On the Precipice: Rebecca's Tough Mudder (GUEST POST)

My heart pounded in my ears as I looked at the bar a seemingly unfathomable distance away.  I was standing at the top of the rise of the King of Swingers, one of the obstacles I have been dreading the most in the Tough Mudder. I have a HUGE fear of heights, and now I was 12 feet off the ground looking at a foot-wide bar I was supposed to leap out and grab.  It took me a couple of tries, but I sprung out over the abyss......

Hanging/Pull-up Practice

When my hands made contact with the bar, and I felt my solid grip carrying me smoothly through the air, I let loose a rebellious cry that lasted the whole swing.  Even more terrifying was the drop after I let go: I closed my eyes and waited to hit the water.  It felt like forever and I became afraid the water wasn't there: someone had moved it, I was about to hit the ground, I was falling through outer space.

The shock of hitting the water was electrifying, and I suddenly remembered my body and started swimming for the surface.  As I broke through another scream ripped through the air, and language came back to me.  "I can't believe I f**king did that!" was my mantra as I swam for the rope netting to escape.

For me, this was the core of the Tough Mudder experience.  Overcoming my fears, challenging myself when I thought I couldn't do any more, and pushing myself to do as much as I could.  This was not the messiest obstacle, but the ones like it requiring upper body strength were the ones I was most challenged by and made me feel the most powerful when I completed them.

There were many other obstacles, such as the Liberator, where you are climbing a wall with pegs in your hands and notches under your feet, or the affectionately names Balls to the Wall, climbing a wall using a knotted rope, where the amazement at reaching the top was immediately replaced by the anxiety of how to get over and back down again.  The pride and accomplishment once again took over as soon as my determination brought my feet back down to the ground.

A great thing about the Tough Mudder was the sense of camaraderie on the course.  The inspirational speech at the beginning included talk that everyone would be your teammate by the end, and it was very true. Without my teammate Mirna and so many other helpful people on the course, I would not have accomplished half as much.  Strong arms hoisted me over the lip of Everest on my second attempt, I conquered the Pyramid by using someone else's shoulders as a ladder rung, and even Balls to the Wall had a volunteer scrambling (with ease) up the back side to talk me through getting over the top. When I thanked the helpers for their assistance, the reply was, "you got over it because you wanted to."

Wind-sprints practice--up Mirna's driveway hill

The combination of training and teamwork was really amazing.  Mirna and I had been weightlifting and doing various forms of prep since February.  It all came together as I reached for waiting slimy hands to grab to get out of mud pits, but then amazing the same men ready to hoist me out as I set a foot as solidly as possible in the muck and set leg and arm strength in motion to get myself out, with their leverage being the final push.  Each time I felt that much more powerful. Helping others was wonderful as well, knowing my training could help pull someone else up the Pyramid after I had been hoisted to the top, and I was part of the team assisting others to success.

As we ran from obstacle to obstacle, Mirna and I lost all sense of time, living in the moment.  We reflected on what went well, what we would need to work on for our next attempt, and just the beauty of the landscape around us.  We met some that were concerned with their time, some who were painting designs on themselves and their clothes, some who danced or flapped like birds as they traveled, and some who ran Everest multiple times for the thrill, the fun, or to help someone out.

Finished!

For those who say, "That's crazy! Why on earth would you want to do that?" (especially running through live wires at the end), my answer is this: There are few times I have felt more alive, at peace, and in touch with the amazing things my body can do.  Throughout my life I have struggled with weight fluctuations, body image issues, and overall negativity and self doubt.  The Tough Mudder this weekend, and all the prep that went into it, have brought me a long way on my journey of empowerment and taking control of my life.  I am so proud of all I accomplished, and can't wait to challenge myself again. I want the victory cry as I emerged from the water pit, and the bellow I let loose as I picked myself out of the mud after passing the last 10,000 volt wire, to be the sound my life makes moving forward.

Follow Rebecca on Instagram!

Not the Queen of The Swingers: Tough Mudder Part 2

I got on the ground, assumed a rolling position to protect the ladies,2 and gingerly but ungracefully made my way across the fifteen yards or so of the obstacle. That was easy.

I realized that as long as I didn’t freak out and as long as I didn’t make any stupid jerky movements I would be ok. This sentiment along having successfully hurled my heavy body over the unexpected baby wall at the beginning would set the stage for the entire event.  The obstacles may have been scary or overwhelming to look at, but when I acknowledged my fear, shook its hand and pushed it away, I was mostly able to accomplish whatever task awaited.

There were just about twenty obstacles on the course, and each section it seemed was progressively more difficult and less single-athlete-friendly (although there are a bunch of folks who are absolute superstars at OWNING the obstacles, many of us would require help.. Many would require teamwork to get over, under, or through them).

I won’t bore you with the details of each obstacle, though NONE of the them were boring. In fact, every obstacle had a different challenge. Most were physical, but there were certainly some in which you had to engage your brain, letting go of whatever self-doubts were holding you back, and then use your physicality to succeed.

Out of 20 obstacles, I managed to completely skip only two obstacles; I was not able to complete four of them, but I tried earnestly to do so and will keep trying until I am able to master each and every one of them. 

NOT The Queen of the Swingers: The one obstacle that gave me nightmares....

What I had been most afraid of was the King of the Swingers. I have no problems with height. I also have no problem with swimming. But jumping off a 12 foot high platform with murky water at the bottom and having to simultaneously grab onto a swing seemed impossible, and well…scary. I’ve NEVER dived off of anything. I love swimming. I adore water. Heck, I’m always the one they had to force out of the water during family trips to Rockaway Beach in NY. I love water that much. And heights? We’re best friends. I love being on top of a cliff, or or knob or ledge leaning over, looking death straight in its eyes. But something about the combination of the two gave me very vivid, anxiety dreams leading up to when I was actually standing on the platform waiting my turn. Is there a logic statement that makes sense for this? If p and q then z? If q then not p then r but not r or p then k? I dunno.

One woman approached the ledge, took a few breaths and decided not to do it. I can’t do this, I just can’t. Her team tried desperately to encourage her, gently but insistently. She declined their valiant efforts.

Would that me, I asked myself? Will that be me too? Highly possible.

When fear and anxiety take over, I morph into this quiet, laser-focused, person.  

It was my turn. I thought about letting the guy manning the obstacle at the top keep counting the others in until I was ready. But then he said, possibly sensing my incredible angst, look at the swing, don’t look down, and jump. Your instinct will take over.

I bent my knees a little and tamped down the rest of any errant fears that remained. I jumped. I don’t remember being in the air or hitting the water, but I do recall vividly being underwater for a few seconds, wondering if I was dying, then forcing myself to relax completely.

I didn’t know which way was up, but hoped that my body would know which way to float. Eventually, I broke the surface of the water and doggie-paddled tentatively as my heart rate slowed down, and then freestyled it over to the other side. I coughed, having swallowed some water, but I was not dead. I did not die.

That Escalated Quickly: Tough Mudder ATL Part 1

Morning preparations for the the BIG DAY at the hotel. I ended up not using the hydration pack or the Tailwind. 

After arriving at Mudder Village, a bustling but temporary town of crazy folk, some of whom where inexplicably dirty and zombie-like, Rebecca and I signed in, handed in our death waivers, and picked up our permission-to-imbibe wristbands, we settled in for a bit at the Merrell tent and chatted with shoe and product geniuses Eric and Jon. Nervous energy coursed through our entire bodies. Neither Rebecca nor I could believe that we were actually there, about to begin what had seemed impossible and highly loony just a few months ago. 

Before we set out for the warm-up zone to hang with Coach T. Mud, we caught up with Melissa from Tough Mudder Headquarters (TMHQ) for some live streaming. Catch me and Rebecca from 2:52-8:24



After our live streaming we headed over to Coach T. Mud's warm up zone, where he energetically took us through some dynamic stretches and movements including butt kicks, arm circles,  his signature HIP GYRATIONS, for, um flexibility.  

And then we moved on to the start area, ever so close to dying (or so I thought).

Well, that escalated quickly, like LITERALLY.

This was the first thought in my head was this after we had finished listening to the gorgeous tall, dark, and handsome solider deliver his pre-Tough-Mudder-experience motivational words of wisdom in an authoritative but soothing baritone to this squirming and excitable group of adults. We were of all sizes and shades, in all manner of athletic attire--and after standing up, putting our trembling hands over our hearts, saluting the American flag and singing the Star-Spangled Banner in a key that was too low but too high, we were off!

Driving into Mudder Village

The first not-even-official obstacle required hurling oneself over a wall. I panicked for a few seconds until my training buddy and only other team member, Rebecca, pointed out that there was a shorter wall, with pegs nailed into it to facilitate climbing. 

WHEW. Oh, I got this.

I climbed over the wall, which stood about 6 feet high, and promptly fell, body-slamming heavily into the (thankfully) deep bed of wood-chips on the other side. I popped up immediately. 

All clean and nice-smelling beforehand

I'm okay. I'm okay! 

Then Rebecca and I were off for real.

We quickly entered the forest on the property of Bouckaert Farms, a fancy horseback-riding outfit with stalls cleaner than any room in my house.  We decided to keep an easy pace, even though we were experienced long-distance runners with many hundreds of miles on our legs. We expected the obstacles to eventually tire us out and sowanted to make sure we had enough left in the tank for those that would require not only mental energy, but huge bursts of physical strength. 

The weather was perfect--the day was sunny and stunning. This property, in the midst of one of the more beautiful areas in Fulton County, was well maintained and groomed, with just the right amount of horse-farm whimsy to keep us on our toes. The trails were pristine, well-trodden, and surrounded by trees in the throes of mid-spring renaissance. We ran and hiked up hills for about a mile until we reached our first official obstacle.

I decided at this point that there was no way in hell I would try to remain unsullied by the mud, because I knew that if there was one thing to worry about, it wasn’t getting dirty. I’m used to dirt, mud, falling, slipping, and losing my balance multiple times during trail races—so this was not new to me (and besides I had already had my first fall). What was new, however, was having to travel under a low-lying sheet of barbed wire that left very little room for mistakes. And when was the last time I’d had a tetanus shot? Hmmm—don’t remember. Don’t mess this one up, Mirna. Don't fucking mess up.

I GOT COACHIFIED!

The next few posts will be about TOUGH MUDDER!!!! I finished my first TM in Atlanta last weekend and I'm so stoked to be part of the Tough Mudder Legion. Can't wait for my next one!

This whole Tough Mudder business began in Mid February when I was asked by the folks at Merrell if I had any interest in doing one. I said "Yeah, sure" faster than my brain could stop the foolishness of my mouth (believe it or not, sometimes that happens...I know, right?)

 Turns out I made a pretty fantastic choice.

Hanging with Coach T Mud in Piedmont Park, Atlanta for the Tough Mudder Training event in March

A few months ago I had an enormous opportunity as a Merrell Global Ambassador to get COACHIFIED by Kyle Railton, AKA Coach T. Mud. Not only is Kyle the amazing motivator and face of Tough Mudder (what with his signature tight 80s ladies shorts, stacked TM headbands and hard-as -a-rock sculpted legs (and arms and everything else), but he is a gem of a human being who truly believes in the spirit of working steadily towards a goal, working as a team, and engaging in general badassery on a daily basis. I had a blast (albeit a DOMS blast) having him train me on already tired legs and arms for my first Tough Mudder. Here is the full length video from our Coachified session!

Stay tuned  this week for more on my spectacular experience!

RAINN RUN

This is a cause I can get behind.

Laurel crossing the finish line!

On Saturday May 21, will you consider running the virtual version of the third annual Lace Up 4 RAINN 5k? It is in support of survivors of all forms of sexual violence.  RAINN, which stands for Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network is the nation's largest anti-sexual assault organization sponsors this event as a major fundraiser for its activities, education, and action. It is listed at one of the 100 best charities in the US by Forbes Magazine.
Laurel, a survivor of sexual assault, is taking part in the event! “I run to remind myself of how strong I am and how resilient the human heart is."  You can join Lauren by registering HEREand using discount code "MIRNA" for $10 off before May 2nd! 

Khadija getting stronger and stronger everyday!

Khadijah, another survivor says “I love staying active. I find that lifting weights and running helps with my depression and anxiety."  Many survivors use running as a way to heal after trauma. You can get active yourself by registering here with discount code "MIRNA" for $10 off before May 2nd.
Hope you all will join in supporting our fellow human beings!

#mynature

Here is my first blogpost for the Merrell Ambassadors blog from the merrell.com page. This piece is important to me because it so clearly demonstrates that one's positive experiences with the outdoors during youth can be life-changing. 

My nature—

My first memorable experiences with the great outdoors were in good old, pre-hipster Brooklyn. The whole lot of us, brothers, sisters, cousins and friends on the block made a daily pilgrimage around our neighborhood in the summertime. After hopping from school to school for free lunch, and after stashing as many desserts as we could in my sister’s stroller, we would then settle in a nearby park and stay put for hours until it was time to head back home for dinner.

My cousin Eric and I would get bored after a while; there was only so much swinging and hanging from the metallic monkey bars one could do, so we usually ended up in one of the fenced off, grassy areas of the park, digging for worms and whatever other treasures we could find. Once we found peanuts and imagined we were in West Africa, where peanuts are called groundnuts. Other times we’d only find worms, trying to lay them out in straight lines on the grass, but for some reason it never worked. They’d wriggle and wriggle, and we’d laugh and laugh, rolling in the patch of grass surrounded by metal and concrete, the squeaks of rusty swings and the smell of metal, dirt, pavement and rubber assaulting our senses, filling us with life and filling our hearts.


My nature—

The summer of 1985 found me in a dark culvert, lit only by the dim headlamps that our two counselors wore as they guided twelve eight-year olds on a nighttime stream hike, our first evening at camp. For many it was their first time this far away from home, and the first time living in a place where the only sounds at night were of crickets, far away thunderstorms, and occasional peals from other campers in their bunks across the quad. I had on brand new, too-heavy-for-my-feet work boots and cotton socks, jeans, and a t-shirt, not understanding yet why I was poorly dressed for our expedition into the damp unknown.

It was terrifying. Never had I imagined that I would be walking in a stream at night somewhere deep in the forest in Upstate New York with a bunch of other Brooklyn and Queens kids I didn’t know, and counselors from places like England, Ireland, and Scotland. We screamed and shouted, slipping on the smooth rocks, trembling and scaring ourselves into thinking that Bigfoot was right behind us. We held hands, hoping that if we were tethered to each other, somehow we wouldn’t be snatched by the Boogeyman, who was most definitely waiting for us at the end of the culvert.

At the end of the hour-long hike, we chided each other for being such scaredy-cats and promised we would never, EVER do anything like this again, because what were these crazy people thinking? But the bond formed was immediate, and I would forever think of those girls and boys whose names I have long forgotten whenever I cross a stream, or whenever it is dark in the woods.



As unsettling and new as this experience was, I became fascinated by the way it made me feel. Scared but exhilarated, fearful yet somehow energized, at peace and content—happy to have lived through this seemingly insurmountable and frightening task.

My nature—

When I am hunkered down in my tent up on Mt. Mitchell resting my feet on my dirty backpack after a long day in Pisgah,

When I am climbing up a rocky trail in the Chattahoochee National Forest, slipping on always-wet rock,

When I am home in Brooklyn and catch a whiff of the playground around the corner where monkey bars are now called jungle gyms and are made of plastic and colorfully coated metal,

When I come across worms doing their work in my fledgling and poorly maintained flower garden,

When I am running down a rooty hill on the Bartram Trail, only to get stung by angry yellow jackets,

When I smell wild onions running through a grassy meadow, or thyme high up in the Sierra Nevada in Spain,

When I sit on the stoop on a summer evening in Brooklyn, listening to cars, air brakes on elevated trains, people, shouts, sirens, kids…looking up at stars blurred by city lights, life.

This, is my nature.

All the Good Things

As you may have read on my Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook page, I have been traveling quite a bit over the past few weeks and I wanted to let you know of all the goodness that has been headed my way.

I've mentioned this before in a previous blogpost, but in case you've forgotten I recently became a Skirt Sports Ambassador captain, a global ambassador for Merrell (a subsidiary of Wolverine--you know, the parent company of Sebago, Sperry, Saucony, and CHACOS OMGGGGG), and a sponsored athlete for Swiftwick.

The fifteen months or so have been a whirlwind of opportunity, from TV appearances to a few really cool speaking engagements, to making a training video with Coach T. Mud for the Merrell Tough Mudder series and actually committing to doing one which will be on May 7. I am terrified.

But look at those legs tho...

In addition to being invited to run the the Shape/More Women's Half Marathon in NYC, I was also invited to run the NYC Marathon courtesy of CEO, Michael Capiraso in November (which I'll be doing the week after my FIFTH MARINE CORPS, BIOTCHES!)...I am so fortunate.

The third week of March found me in Grand Rapids, MI hunkering down (from the freezing lake effect snow) with professional mountaineers, climbers, an adventure racer who has his own TV show, a professional runner, a photographer and adventure leader who had just arrived from an epic trip to Chamonix, France where she shot footage and pics of two other ambassadors skiing and base-jumping. Then there was yours truly--someone who has had a little bit of media exposure for being a fat long-distance runner and whose longest run to date has been a 100K.
The energy was high, the immensity of outdoors and physical talent in the "brandroom" was overwhelming. We all had our feet professionally measured, learned the ins and outs of shoe design, development, and production, met with various leaders in the outdoor field, did a focus group, shared our goals and accomplishments, and enjoyed the company of like-minded folks.  I felt both energized and intimidated by these spectacular folk whose collective wisdom and experience in nature was something to be lauded.

Three weeks ago I was invited by Evans Clothing (based in the UK) to participate in a photo shoot highlighting several inspirational curvy women. I got to hang out with Callie Thorpe, blogger at From the Corners of the Curve and newly minted plus size columnist at Marie Claire UK. Also at the shoot were Brielle Cunningham, professional model, Hayley Hasselhoff--another pro model, Nadia Aboulhosn--model and designer who graced the latest cover of Women's Running Magazine (where my other blog resides), Jessica Clemmons--lead singer of the London-based contemporary country band, Jess and the Bandits, Alessandra Garcia Lorido--pro model, and Anna Shillinglaw--former model and founder of the modeling agency, Milk Management.

Nadia Aboulhosn, Women's Running Magazine Cover Model and me (in a bathrobe....) on set

If you know me, you know the only time I wear makeup is when I'm on stage performing--which as of late has not been very often. Mary Kay and I are occasional friends, and sometimes we let Covergirl join our circle. (BY THE WAY--HAVE YOU NOTICED THAT GABBY SIDIBE IS THE NEWEST COVERGIRL?????? WTG, Covergirl for striving to be more inclusive of all sizes and shades of body!)

SOOOO, Tuesday, April 26th launches the Evans body positivity campaign, #IAMME. Be prepared for some awesome photos, cool videos, and some other media coming from a pretty forward-looking company reinventing and revamping itself. I've already seen the 30 second video and CANNOT WAIT TO POST IT. I'm so excited. It was very cool to get all dolled up and step into the circle of professional models, if only briefly. Trust me--the trails were calling, but I ain't gonna lie, that shit was fun as hell.

Here is a sneak peak at my contoured face, complete with a non-unibrow(!) by unassuming and fantastically talented Natalia Bizinha, with hair by extraordinarily fabulous Kendall Dorsey.

Wow. Just wow. Will life become any more surreal? We'll see...