Want to know what it feels like – and what it takes – to win an obstacle race? Nerve Rush interviewed Jason Fitzgerald, who recently beat out nearly 17,000 people in the Warrior Dash obstacle race in southeastern Maryland.
Warrior Dash Champion! What does it feel like to be the baddest of bad asses in the obstacle race community?
Surprising! I wasn’t going for the win and I’m amazed that I beat almost 9,000 other competitors by over a minute. A few minutes into the race I found myself in 3rd place and my competitive instincts kicked in; I just went for it.
I won’t lie – it feels good – but the race has me thinking “how much faster could I go?” Since I wasn’t running at 100% effort, I might have to run another Warrior Dash to see what I’m really capable of. Stay tuned!
Was this your first obstacle race? If not, how does it compare to the others you have done?
Warrior Dash was my first obstacle race so I didn’t know what to expect. I knew the obstacles would be tough so I took my time going over them. They can get slippery from the water and mud so you have to be careful not to hurt yourself. My first priority was safety, followed closely by running fast in between the obstacles.
Because of that strategy, the race felt more like an interval workout: run really hard, rest while going over an obstacle, repeat. It was exhausting!
Let’s talk obstacle race training. How did you prepare for the Warrior Dash?
I did zero specific obstacle training. I’m a distance runner so I’m always running a lot and at the time, my training was focused on the 5k distance. So I was in good shape and had the speed to run pretty fast in between all of the obstacles.
One aspect of my training that really helped was that I do almost all of my running on hilly trails in Washington’s Rock Creek Park. Some parts of the trail are muddy, rocky, narrow, steep, and even dangerous (one of these days I’m going to fall in the river). Practicing those conditions and developing the coordination to run fast over uneven terrain really helped in Warrior Dash. The first half-mile of the race was on a similar terrain so it felt like any other training run for me.
What’s next? Any nuggets of wisdom for potential Warrior Dash champions out there?
I’m not sure when – or if – I’m doing another obstacle race, but there’s always that possibility! Right now I have my eyes set on a half-marathon in a few months with a few shorter races thrown in for fun. But there are a few quick lessons I learned from my Warior Dash win:
Start at the front (even if you’re slow) – you won’t have to wait behind people at obstacles and you’ll avoid the madness of the crowd.
Don’t wear very loose clothing – if it doesn’t get caught in the barbed wire (which is REAL!) it might come off in the mud pit.
Get ready for a lot of hills! Not every obstacle race has them, but most of them do and they’re tough.
Train on trails before the race. Like I mentioned, it’s incredibly helpful to be comfortable running on uneven terrain.
Thanks for your time! Where else can Nerve Rush readers find you?
My pleasure, hopefully your next obstacle race will be just as fun and fast. You can check out my running and coaching site at Strength Running. Also check out my detailed article on how to train for Warrior Dash if you want to learn how you can win your next obstacle race!
Thanks for the interview and good luck with all your gut wrenching adventure!
This is a guest post from Nate Damm who not only is a fantastic writer but, last year, spent 7.5 months walking across America. Yes, WALKING ACROSS AMERICA. I asked Nate to share some of his thoughts and images from the trip. You can reach him at Nate Damm or message him on Twitter.
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I’m Nate Damm, and from February 26 to October 15 of 2011, I walked across the United States. My route took me from from Lewes, Delaware to San Francisco, California. I walked across/in Delaware, Maryland, West Virginia, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada and California. I still haven’t calculated exactly how many miles I walked, but my best guess would be around 3,200.
Training & Logistics
My training strategy was a bit lazy, as I was living in Maine prior to the walk beginning and the winter temperatures kept me indoors. The plan was to get in shape as I went and take it slow at first. This turned out to be a good strategy, actually, and within a few weeks things were going pretty smoothly.
Logistically, walking across a continent can get pretty tricky. Water and food sources are constantly on the mind of a walker. And on top of that, you have to find a place to sleep each night. I was on a very tight budget, so usually this meant finding a hidden place off the side of the road where I could set up my tent (hopefully) undetected.
The Typical Day Of A Cross Country Walker
A typical day for me would start at around 7 AM, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. A lot of when I woke up in the morning depended on how secure of a sleeping spot I had. If it was a heavily wooded area where I knew nobody would see me, I’d often sleep in. On nights when I was hiding in a shed or in a small patch of trees in a residential area, it would be much earlier so I could get up and out before the sun came up.
After waking up I would first take my tent down and pack everything up, then enjoy a relaxing breakfast. Usually this was something small that required no preparation, such as Pop Tarts and an energy drink of some kind (unhealthy, I know).
I’d shoot for at least 6-8 miles straight first thing in the morning to get a good chunk of my daily mileage out of the way, then slow down from there. Afternoons were usually filled with many breaks and taking time to chat with anyone who was interested.
My favorite time to walk was in the evening around dusk, so I would spend that time watching the sun set and finding a place to sleep. Once I did, I’d set up my tent and usually just sit outside and read or catch up on phone calls. Dinner was usually some sort of canned pasta, eaten cold out of the can. Cooking was just not something I wanted to take the time or energy for.
The typical day was often not overly exciting, but that’s the way I liked it. The pace of an on-foot lifestyle is extremely slow, which definitely can take some getting used to. I grew to love it quickly.
Unexpected Acts Of Kindness
Without a doubt, the best part of the walk was the random acts of kindness that I experienced. Almost daily, and sometimes multiple times each day, complete strangers would stop and help me out in whatever way they could.
Sometimes this was a simple conversation, others it was the gift of a cold drink or sandwich. Many times I would meet someone as I was walking down the road and begin talking to them, and an hour later I would be freshly showered and eating dinner with an entire family, then spending the night in their guest room.
One of my favorite memories of kindness from the walk was from a day in West Virginia. It was around 30 degrees out, and snow was forecasted for the quickly approaching night with temperatures dipping down to 15 degrees. After a 20+ mile day I was cold, exhausted and nervous about camping in such cold weather, as my gear was not meant for temperatures that low. As I was heading out of town to find a place to camp in the woods, I heard a shout from the house to my left. A raspy voice yelled out, “Hey! Ya want some cookies?!” I could not see the person who was shouting to me, but yelled back, “Hell yes I want some cookies!” A man stepped out into his driveway and invited me in, then after talking for a while said I could sleep in his guest room for the night. He took me on a driving tour of the area, including a visit to the farm he grew up on, which was nestled deep in the West Virginia hills on a long dirt road. It was an amazing place that still had water gravity fed into the house from a spring in the hills. He then cooked me one of the most massive meals I’d ever eaten in my life. I woke up the next morning to fresh snow on the ground, feeling quite glad that I hadn’t woken up in it and had made a great new friend in the process.
In Nevada, I randomly met a guy named Rick, and we started talking about life on the road. Earlier in his life he had spent 9 years living in his truck, traveling all over the U.S. and Canada. He put 600,000 miles on his Ford F150 during that time and went wherever he wanted. It was a nice conversation, but eventually we parted ways as I had to continue West.
The next day a truck rumbled up next to me, and it was Rick. He was ready to help me out with car support and camp with me for a few days. Over the following few days Rick traveled with me, would give me water and food every 5 miles or so and then camp with me at night. I learned that he had been a POW in Vietnam, where he was also wounded. He escaped from the POW camp to safety, which was a story that was intense beyond anything I’d ever heard. Around our nightly campfires he shared stories from combat that blew my mind and brought tears to my eyes on several occasions.
He was a cancer survivor, and had also been in a coma for 2 ½ months after suffering a stroke. He had once been given 6 months to live because of a brain tumor, but opted for a very risky surgery which ended up working. Rick was the toughest and most interesting person I’d ever met. One night he told me, “I’m losing my vision, so every night I sit out and watch the sunset. I could lose my vision anytime. I’ve soaked up everything I can, my whole life’s been that way.” Eventually Rick needed to head home, and I needed to prepare myself for my final state border crossing into California.
As he hopped in his truck, Rick looked at me and said something I’ll never forget, “Remember, there’s no end to the adventures unless you put an end to them yourself, you control everything, keep going.”
The hospitality I experienced and stories I heard throughout the walk far exceeded any expectations I had prior to hitting the road.
The Final Stretch
The last section of the walk was bittersweet. I was excited to see friends and family after a long 7 ½ months on the road, but nervous about what would come next. Walking was the only thing I’d really enjoyed doing in my life up to that point, so I knew it would be a tough adjustment when the time came to settle back into a somewhat normal lifestyle. I did my best to enjoy every moment as much as possible as I wound my way out of the Sierras, through Napa Valley and toward San Francisco.
The final day was a whirlwind and went by quickly. Joined by a fantastic group of friends and family, I made my way over the Golden Gate Bridge and along the rocky coast on a beautiful hiking trail. Before I knew it I was walking through one final neighborhood, down one last hill and then found myself standing in sand. I approached the ocean in front of me slowly and rather calmly, but once my feet hit the water I was struck by the magnitude of what I’d just done. I was a bit more emotional than I’d care to admit, but it was a wonderful moment.
What I’m Doing Now
I’m currently living in the great state of Maine. I spend most of my time these days walking (of course), spending time with friends and working on projects like Gadlr and other geeky Internet stuff. Most of this upcoming summer will be spent living in my Subaru and exploring new places, while also visiting many of the people who helped me last year on the walk, which should be a blast.
Run For Your Lives, a 5K obstacle race, prepares anxious humans for a post-apocalyptic world. A world where zombies roam the streets in search of brains.
Getting hosed off after the race
First organized in 2011 at Camp Ramblewood in Baltimore, MD, Run For Your Lives attracted 12,000 people and in 2012 expanded to 11 more locations. Registrants can either sign up as a zombie or as obstacle race participants. Zombies are encouraged to show up in their own costume, though they are supplied with wardrobe and professional make-up.
At the race in Amesbury Sports Park, I saw cowboy zombies, clown zombies, graduation zombies — you name it.
The Zombie Obstacle Race Course
So how does the race work, exactly? Well, like other obstacle races, participants trudge through mud and physically taxing obstacles. Throughout the course, zombies are positioned to try and steal one of 3 flags that each participant wears. It’s similar to flag football, though much more startling–I had zombies sneak up from behind, dart out from behind trees and leap up out of ditches. Fun stuff.
In Amesbury, the first obstacle was a large hill.
Participants are placed in waves of 300-450 people, depending on the course. Obstacles are natural and man-made. At the race in Amesbury, I ran through chest deep water and mud, crawled under an electric fence, sprinted through a zombie-infested open field and nearly fell into a trap following a sign through a door that said, “Free Cookies in Here!”
Throughout, but mostly after the race, the Apocalypse Party features food, drinks, vendors, live music and games. Camping is highly encouraged.
How I Would Survive the Zombie Apocalypse
With a shot gun, of course. And some duct tape.
Despite a triumphant battle, my third flag was ungraciously yanked from my loins about two-thirds of the way into the course. Of the 5 other members on my team, one person survived! Again…shot gun.
sport. But how did this insane test of endurance come about? We’re so glad you asked.
The Start
It all got started in 1978. In Oahu, Hawaii, following a running race, a debate broke out between endurance swimmers and runners. Who was the better athlete? Both slides remained unflinching. Meanwhile, someone claims that cyclists have the highest VO2 output (a measure of cardiovascular endurance).
A challenge was born. Navy commander John Collins suggested that a combined race could finally settle the argument once and for all. As a result, the 3 longest distance races on Hawaii at the time were combined into an epic endurance race:
The Waikiki Roughwater Swim (2.4 mile / 3.86km swim)
The Around-Oahu Bike Race (115 miles / 185.07km bike)
The Honolulu Marathon (26.2 miles / 42.195 km run)
Collins recalls saying;
“The gun will go off about 7 a.m., the clock will keep running and whoever finishes first we’ll call the Ironman.”
Because the race needed to have consecutive legs, the bike race was shortened 3 miles to 112 miles so it would end at the marathon starting line. This meant the official distance for the first Ironman race ever was a total 140.6 total miles – and it’s been the same ever since. Whew! 12 people–including Collins–competed in that first race and Gordon Haller, a taxi cab driver at the time, crossed the finish line first and became the “original” Ironman with a time of 11 hours, 46 minutes and 58 seconds.
The race was held on Oahu until 1981, when it was moved to the Big Island of Hawaii where it now has its namesake of the “Kona Ironman.” The lesser populated island has proved to be an infamous location, daring athletes to brave 45mph crosswinds and 95 degree heat. The Kona Ironman is truly the ultimate test of endurance.
Kona Ironman, Memorable Finishes
Julie Moss 1982
Named one of the most defining sports moments of sport by ABC Sport, Julie Moss’s Ironman finish in 1982 shot the sport of triathlon into the mainstream. With just a few minutes of televised footage, Moss turned a fringe sport into an international competitive sport. So what was so extraordinary about this? Moss was a 23-year old physiology student racing as part of a research experiment and surprisingly found herself out in front of the women’s course with just a few hundred yards left – her body began to fail and she could barely walk.
Unable to keep moving forward on foot, Moss dropped to her knees and began to crawl towards the finish line. Just yards away from being done, Julie was passed by Kathleen McCarty who won the race. Undeterred, Moss, while being watched by millions, continued to crawl across the finish line where she collapsed capping off a race finish that truly has to be seen to be believed. Luckily, we have that video for you right here.
Channeling memories of Julie Moss’s ghost, Sian Welch and Wendy Ingraham experienced one of the very similar endings as Julie 15 years later. Just a few yards away from the finish line as they were entering the final shoot, both competitors collapsed. As they struggled to get up and continue racing, they discovered their body simple had nothing left. With their ability to walk, gone, they both began to crawl towards the finish line with Wendy Ingraham pulling ahead at the end with Sian Welch right behind her. Once again, a memorable finish you have to see to fully experience.
Craig Alexander of Australia holds the current men’s Ironman course record with a finish time of 8 hours, 3 minutes and 56 seconds. Chrissie Wellington of Great Britain set the women’s course record in 2009 with a record time of 8 hours, 54 minutes and 2 seconds. Needless to say, these finishers were moving!
Qualifying For The Kona Ironman
After the incredible televised finishes and the seemingly incredible distances athletes have to cross, the Ironman entry has become a hot ticket item in endurance racing. To handle the demand, Kona race organizers developed a qualifying system. Instead of an open registration, athletes can qualify 1 of 3 ways.
Earn a qualifying spot at a Ironman World Championship qualifying event (these can be either the 70.3 or 140.6 Ironman branded races)
Win a slot through the Kona lottery selection program
Win a slot through the Kona Ironman eBay auction.
If you manage to get a slot, you’ll get to pay around $750 to participate in one of the most incredible races on earth (not to mention one of the most taxing). So if you’re up for it, remember the Ironman athletes’ motto:
“Swim 2.4 miles! Bike 112 miles! Run 26.2 miles! Brag for the rest of your life!”
Do you have what it takes to be called an Ironman?
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If you’re interested in running an Ironman..it all starts with a Sprint Triathlon. While Ironman athletes might look like Superman, they all had to start somewhere. Most triathletes start out with a sprint triathlon and despite what you might think, no matter your fitness level, you can train for a sprint triathlon in just 3 months. Give it a shot.
A unique race, never attempted before – from Peru to Guyana in 3 weeks, going through Ecuador, Colombia and Venezuela. The adventure begins on 1st of August 2012! Do you dare to take it on?
What is ‘The Inca Rally’?
Imagine blitzing across the Peruvian Andes, hustling through Ecuadorian deserts and Colombian plains, cruising through Venezuela’s Caribbean coastline and plunging into the depths of the Guyanese Amazonian jungle in just under 3 weeks. That’s The Inca Rally.
As you race along its 8,000 km route, you will experience one of the most stunning landscape ranges and mingle amongst some of the most exciting cultures of any rally. You will party the nights away in the different capitals, learn about great community projects en route and challenge yourself throughout with all the other racers that you meet.
This is real adventure. With a purpose.
The Route
The rally is an unsupported and untested charity race across South America’s most challenging terrains; taking racers from Peru to Guyana through Ecuador, Colombia and Venezuela in 3 weeks.
These are the countries once fabled to be home to the mythical golden city of El Dorado, believed for centuries to be hidden deep in the South American jungle. Along the way, racers will climb vertiginous Andean peaks, cruise through vast plains, bask in the Caribbean sun and plunge into the Amazonian basin. There is no official route – just parties organised in each capital for the drivers who make it that far.
This is the first and only rally to cross this challenging section of South America, from the Pacific coast to the Caribbean beaches.
Peru Lima – 1st Aug 2012
Ecuador Quito – 5th Aug 2012
Colombia Bogota – 9th Aug 2012
Venezuela Caracas – 13th Aug 2012
Guyana Georgetown – 18th Aug 2012
The Charities
As a social enterprise, we are highly committed to our charitable causes. Each year drivers vote for one of three chosen charities to receive funds they’ve raised for the rally. 2012 nominees are Incawasi, a Peruvian charity trying to break the cycle of family poverty; EveryChild, working to prevent children from growing up vulnerable and alone; and Survival International, campaigning for tribal people’s rights worldwide. All three charities operate in countries along our route.
Requirements
We love the roads less traveled, the local communities and the foreign cultures. We seek the unexpected, the challenges and the victories. We do all this to challenge ourselves and help others.
Here at the Inca Rally, we get a kick out of hurtling ourselves headfirst into the unknown armed with just a questionable overconfidence in our ability to be resourceful enough to get out of any sticky situations. So that is what we are about. Shaking the safe monotony of daily life and plunging straight into adventurous randomness.
Are you up for the challenge? You can find out more information on the Inca Rally official website. Sign up as an individual and join an existing team, or rally your friends together and fundraise for a team of your own.
Former graphic designer turned adventurer and motivational speaker, Dave became disenchanted with work and, having recently taken up longboarding, decided to set out on an adventure. One year later, Dave skateboarded his way from Perth to Brisbane–yes, across the entire continent of Australia–received his first world record and book deal and never looked back.
Since then, Dave has paddled 2 of the world’s longest rivers from source to sea, crossed England (and Lake Geneva) by Stand Up Paddleboard, broken a world speed record on a human-powered hydrofoil — I could go on. The man is righteously adventurous.
I’m thrilled and humbled that Dave took the time out of his schedule to chat with us here at Nerve Rush HQ. We asked him a few questions about his Expedition1000 project, particularly his August 2012 plan to swim 1,000 miles of the lower Missouri River.
1,000 miles – wow! But we have to ask, why the Missouri River?
Until recently I wasn’t interested in doing a swim because I didn’t think I’d see anything, but then slowly I realised I would have a view, just a different one (two inches above the water!). Despite appearances, I’m not totally crazy, so I decided to swim downstream on a river with a decent current, and the Missouri fit the bill.
How long will it take? What do your logistics look like?
I’m not after any records on this one, it’s simply a personal challenge for someone who doesn’t swim so much to see how it feels to be in the water for so long. It’ll take 50 days, 20 miles a day between Yankton, SD and St Louis, MO. I’ll be dragging my own gear on a raft but will also have a team on the water around me. I love trickling down my experience to others so am assembling a team to do everything from still photography to safety kayak, all of them will be paddling the full 1000 miles on canoes, kayaks and SUP. If anyone would like to join the team here’s the link:
Hah! Well, now you ask…. I can’t remember the last time I swam more than 50 metres. I’ve just sailed across the Pacific and didn’t even touch the water. And I’m about to cycle a 4-wheeled bike from Miami to Memphis. I’ll do about a month of basic swimming, but nothing can prepare you for an expedition like the expedition itself. So I’ll take it easy the first couple of weeks and build up my strength. Besides, I figure I’ll be a brilliant swimmer by the end of the trip!
Now, this swim is a part of a larger project you’re working on called Expedition1000. Can you tell us about that?
Sure. If you want to call this a career, my goal is to undertake 25 separate journeys, each at least 1000 miles in distance and each using a different form of non-motorised transport. Along the way I’m encouraging people to get off their butts, to combine sport and travel to stay healthy and get in touch with nature a little more. I’ve not met anyone who spends time outdoors and keeps fit that hasn’t seemed pretty much at peace with themselves, so I figure the more people who do it the better. I’m also aiming to raise £1 million for charity, including the breast cancer awareness organisation CoppaFeel. Great cause, it’s all about giving ourselves as much life as possible.
You’re up to some crazy stuff. Where can our readers follow along with your adventures?
We always say the favorite part of running an adventure site is the people we get to talk to. Today is no different. As soon as we found out about the GORUCK Challenge, we tracked down the people in charge of this massive gut-check adventure and told them we needed to talk. We got in touch in with Lead Cadre, Lou Lepsch – the ex-special ops agent in charge of this ridiculously awesome event, and in true Nerve Rush fashion, we bombarded him with questions.
Lead Cadre & Ex-Special Ops Agent Lou Lepsch
Also, as a bonus, at the end – we’ve got something awesome to give away, so you’ll want to check that out. But before we get to that, here’s a little bit more about the GORUCK Challenge from Lou himself.
Thanks for talking with us Lou! Can you tell us a little bit about the GORUCK Challenge? How did you get involved?
Simply put, the GORUCK Challenge is 12-14 hours of simulated Special Operations selection processes. Participants cover about 20 miles wearing GORUCK gear filled with bricks (meant to simulate kit -i.e. ammo.) They are led by a GORUCK Cadre with a Special Operations background. The Cadre poses problems to the group, thus turning 30 individuals into a team over the course of the Challenge. Longer story, the GORUCK Challenge is a gut check – a test of one’s intestinal fortitude. It’s a slice of Special Operations training that gets your foot in the door.
I got involved after a night of pool water with Jason when he visited me at Fort Bragg. He briefed me on the CONOP (Concept of Operations), and I thought it was awesome. We sat around drinking pool water while Java (GORUCK dog) tore up cases of Bud Heavy, and I was hooked. Jason and I worked together in the Special Forces Q-Course, and the opportunity to work with him again was a no brainer.
How does being a Cadre fit into the race logistics? You lead classes?
First thing the Cadre does is a boots on the ground reconnaissance of the ground and some target analysis – working out potential missions for the participants. We get a route from HQ a few days before, but the Cadre needs to spend a good four hours minimum – sometimes longer – to work out how that route will play out in real life.
During the challenge, the Cadre poses scenarios to the team, events to test not only the individual but the team. The Cadre’s main job is to bring those individuals together as a team and form friendships for life. They just experienced something life changing and definitely not a 5K, and the bonds last a lifetime.
And you have a background in Special Ops? Whoa. Could you, ahem, elaborate?
No.
What separates the GORUCK Challenge from the many other adventure, obstacle and endurance races out there?
The team, the city, and the Cadre. Much like Special Operations training that the Cadre all went through, you never know what to expect. You’ve got to focus on the task at hand – while also focusing on the bigger picture. The bigger picture is the team. Our events are in cities, and the route is designed to be a guided tour – a shopping tour with many coupons along the way.
The city provides those real life problems for the team to solve. It’s not as if we are renting out a ski resort and putting logs there for people to carry from this cone to that cone. The Cadre separate us – you’ve got that legitimacy, but it also makes it a more personal event. It’s one Cadre with thirty people, and you really get to know each other. They always hate the Cadre at first, but by the end they love us. In the end, we want every single person to walk away knowing they accomplished something.
What training regimen would you recommend for a GORUCK participant expect?
It doesn’t matter, because you’re still going to be sore. But I would recommend a CrossFit regimen with some minor distance running for cardio. But in the end, it’s 90% mental. Don’t take it so seriously. Partake in some ACRT (Advanced Cellular Repair Technology, aka beer) like we all do.
Where can we learn more about the GORUCK Challenge?
Visit GORUCKChallenge.com and also check out @GORUCKChallenge on Twitter. The Cadre all tweet during the event, and we get a lot of suggestions from people following the challenge at home. It’s like watching GORUCK TV in real time!
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Huge thanks to Lou and the GORUCK Challenge team for taking the time to speak with us. After this interview, I was so excited about GoRuck, I just had to do it. So I’m signed up for the first GoRuck Challenge as soon as I get back to the states.
Now for the cool part: If you want to give GORUCK Challenge a shot for yourself, we’ve got a free entry pass to any of the GORUCK Challenges across the country (sorry international guys, GORUCK hasn’t quite made it across the pond yet). If you want to win a free pass to any GORUCK Challenge, let us know why below and our unbiased team of judges will pick our favorite as the winner.
Note From Joel: A few weeks ago, we profiled the RAAM Race – or the Race Across America – the toughest race in the world. If you’re a little rusty on what it is, here are the basics:
3,000 miles
Starts: Oceanside, CA
Ends: Annapolis, MD (alternates direction every year)
It’s a time-trial race format as opposed to a race with multiple stages. You start in Oceanside and you keep riding until the racer arrives in Annapolis, eating, sleeping and stopping when necessary.
It crosses through 12 states: CA, AZ, UT, CO, KS, MO, IL, IN, OH, WV, PA and MD.
The race is open to professional and amateur racers.
The racer has to reach Annapolis in 288 hours (12 days) or be disqualified.
On average, only 50% of those who start the race are able to finish.
The racer is supported by a crew of at least 4 – usually there are 6-10 crew members. The crew keeps the racer riding.
Not only is it an insane race that taxes you physically, but it’s an incredible feat of endurance that takes extreme mental determination as well. “What’s going on inside these riders’ heads as they pedal non-stop for 12 days?”, we wondered. Fortunately, Nerve Rush field correspondent Jason Moore tracked down RAAM Race Finisher, Geoff Brunner to get his thoughts on the race, life and everything in between. Take it away Jason.
On your website bio page you talk about riding your bike everywhere as a teen growing up in Georgia. You say that you “learned to love freedom at an early age”.
For 27 years you dreamed about riding a bike across country. After 5 of your friends tragically passed away under the age of 45 within a short span, you decided to go for it. What were your emotions like after you dipped your bike into the Atlantic Ocean and began your first cross-country ride?
I was nervous…really nervous. I had no idea of what to expect, and I felt like I was the worst father and husband in the world. I second-guessed myself for the entire first day of the trip and definitely into the second day as I spent the first night at home (100 miles west of the ocean). But I had to do it – absolutely had to do it. As far as I know, you only go around once, and I sensed this was my only chance to fulfill my dream of riding to my grandparents’ house. I just kept telling myself, this is my only chance, this is my only chance. My grandparents were in their nineties still living in the house in which I had so many fond memories, and the childhood dream was to ride to their house to see them. There was only one way to get there – spin the cranks on the bike.
Can you describe how you felt when you arrived in California by the power of your own two legs, and realized your lifelong dream?
Actually, I expected a greater emotional feeling of accomplishment. My expectations were that I’d feel some great sense of relief or joy, when in actuality, I just felt fortunate. I’d pulled it off; “Ha, Ha – take that!” I thought to myself not knowing who or what was on the receiving end of the taunt. I really expected more self satisfaction (you know like trumpets blaring, a rainbow and angels singing). What it left me with was wanting more…
After 27 years, you finally accomplished your goal. How did that first cross-country ride change your life and outlook? Did you feel more liberated?
My first trip across the country firmly embedded in me the importance of not looking into the future, thinking about what “might happen”. I’m not suggesting that planning is bad, in fact, a certain amount of planning is essential to any challenging endeavor such as a cross country journey on a bike. What I’m suggesting is that the trip gave me a confirming lesson in the need to focus on the present….one pedal revolution at a time. I’ve found that this is very necessary in most aspects of life if I want to be “free”. I’ve not perfected this process though, but I’m always practicing it because I strongly believe that the biggest deterrent to freedom is thinking about the future.
What did you learn about yourself, and this country, on that first trip across America?
I learned that I’m mentally stronger than I thought I was. It was reinforced that I love my wife and son very, very much. I confirmed that I have the most supportive parents any person could ever ask for. I realized that I am extremely fortunate, and that I can accomplish whatever I choose to do.
I learned that there are some pretty bad roads in every state which can beat up a person’s body who is riding a bike. I learned that 99.9% of drivers are courteous towards cyclists, which is a much higher percentage than driver courtesy towards other drivers. I also learned that the beauty of America can ideally be witnessed at 15 mph. Our country’s natural beauty is awe-inspiring. Finally, and MOST-IMPORTANTLY, I came to a comfortable realization, that I am insignificant. The first hint at this reality came in the middle of Kansas. Field upon fields of everything from wheat to corn to cattle to grasses. Openness everywhere. Upon first getting this feeling, I was slightly overwhelmed, and then I came to a point in the panhandle of Texas where I had arrived at the top of a gentle rise, and it seemed like the whole world opened up to me. What I saw was amazing! Perhaps it was the fatigue from 1800 miles alone on a bike, but I know that the scenery gave me a sense of security in a wide open space. Two days later, I reached Vaughn, New Mexico and I suggested to my Dad that I wanted to go out of town a few miles, because I thought the stars would look “neat”. What a casual word (neat) compared to what I saw. I had never seen the “Milky Way” defined before (at least as far as I could remember). The stars were so brilliant, and there were so many. My sense of insignificance was so strong at that point, I realized that my life was mine to live. My time was my time.
Geoff Riding Across America
It takes guts to take a risk, do something big, and follow your dreams. At some point thoughts spark action. Can you tell me about the process of turning a dream or idea into reality?
Personally, I had to patiently wait for the right time. For my initial ride across the country, I had to reach a point in my life where I truly respected the finiteness of life. My perception at the time was that riding a bike across the country is dangerous. My dream to ride my bike to my grandparents life was surrounded by the concern of death: that someone is going to be on their phone, or drinking, or pass out…and run me over. I rationalized that this could happen while riding my bike within a mile of my house. Even more so, this could happen while driving to a work appointment on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. “What a waste of a good dying!“ I clearly remember thinking: If I’m going “out“, I’d rather have it happen in pursuit of a dream than on the way to work (worker‘s compensation benefits aside, of course)! Through circumstances in my life, primarily the loss of friends from cancer and accidents, I came to the further realization that it’s going to happen sometime, and I don’t want my last thoughts to be, “I wish I would have ridden my bike to my grandparent’s house”. After overcoming my future-focused fear of what might happen, the rest all fell into place.
My only hesitation was the effect this would have on my wife and son. Alison was very supportive of me, and she helped me communicate with Quincy about what this was all about. They were a part of the trip over the first few days and they arrived at LAX 10 minutes before my bike and I reached the end of the runway, so they were able to join me in Redondo Beach for the Pacific dipping!
We all have fears surrounding our decisions. How did you overcome your fears?
As mentioned above, the fear of death was the biggest challenge to overcome. Death of people I know well, for me, tended to alleviate this to a level necessary to go ahead with the trip.
Did you ever get lost, logistically speaking?
I had no GPS, and I only had a basic cell phone. I took maps with me and asked directions along the way. I’d stop often to ask people if I was headed in the right direction to reach a particular town, and in each case, the one I asked was more than willing to help, and several times, I ended up getting into a good conversation. On occasion, I ended up adding a few miles to a particular day through some miscues.
Ok, let’s get to this insane race. Riding your bike cross-country is an incredible feat on it’s own. But racing across country and trying to do it in 12 days or less, that’s just nuts man!
The Race Across America is known as “The World’s Toughest Bike Race.” When did you first hear about it and what on earth made you decide to take this long distance bike riding to the next level?
As I hinted at before, my first trip across the country left me wanting more. As I told my mother-in-law, “After the first time I kissed a girl, I didn’t think, ‘That was nice, and once was enough.’” Luckily, I have an a cool mother-in-law.
Practically speaking, I’m not in a position to take off 4 weeks from work. I don’t feel comfortable asking for it, and I’m not sure whether I’d be granted the request again, and frankly, I’d get too far behind. In addition to a cool mother-in-law, I have a cool manager. Given my time realities, the only way I could ride across the country again is if I had increased support and could do it in less time. The Race Across America provides the venue to accomplish this. I had heard about RAAM several years ago after it first got started, but I hadn’t thought about it until someone mentioned it after I rode across the country the first time. I wondered how far I could go, so I entered a 200 mile race in 2010 and finished 2nd despite cramping up badly after 80 miles and suffering the rest of the way. I figured that I’d take the next step by entering a RAAM qualifier a few months later and again finished second in the 544 mile race, and I qualified for RAAM. What the heck, if I could make it in 27 days with minimal support, I could make it in about half the time if someone is feeding me….this was my rationale!?!? Alison gave me a concerned nudge to go for it, and I entered the 2011 race. Additionally, I wanted to ride to raise money for a charity again. In 2009, when I rode across the country, I rode to raise money for the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia’s Neonatal Research Department. They played a role in the greatest joy in my life, the birth of my son. In 2011, I raised money for Dream Come True, a charity here in the Lehigh Valley in Pennsylvania, which supports chronically, terminally and seriously ill children’s dreams. This was right in line with my achievement of my childhood dream to ride to my grandparent’s house. This provided added motivation for me as I raced in RAAM in 2011. Every child deserves to realize their dreams – as I mentioned before, I’m extremely lucky to have realized mine.
This race is unlike any other. The clock runs continuously and there are no stages (no set amount of distance you need to ride per day). This means you can push yourself well beyond your rational limits. What keeps you going when you want to stop?
This race is the ultimate test of freedom of choice, in my opinion. The racer can stop at any time. If he or she doesn’t ride at least 250 miles every 24 hours, they won’t make the various cut-offs along the way. Depending on the racer’s ability, training and desire this may or may not be challenging. There were two times when I was ready to quit – once in the desert and once late in the race in the mountains . My brother, the support team’s crew chief, kept talking me into getting back onto the bike. The fatigue is significant, and the voluntary nature of the self-abuse makes it very tempting to call it quits at times. The physical aspect is challenging, and when coupled with the total of 28 hours of sleep over 12 days, makes it that much more difficult. 110 degree temperatures in the California desert followed by 30 degree temperatures 36 hours later in Colorado at up to 11,000 feet in altitude plays havoc with the lungs. 55 mph headwind gusts on the edge of a thunderstorm in the Colorado prairie made me feel like I was pulling a truck. Relentless 100-300 feet climbs over and over in Missouri, Indiana and Ohio prevent any sort of cycling rhythm. The course ends with several hundreds of miles of steep climbs in the Appalachians of West Virginia, western Maryland and Pennsylvania. Then there’s the final 150 miles of heavy traffic in the East as Annapolis nears. Many claim the Race Across America to be the greatest human powered challenge on the earth. I don’t know about that – but what I do know, is that I can quit at any time, and that’s what makes it so appealing to me.
Last year was your first RAAM (is that correct?). What did you learn from that experience that will help you perform better this year?
Last year, our team went into RAAM like three blind mice. My crew was comprised of family members and the massage therapist who had worked with me for the past year. My father and my brother were the crew chiefs because they had the experience of helping me in the qualifier. Everyone else was relatively green. RAAM is as much about getting to the starting line in one piece as it is executing the race. The organization and preparation is severe, and I essentially organized the event on my own prior to arriving in Oceanside, California. Once there, the crew selflessly took over. No one knew what to do, but we figured it out both before and during the race. We were one of the few teams without an RV, so the crew and I had to sleep in motel rooms along the way. This is more comfortable, but not efficient and cost us time. Many circumstances along the way caused some challenges which we should be able to overcome this year. I came up with 15 ways to race faster in 2012 and feel confident that I can break 11 days and challenge the 10 day barrier if everything falls into place. Since 1982, only a few more than 200 racers from around the world have completed the race in the required time of 12 days for men and 13 days for women and men over 60. Significantly fewer can claim breaking the 10 day barrier on the modern course, riding 300 miles per day.
This isn’t a blog about training/fitness but I am curious about your preparation for something like this. A lot of endurance athletes are very meticulous and scientific when it comes to their training. Do you fall into this camp? Can you tell me a little bit about your training regimen?
I’ve always done things by feel more so than by design. I believe experience is the best teacher, so I search for what works and then try to tweak it. In preparation for the 2011 race I rode 8,850 miles from November through May. For the period from November though January, I develop an endurance base through completing at least one weekly 100 mile ride, and I try to ride another 100 miles during the week. In February and March, I increase my weekly long ride to 125-150 miles. This helps prepare the body for the April and May peak training period in which I include weekly interval and hill work and increase the long rides into the 200-250 mile range with several back to back 200-250 mile rides on weekends in May. I only use a heart rate monitor when I’m doing speed work and during the first two days of the race itself. I’m not a big data guy, and focus primarily on how I feel, pushing myself as much as I can without getting injured.
Tell me about your team, and the support they provide. I love that your Mom and Dad are a part of the team and with you the whole way. What does your team mean to you?
Wonderful, Amazing and many other superlatives describe the crew. They were low on sleep last year, in part due to inexperience, but towards the middle and end of the race they started to get into a rhythm. At the risk of sounding cliché, I would not have made it without them. I have at least one instance for each of them, where they said or did something that inspired me or kept me going confidently. Most are back next year, because we’re all very competitive at heart, we’ve all got a somewhat nomadic past, and we know we can do better. My mom and dad helped me across the country the first time and were so helpful in their support. Alison, Quincy and my mother-in-law, Carol, joined me for days 3 through 5 of the journey.
Geoff, your story is inspiring. How can we support you? (include links to any resources where people can donate, or whatever other resources you have)
Our team’s website has information about sponsorship of the team effort through Glory Hog which is one of my lead sponsors. Various sponsorship levels are available if a business or individual is interested in partnering with us to gain exposure. In 2012, I am continuing my fundraising effort for the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. There will be a link on the website to my fundraising page for the hospital.
Can you share any helpful resources you have for somebody who dreams of riding a bike across the country, but isn’t sure where to begin?
As with many topics the internet has a wealth of information about pursuing such an endeavor. One can google to their heart’s content and read about many people who have completed the journey and gain tips on long distance bicycle riding. I’m a member of the Pennsylvania Randonneurs group which supports long distance riding, and a local Randonneur group is a great place to start connecting with others who like endurance cycling.
Lastly, your Dad is a homebrewer, will he have a cold one waiting for you at the finish line?
He’s been brewing for some time now and has become particularly good at it. It would be a nice treat to top off another finish in 2012! Both he and my mom shared some great experiences with me on my first trip – it made it that much more special.
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Major thanks to Jason & Geoff for sharing this with us. If you know of someone participating in some gut-wrenching adventure, send us a note – hq@nerverush.com – we can’t get enough of this stuff!
Have you ever visited a restaurant serving the “worlds best burger”, an ice cream shop with the “world’s best milkshake” or a beachside stand claiming the “worlds best fish tacos”?
The whole world title thing is a bit overused. Usually the burgers are dry, the shakes aren’t creamy, and the fish tacos are, well, fish tacos. It’s just a bunch of marketing nonsense.
RAAM is known as The World’s Toughest Bike Race.
In this case it’s not an overhyped claim.
It’s a fact.
It all began in 1982 when four people got together at the Santa Monica Pier on the pacific coast near LA, mounted their two-wheelers, and started racing. The finish line was a little bit further down the road, at the Empire State Building in New York City.
The Race Across America (RAAM) was born.
Worldwide attention is not surprising, due to the sheer insanity of the undertaking, and what these athletes must accomplish to earn the title of “RAAM Finisher.”
Riders have a maximum of 12 days to ride 3000 miles from Oceanside, CA to Annapolis, MD. It’s an epic coast-to-coast battle of endurance, focus, and sheer will.
If you are quick at math you may have figured out that a rider must average around 250-300 miles a day to finish in the allotted timeframe. Try doing that in one day, let alone 10 or 12 in a row.
But that’s not all.
This race has no stages, unlike the Tour de France for example. At the start line the clock begins, and it never stops. It keeps on ticking until the athlete gets to the east coast. RAAM is 30% longer than the Tour de France and must be finished in roughly half the time, with zero rest days.
But when are they supposed to sleep you ask? Um yeah, apparently there isn’t much slumbering going on.
Frontrunners sleep as little as 90 minutes a day. To even have a chance of finishing in 12 days a solo racer can’t sleep for more than 4 hours a day.
In the process they will climb some 170,000 vertical feet, while battling the elements as well as their own physical and mental fatigue.
Grueling. Gutsy. Insane.
There are a total of four race categories: Solo, 2-person, 4-person, and 8-person. Within those are subsets broken down by gender, age, and type of bike used.
The teams are run like a relay. While one team member is racing the others are catching a snooze.
Solo riders don’t have this option.
Both solo and team riders operate with a mandatory crew, typically consisting of 8-12 people in 2-4 chase vehicles. Crews are responsible for supporting the racer with any and all logistical pieces including food, bike repair, clothing, and other needs. Perhaps most importantly they cheer their rider on, making sure to keep spirits high, and the pedals cranking.
This allows the rider to focus on one thing only, the race.
And what a mental battle it must be. Simply staying up with little sleep for nearly two weeks is enough to push somebody over the edge. When you add in extreme physical activity and outside forces like desert heat, mountain passes, rain, wind, traffic, and treacherous roads, it becomes clear why this race is so incredibly challenging.
Then there is the looming idea of throwing in the towel, cutting your losses, quitting.
When you push yourself so hard, for so long, with no sleep, this will enter an athlete’s psyche. It’s another very real obstacle to overcome.
Like all athletes, racers have their own personal reasons to take on such a daunting task. Many individuals raise money for a cause adding the side benefit of helping out others in the process. Millions have been donated to charities as a result of RAAM.
Taking a cross continent bike ride is on many a bucket list. Racing across country is an entirely different animal, especially given these intense parameters.
Here at Nerve Rush HQ, we are lucky to have such cool friends. Close amigo, Natalie Sisson, is going to be biking across Africa on the famed Tour d’ Afrique bike race. When we found out she was racing the Tour d’ Afrique and racing almost 6,500km of the race on her bike, we knew we had to have her on the site. I decided to jump in and find out more about Natalie and the race specifically.
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What’s your cycling background Natalie?
I’d like to say it’s my favourite past time, but I’m more of a commuter cyclist, having braved the streets of London, England with a daily 40 minute commute one way, and then again in Vancouver. Canada. I’ve done a few sprint triathlons in the past and the cycle leg of one full triathlon, but nothing quite like this next adventure.
Just under 6,500km on a bike! Can you shine some light into your thoughts behind starting such a massive adventure?
It started with a conversation with a Canadian traveler on a slow bloat through Laos. When you have 8 hours to kill you can cover a lot of ground. We got to talking about this crazy bike tour that goes the length of Africa, from Cairo to Capetown. I was intrigued. I looked it up online and read the details of what was involved. I set myself a goal to do that ride one day.
One day happened to come five years later when I paid my deposit in early 2011 and committed to doing it in 2012. Once I commit to something it’s very rare that I don’t follow through on it. I also like to set myself personal challenges. It started in 2004 when I trained my ass off for 9 months to compete in a body sculpting competition… and won the regional title.
Then in 2007 I broke a world record by dragon boating across the English Channel with the Sisterhood. It felt Iike I was due my next challenge. This one seemed appropriate.
How are you preparing for this incredible adventure?
To be honest, not as well as I should have. In 2011 when I returned home to New Zealand for the first time in 5.5 years I got on a road bike and started training with my sister for a few events. The first was a 48km race, followed by a killer 100km race with some nasty hills.
This was all in the lead up to the Lake Taupo Cycle Challenge. This 160km race around the lake the size of Singapore, saw us in the saddle for over 7 hours. To me that was the best test of whether I could do that kind of distance. When I get to Africa we will ride between 100-180km 5-6 days in a row with just one day off.
Since that road race I’ve been travelling and running my business from the road and it’s really been hard to try and train under those circumstances. You actually need to base yourself somewhere to have access to your bike to ride daily and know routes to take. So I have been keeping fit playing Ultimate Frisbee, running and hitting the gym, but I really need to notch up some serious time in the saddle in these last 6 weeks!
I’ll do that by getting on my new bike I’ve bought or this epic adventure, and start cycling daily, as well as clocking up some longer 3-4 hour rides on the weekends, and building to a few days of riding in a row to get used to how my ass will feel.
Even with all those plans, there’s bound to be some things that come up. What are you most afraid of as you get ready for this race?
I have to say this one excites me and daunts me at the same time, I spoke to a guy who completed the whole trip last year, and he got typhoid from eating lettuce. He got so sick the organziers dropped him off at a hospital and told him to make his own way to Capetown. That part scares me a little. Being left to fend for yourself in a continent I’ve not yet travelled to. From the stories I’ve heard, it’s not one you want to be alone in, especially as a woman.
I guess the mental endurance is something I’m looking forward to testing out. I think I’m pretty tough from years of playing competitive sports, but this is something entirely different. Cycling up to 8 hours a day, pitching your tent, fuelling up on food, and then getting up to do it all again the next day, for 2 whole months is not for everyone.
I also had a friend send me this video clip from YouTube of a rider getting taken out by an antelope during a mountain biking race, I’m kind of hoping that won’t happen to me. Finally I’m adding pressure by attempting to raise $10,000 for Women Win and setting up my business to run without me for two months. That doesn’t scare me but it’s a whole other beast in itself from a preparation perspective.
This isn’t a short trip. You’ll be gone for quite a while. How are you funding all of this?
It is the most expensive trip I have undertaken in my life. The cost of the tour being the main expense at just over US$8,000. All up I’ve estimated it costing around US$15,000.
I am so lucky to have some fantastic sponsors who I approached, and who believed in what I was doing, I broke down my trip costs and they chose to sponsor a segment like bike parts, camping equipment, immunizations. So big ups to Chrometa, MeetingBurner, Unbounce, Six Figure Start and Kaleidoscope Marketing.
KP Athletic Wear stepped up to sponsor me with her own clothing line and GoPro sent me their awesome new Hero 2 HD camera plus bike and helmet mounts for free so I can capture the whole epic journey on video!
The rest I’m self funding as it was my personal challenge. My online business success over at the Suitcase Entrepreneur is picking up the tab :).
You’re doing this all for a purpose, right? Tell us about the cause you’re doing this for.
Yes I totally am. As a woman who’s played all sorts of sports since I was a kid, I can’t credit the impact playing them has had on my sense of worth, confidence, and naturally my mental and physical abilities. Playing an individual sport or being part of a team has taught me so much in life and in business.
So when I found out that an organization existed that was giving girls and women confidence and better rights through sport I had to check them out. Women Winisa leading global organization with a mission is to empower girls and women to achieve their rights through sport. Their vision is:
“a world where women and girls are strong leaders and agents of change in their communities.”
I’m doing a whole social media campaign and outreach in order to get maximum exposure for them and to raise $10,000 in donations. This amount could make a huge amount of impact for them. For example, here’s what the following donations can help with:
Amount Project
€ 10 A football for a girls sport team
€ 25 A sports uniform for 1 girl
€ 50 Monthly allowance for a girl leader training/ coaching girls
€ 100 1-year enrollment in a sports program for a girl
€ 200 Life skills workshop for 30 girls
€ 500 Tournament for raising awareness on GBV in a community
Where can Nerve Rush readers follow along with your journey? Anything else we should know?
I’d love for you to come visit the ride of my life on my blog. All the details are there, a fun video too and ways in which you can get involved.
In fact you can support my journey by buying a Human Powered Awesome t-shirt of which half the profits go to Women Win, or donate or simply spread the word!
Also come say hi on Twitter @nataliesisson and Facebook.
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We’re pretty lucky here at Nerve Rush to run into so many people doing so many amazing things. If you know someone participating in some gut-wrenching adventure, send an email to hq@nerverush.com and let us know!
Let’s talk obstacle race training. How did you prepare for the Warrior Dash?
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32-year old Dave Cornthwaite is downright cool.
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