak in soon after. Fortunately the pain subsided after a day or so, but it was enough for me to question whether these long steep races are worth the punishment on my now 41 year old body.
Post-post race, I received no less than 3 separate surveys from Tough Mudder and many "buy gear" emails. Sometimes more than one in a day. This may be the most annoying aspect of the TM franchise.
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| Headbands well deserved. |
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