thedrifter
06-17-08, 06:12 AM
A Wicked Change of Pace, Courtesy of the Marine Corps
Want a Run That Will Challenge You? Try This.
By Ylan Q. Mui
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, June 17, 2008; HE03
No one ever claimed that running was a pretty sport. Sweat streams from the brow. Deerflies bite at the neck. Chafing -- well, don't even get us started on that one. Now, the Marine Corps Marathon has set out to make running downright dirty.
On Saturday at Quantico, MSM will host its first obstacle-course-style 5K race, one that will feature football-style tire drills, a faux barbed wire crawl and a mud pit that would make a hippo drool with envy. Organizers are advising participants to bring a change of clothes.
I've registered to run the race with about a dozen girlfriends, but I got a preview last week. (Registration is now closed, having reached its maximum of 700 runners, who are age 10 to older than 70. A simultaneous kids' run still had ample space at the end of last week; kids ages 5 to 12 can be signed up online or in person.)
I started sweating before we hit the first obstacle and ended up attracting dirt without even trying. Consider this my official apology to any co-workers who got a whiff of me when I returned to the office.
The race has been dubbed Run Amuck and is one of several events that MCM, which is overseen by the Marine Corps, is debuting this year to attract a broader audience. After all, running doesn't always have to mean a 26.2-mile endurance contest.
"What really would get the local running public excited?" MCM director Rick Nealis said he asked himself a year ago. A rare chance to hit the trails on the Quantico base, he decided. Plus, he added, "it seems like people want to get muddy."
Organizers said they drew inspiration from similar events across the country. Earlier this month, Camp Pendleton in California held its annual 10K Mud Run, which required racers to scale two five-foot walls with mud on both sides. The Muddy Buddy Ride & Run, slated to take place in Richmond in July, alternates cycling with running and ends in -- you guessed it -- a giant mud pit.
Bart Yasso, chief running officer at Runner's World magazine, estimated that about 150 similar races are held in the United States each year, compared with more than 14,000 traditional races. About half of all races are 5Ks.
"It just appeals to people who are looking for something different," Yasso said of the nontraditional runs.
I entered a marathon five years ago, and at some point during the five hours it took me to finish, I decided that running that far was completely unnecessary. In fact, I have rarely hit even the five-mile marker since then. But an obstacle course? I couldn't pass up the chance.
The Run Amuck course starts as an innocuous jog around the new Marine Corps race track and onto a shady nature trail. Then the first obstacle looms: About a dozen rows of hay bales block the path, and the only choice is to hurdle over them. (I lucked out during my visit: Only a few rows of bales had been set up, and some of the other obstacles hadn't yet been put fully in place.)
Next up are the tires, an agility test that requires fancy footwork worthy of Kristi Yamaguchi on "Dancing With the Stars." Or, you could cheat like MCM events manager Jim Jackson, who just ran right over them as he led me through the course.
His favorite obstacle is one he dubbed "The London Tube," which requires crawling through 20-foot pipes with water flowing through them. Jackson, who introduced himself as "the creator of this torture course," originally wanted to add a fog machine to obscure runners' vision and re-create the feel of the notoriously damp city. But he said that idea was vetoed.
"It's a little bit tamer thanks to my boss," Jackson said.
Still, plenty of heart-pounding obstacles remained. Mother Nature designed some of them, including seven hills that felt more like mini-mountains. I tackled one named Director's Hill, which has such a steep pitch that organizers added ropes for runners to ease themselves down.
After a brutal sprint up and a rocky climb down, sweat stung my eyes, red dirt stained my tank top and I could swear the deer flies had a vendetta against me. I turned to MCM operating coordinator Josh Stevens for reassurance.
"This is the worst hill, right?" I asked, trying not to pant.
"Uh, no," he responded.
Nealis and Jackson, both retired Marines, said the course brought back memories of their training drills. They tried to incorporate those elements into the race, albeit with minor adjustments, such as substituting rope for barbed wire during the crawl and eliminating the backpack and boots.
"It's gonna take a certain kind of finesse," Nealis said. "If you go out and try to run it at full running speed, I think you're going to run out of gas." After attacking the course too aggressively a few weeks ago, he said, "I gotta admit I was walking up a couple of my own hills."
The course ends with a dash through the mud pit and a cargo-net crawl to the top of the last, slippery hill. But organizers hinted there would be at least one more surprise obstacle before runners hit the finish line.
I left Quantico with a new appreciation for mud and ready to experience the full course on Saturday. I blasted the air conditioning in my car and made a mental note to tell my friends that bringing a change of clothes is no joke. Then I embarked on the second obstacle course of the day: driving Interstate 95 back to Washington.
Comments:health@washpost.com.
Ellie
Want a Run That Will Challenge You? Try This.
By Ylan Q. Mui
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, June 17, 2008; HE03
No one ever claimed that running was a pretty sport. Sweat streams from the brow. Deerflies bite at the neck. Chafing -- well, don't even get us started on that one. Now, the Marine Corps Marathon has set out to make running downright dirty.
On Saturday at Quantico, MSM will host its first obstacle-course-style 5K race, one that will feature football-style tire drills, a faux barbed wire crawl and a mud pit that would make a hippo drool with envy. Organizers are advising participants to bring a change of clothes.
I've registered to run the race with about a dozen girlfriends, but I got a preview last week. (Registration is now closed, having reached its maximum of 700 runners, who are age 10 to older than 70. A simultaneous kids' run still had ample space at the end of last week; kids ages 5 to 12 can be signed up online or in person.)
I started sweating before we hit the first obstacle and ended up attracting dirt without even trying. Consider this my official apology to any co-workers who got a whiff of me when I returned to the office.
The race has been dubbed Run Amuck and is one of several events that MCM, which is overseen by the Marine Corps, is debuting this year to attract a broader audience. After all, running doesn't always have to mean a 26.2-mile endurance contest.
"What really would get the local running public excited?" MCM director Rick Nealis said he asked himself a year ago. A rare chance to hit the trails on the Quantico base, he decided. Plus, he added, "it seems like people want to get muddy."
Organizers said they drew inspiration from similar events across the country. Earlier this month, Camp Pendleton in California held its annual 10K Mud Run, which required racers to scale two five-foot walls with mud on both sides. The Muddy Buddy Ride & Run, slated to take place in Richmond in July, alternates cycling with running and ends in -- you guessed it -- a giant mud pit.
Bart Yasso, chief running officer at Runner's World magazine, estimated that about 150 similar races are held in the United States each year, compared with more than 14,000 traditional races. About half of all races are 5Ks.
"It just appeals to people who are looking for something different," Yasso said of the nontraditional runs.
I entered a marathon five years ago, and at some point during the five hours it took me to finish, I decided that running that far was completely unnecessary. In fact, I have rarely hit even the five-mile marker since then. But an obstacle course? I couldn't pass up the chance.
The Run Amuck course starts as an innocuous jog around the new Marine Corps race track and onto a shady nature trail. Then the first obstacle looms: About a dozen rows of hay bales block the path, and the only choice is to hurdle over them. (I lucked out during my visit: Only a few rows of bales had been set up, and some of the other obstacles hadn't yet been put fully in place.)
Next up are the tires, an agility test that requires fancy footwork worthy of Kristi Yamaguchi on "Dancing With the Stars." Or, you could cheat like MCM events manager Jim Jackson, who just ran right over them as he led me through the course.
His favorite obstacle is one he dubbed "The London Tube," which requires crawling through 20-foot pipes with water flowing through them. Jackson, who introduced himself as "the creator of this torture course," originally wanted to add a fog machine to obscure runners' vision and re-create the feel of the notoriously damp city. But he said that idea was vetoed.
"It's a little bit tamer thanks to my boss," Jackson said.
Still, plenty of heart-pounding obstacles remained. Mother Nature designed some of them, including seven hills that felt more like mini-mountains. I tackled one named Director's Hill, which has such a steep pitch that organizers added ropes for runners to ease themselves down.
After a brutal sprint up and a rocky climb down, sweat stung my eyes, red dirt stained my tank top and I could swear the deer flies had a vendetta against me. I turned to MCM operating coordinator Josh Stevens for reassurance.
"This is the worst hill, right?" I asked, trying not to pant.
"Uh, no," he responded.
Nealis and Jackson, both retired Marines, said the course brought back memories of their training drills. They tried to incorporate those elements into the race, albeit with minor adjustments, such as substituting rope for barbed wire during the crawl and eliminating the backpack and boots.
"It's gonna take a certain kind of finesse," Nealis said. "If you go out and try to run it at full running speed, I think you're going to run out of gas." After attacking the course too aggressively a few weeks ago, he said, "I gotta admit I was walking up a couple of my own hills."
The course ends with a dash through the mud pit and a cargo-net crawl to the top of the last, slippery hill. But organizers hinted there would be at least one more surprise obstacle before runners hit the finish line.
I left Quantico with a new appreciation for mud and ready to experience the full course on Saturday. I blasted the air conditioning in my car and made a mental note to tell my friends that bringing a change of clothes is no joke. Then I embarked on the second obstacle course of the day: driving Interstate 95 back to Washington.
Comments:health@washpost.com.
Ellie