Scaling Everest (2.0)

It was the third obstacle ? the Berlin Wall ? and I was, maybe, overly confident in my abilities. I had wanted to run a Tough Mudder for years and now I was doing it. Well, a half of one ? a five-mile run with 13 obstacles.

I paused for a moment at the base of the 12-foot wooden wall, surveying the structure for a way up. Nothing. The wall was as smooth as a wooden plank could be. Not a board out of place, or a structural gap that could be used as a foot hole. I gave the wall another look and noticed posts, holding the wall in place, however, was something I could climb.

I jumped onto the post and climbed as high as I could. I stretched up, grabbing ahold of the top of the wall. My hands, still wet from trudging through a mud bath a quarter of a mile before, slipped. I tried again, getting high enough that I could see over the wall to the 12-foot plummet down to the pasture ground.

My nephew, Jake, stood there, carefully watching me as I lowered myself back down beside him. ?You want a boost up?? he asked. I did, but the problem, I told him, was that I coudln?t pull myself up and over. Without a word Jake launched himself up and gingerly sat atop the wall, extending a hand out to me.

Jake has always been athletic, playing football and basketball in high school. He still plays the odd basketball game, but spends a decent amount of time in the gym maintaining a healthy lifestyle. It was one of the reasons I asked him to run with me. And because I knew he was crazy enough to want to spend a Saturday crawling through mud under barbed wire, jumping into a vat of ice water and running up a 13-foot quarterpipe wall with a curved top (which he did without any help).

But there was another, more important reason I wanted Jake to be with me on my first attempt at a Tough Mudder. His biggest muscle is his heart. He?s kind and caring and knows when to help and when to let you try it on your own. Despite all his talk of how competitive he is, and how he wanted to see how fast he could run the Mudder, he put all of that aside to make sure I checked this item off my bucket list.

I jumped onto the post again, reaching for Jake?s hand, but I couldn?t pull myself up. Even with his help. The initial adrelian rush of starting the run had dissipated and I was feeling the fatigue of wading through the mud.

?Here, I?ve got you,? a stranger said as he jogged up to the wall and gave me a boost. Between the stranger and Jake I managed to grab onto the top of the wall, tucking my arms over it and clinging to the structure. Slowly, I swung my leg over, straddling the obstacle, before descending to the other side. To the next half mile run. The next obstacle.

?This is less about ME and more about WE,? Born Barikor said at the beginning of the challenge. Barikor, the hype man for the event, said the run was not about each individual finishing the run, but all of us making it to the finish line.

That sense of camaraderie was felt at each and every obstacle. No matter the challenge there was always someone with a hand out or a boost up. A little over two hours after we had started the challenge, we crossed the finish line. We were crowned with our complimentary ?Half Tough Mudder? sweat band and an ice-cold beer was slipped into our hands. The mud spattering my arms and legs was quickly replaced with bruises, but it felt great. I had a sense of accomplishment that I?ve not felt since graduating college.

And as I begin training for my next Tough Mudder ? a full Tough Mudder ? I will try to remember that life is filled with many obstacles along the way and sometimes the only way to scale Everest is with the help of a stranger, or three because it is about ?WE.?