MISSION: I DID IT.

Tough Mudder, gone to the dogs, am I right? Thanks, you've been a great audience!!!!!

Dearest Squad: after months of training, eating protein shakes that probably have bovine growth hormone, and also sometimes not training or eating anything remotely healthy, the day had

come--the day that our bosses said

Hop to it, three members of TMHQ and a nice man who volunteered to run the course too even though it was snowy. Get on the mountain and run your little hearts out.

And so the Littlest Mudder embarked on the NorCal dry run. It was a lot of fun, and even though it was pretty hard--the hills were steep, and the oxygen was sparse--I felt pretty well prepared. I was nervous about keeping up with three guys, especially since one was an experienced marathoner, and the other two are TMHQ's resident triathlon princes, but I did alright. The volunteer who came (marathon man) completely destroyed us and made us look like babies, especially given that he is almost 25 years older than I am. But Hunter, Alex, and I kept about the same pace--and if they were doing that to be nice to me, I thank them for their kindness and their discretion.

All in all, the thing that paid off the most was the hill training--which means Shape Magazine was the sneaky hero of the day, because that's where I got the treadmill hill workout. The other things that helped a lot were the encouragement of my team and also that I didn't want to shame myself by throwing up in front of my team.

Going forward, we're hoping that all of TMHQ makes a point to do the dry run together a few days before event day. Even Ashley. Training for that starts next week--until then, I'm on vacation in DC, trying to get in as much lounging, eating, and online shopping as possible. I think I am up to this challenge--after the dry run, I know I can do anything I set my mind to.

I wish there were more oxygen here

Hunter and Nolan scale the bus. Ashley and I sit in the car. Even steven.

I am huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, except instead of being cool and a sneaky guy trying to kill some stupid pigs, I'm just a lame trying to walk three feet on the mountain.

Yesterday we set up TMHQ: Bear Valley Edition (Revenge of Bear Valley's Mom, Volume VII), and we checked out some of the obstacles. Also, we saw a bald eagle. Well, Ashley saw a bald eagle. I saw a white dot in the sky. I gotta get new contacts.

Hunter, Nolan, and I checked out the log pile.

As was to be expected, it was loggy and piley.

TMHQ Jet Setters

Oh hey, didn't see you there. Probably because I'm on an airplane!!! Technology, am I right???

The first group of Tough Mudder HQ is currently flying out to California to get things started at Bear Valley. We're flying into San Francisco and purchasing a whole bunch of supplies before we begin our week-and-a-half long Mountain Experience.

I definitely want to take runs on the mountain, and I'm excited about being able to run outside without being on cement. Hopefully there will be time for that. Ashley and I have also brought the DVD Jillian Michaels: 30 Day Shred and one of Ashley's yoga videos, so hopefully if I do get to run I won't have gotten too out of shape during our time on the mountain. Plus, I just saw this Workout Of The Day for people who are traveling: 3 rounds of 30 push ups, 30 sit ups, 30 squats, and 30 burpees. Good Lord, I loathe burpees almost as much as I hate box jumps and shellfish.

That being said, Things are still a little up in the air as to whether or not I'll be able to run in the actual event. It depends a lot on how busy things are--I may have to "work," since this is my "job."

Results are unclear.

The Bigger Mudder

Hey friends. I am sick. Ashley, also of TMHQ, and I took a little vacation to The Vegas, and it wore me out to say the least. Senior Event Planner? More like Senior Queen of the Strip, am I right? So big shout out to Alec, who is training for Tough Mudder, but refuses to friend me back on facebook, and thanks to him for filling in for me. I didn't really read this, because I'm trying to go back to sleep, but I'm sure it's cool.

Alec: The Bigger Mudder

Hi everybody. My name is Alec. I am a guy. I was asked to contribute to this blog. So let me give you a little introduction to give you a better idea of who I am, why I am writing for this blog, why I'm training for Tough Mudder, and why you should too.

First things first: why am I writing for this blog?

Through various applications to Tough Mudder events, Sophie came across this picture of me:

Now, I know Sophie will deny this to the bitter end, and I'd be surprised if she even posted this, but when she saw that picture of me, she basically fell head over heals in love me. I mean she had just got off the phone with the wedding planner when she emailed me back, "loved your stash, would you be interested in writing for The Littlest Mudder blog?" I knew what she was actually thinking, "loved your stash… loved your hair, your facial hair, YOUR CHEST HAIR! OMG MARRY ME I LOVE YOU," but she played it cool. Bravo.

So if I am going to be writing for The Littlest Mudder, giving you tips and ideas on workouts, you are probably looking for some credentials. You are probably thinking, "who is this guy and why should I read his fitness advice?" Well, somebody much wiser than myself once said, "a picture is worth a thousand words," and if the picture you have already seen doesn't prove any worth, try out my new tag-line, "a bicep is worth a thousand words:"

BOOM. Check out that bicep. Credentials. Done.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I was once a collegiate oarsman, and if you are still looking some hint of athleticism beyond an abundance of body hair and bicep vascularity, I won a bunch of New England Rowing Championships, a couple of ECAC National Championships, and I was in the crew that set the Head of the Charles Collegiate Eight course record in 2007. Not bragging, just saying.

Serious moment:
For my team, rowing was a sport where we would train for over 500 hours, for less than 60 minutes of racing - and that is just for the Spring racing season. It was brutally intense, exhaustingly painful, back-breaking work, and I miss it every day. I relished the opportunity to compete and I wouldn't trade a single one of those 500 hours for anything. This kind of commitment to competition and sport confused so many of my college classmates: Why would I want to put myself through all that hard work when there were frat parties, and freshmen girls, and pot? I'll tell them why: because while those kids may have been to one extra frat party (that they don't even remember), I will always remember the feeling of crossing that finish line first.

It was early on a Saturday morning, long before the rest of school even woke up with their hangovers. My lungs were burning, my heart was racing, my legs so full of lactic acid I thought they would burst into flames, and I leaned forward to shake the hand of the man in front of me, my teammate who I sat next to and Winter and Spring, all 500 hours of training. His hands were wet from splashing the water in celebration and even though we were too tired to speak, we were both able to shout to the rest of the boat, "hell yeah."

That is sport. That is competition. And now I have since graduated, and my uniform remains folded at the bottom of my dresser, and I have a job where I sit at my desk for 9 hours a day, and I eat A LOT of goldfish and pretzels (the only thing our office kitchen ever seems to have in stock), and I don't work out for 2-4 hours a day anymore, and I have started to put on weight, and my biceps are shrinking. All this because I didn't have a reason to train, no more sense of purpose, no competition, my life was quickly becoming nothing more than work, beer, and ugly girls at the bar - that is, of course, until I found Sophie… I mean Tough Mudder.

This event has given me something to work for, and this blog this blog has given us a place to work for it together. So, thank you Tough Mudder, thanks for reading, stay tuned, I love you Sophie, and here is one more look at my bicep:

A really good idea

These guys have the right idea...I'm pretty sure they're singing Drip Drop Drippidy Drop

After watching this awesome youtube video from NorCal participants Cathy and Mark, I just some Marine cadences. There are about eighty jillion different albums of them on itunes, and all of you people training should download them IMMEDIATELY.

They are the BEST for running, and the reasons are threefold: 1. They make you feel pumped and motivated 2. They keep you in a constant rhythm (for me it was exactly 6mph) and 3. They teach you about literature, because who knew Tim O'Brien's book If I Die In A Combat Zone was a reference to a Marine cadence?

Those songs get you SO PUMPED AND MOTIVATED AND IN THE ZONE TO CRUSH WORKOUTS!!!! COACH SEAN JUST EMAILED ME AND HE USES SO MUCH CAPSLOCK AND EXCLAMATION POINTS AND IT GETS ME REALLY PUMPED FOR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The NoFun Spin Zone

Why so sad, Harry Potter? Is it because you just found out you are the last Horcrux? Or maybe because you just took the WORST SPIN CLASS ON EARTH?!???!!!

I joined a new gym last night, so this morning I went over for the first time and took a spin class. I used to go to this really awesome fancy gym, but lately I’ve had to face facts and accept that maybe my money could be better spent somewhere else, like at the supermarket or Forever 21.

It was the absolute worst. Everything about it is the tiniest bit of a downgrade, and all those downgrades add up to one giant craptacular.

As with most gyms, there are towels for spin class. At my old gym they were already on the bikes when you got there, but at the new one you actually had to pick it up yourself off of a shelf. This was really annoying for me to do myself, since Intern Brian has left to go “start” his “fall semester” at “school." As for the towel itself, it was the roughest of towels. It felt like rubbing my face with shark teeth.

You know how they say “it’s like riding a bike,” because you can never forget how to ride a bike? That doesn’t apply to my spin teacher, who either has amnesia or has never been on a bicycle. I know that I could have just made the resistance extra hard to make up for the fact that our teacher wasn’t really pushing us, but that is not really the focus of this post. I also could have ridden a real bike outside or not have eaten all those cookies last night while lying in my bed and weeping softly, but life is too short for all of these hypothetical situations.

Then I went to shower, and I discovered another idiotic thing about their shark towels—they are awkwardly small. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

At my old gym, there was so much I took for granted. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept on. Wait, sorry, that’s Titanic. But on the real, at my old gym the locker rooms had everything from razors to q-tips (note: do NOT mix those up.) The new gym has only two hair driers, and I’m pretty sure the same stuff comes out of the shampoo and mouth wash dispensers.

My roommates were not that sympathetic. “I am not that sympathetic,” Lindsey said. “Also,” Jodie added, “Stop being a baby.” Those are all fair statements. And really, the point is to train hard—you can do that anywhere, which I know from movies about prison. And in prison, they don’t even have towels, so I think we can all learn something from them (mainly that if you get arrested, try to bring your own towel.)

Update

I tried to make Intern Brian go to spinning for me, but he refused. Who does he think he is?