My team was standing at the
start line of a 200-mile expedition race that would take us 3 days and nights
through the back woods of Maine to reach the finish line. This was now my
third longer race and I had a veteran team assembled that expected to compete
for the win. We had our canoes and padding gear with us at the starting line
but no water in sight. The maps showed that we had a 3-4 mile section of
woods to travel first (with all of our equipment including a very heavy canoe)
until we reached our first large lake. Teams took off running like it was
a 100 yard dash, we had learned by now that this was wasted energy so early in
the race. We made our way to the lake rolling the canoe on wheels and
sometimes carrying it over downed trees or rocks. A large lake paddle
followed and by three hours into the race we reached a dam where we would
transition to a white water rafting section.
This segment of the race was
designed to be fun really. The river was controlled by the dam and they
released the water each morning in the spring. We'd get into class 3 and
class 4 rapids but in a large rubber raft with a guide, so more fun than danger.
A small delay on the initial canoe portage had us around 10th place, but the
field was fairly compact still. We had a great time on the rapids and we
paddled during the flatter stages of the river in order to move forward.
Our efforts seem to pay off because as we descended to the lower section of the
river, we started catching the teams in front of us. However, we also
started to notice that the teams behind us were also catching up to us.
It took us a while to figure out what was happening, but our guide explained
that we had moved faster than then water release and we were now ahead of the
bubble of water traveling down the river from the damn. It sounds crazy,
but the water needs to fill up so many nooks and crannies as the river goes
along, that even though we were on top of class 4 rapids a few miles back, now
the rafts were scraping rocks on the bottom and you could get out and walk
faster. The result was that almost all of the teams in the race came back
together by the end of the river section. It was basically like starting
the race over again. The teams that had burned energy to be way out front
at the beginning were upset. You could hear them complaining to one
another. For us, it seemed like a neutral event and nothing we could do
about it at this point. Just had to move on.
After meeting with our
support team, the next leg was a 90-mile mountain bike leg that seems to be
entirely on roads - well Maine roads, which means soft dirt and lots of rocks.
It was early afternoon and we felt we would be to the next rendezvous point
with our support team by 8:00pm that evening. We set out on the long slog
that didn't seem to have too much to it except the saddle sore that can set it
with that many miles. Just about as night began to fall strange things started
happening and the wheels started to fall off. First, we passed an
intermediate checkpoint and faced a gear inspection and learned that we had
forgotten to pack a piece of our safety gear. We were issued a 2-hour
penalty that we would have to serve at the next transition area. Hot off of
that news we started down a road that seemed good for a while, but quickly
started to meander differently from what the map indicated. We kept pressing
forward, but it became clear that we were no longer following along the line
drawn on the map. Another few miles and we had to pull up and start
assessing the situation. We were feeling lost and now faced various road
choices. We had been in the top three of the standings since we started the
biking sections, but the longer we stood around trying to figure out where we were
on the map, the more teams caught up with us. As it turned out, most of the
teams ended up in the same (wrong) spot and started to work together to solve
the riddle. It took hours with some trial and error going down incorrect roads
and having to double back to our original location, then trying something else.
By the time we worked it
out, it was the dead middle of the night. Now riding under lights, we felt like
we were back on course, and then came the rain. It started raining pretty hard
and the May night was cold. The one thing I hate to do during races is stop out
on course. But the team was falling apart and it was pretty miserable. We came
up on a small cabin in the woods that had a small covered porch and we ducked
under. Always a little risky in the middle of the Maine woods in the
middle of the night which No Trespassing signs everywhere. But we piled up on
the floor under our space blankets and took a 1-hr nap. It took us the rest of
the night and a good portion of the next morning to get to the support area we
expected to reach the previous evening. We were tired, cold, wet, and
starving as we didn't plan enough food for the full night. Our crew was also
a little weary as they had been up all night anticipating our arrival at any
moment. And, we had a two hour penalty to face at some point. It was too
much for two of the four team members. They decided to drop out of the
race. We were only 1/3 of the way through and this was devastating news. All
the preparation time, all the training, all the effort to get here. I consulted
with my teammate and good friend David Darby and we decided that we would
continue on even if it was unofficial. Once again, nothing more we could do
about an outside force.
We refreshed ourselves with
supplies and food, served our penalty, and continued on. A day and half later,
Dave and I crossed the finish line together unofficially in third place.
Throughout my adventuring
racing career I was faced time and time again with surprise challenges: flat tires,
broken bike chains, getting lost, feeling and getting sick, bad or broken team
mates. Besides the awesome travel and adventures, the repetition of facing and
dealing with these challenges was the most valuable part of the whole
experience. I think back to my life prior to getting involved with
adventure racing and I see a life focused on the wrong things and stress built
up over meaningless things. How many times was I stuck in traffic and
cursing up and down in my car? How many people get mad because their
Starbucks isn't made just right? I watched a Vice President at my company
blow a gasket yelling at me because I suggested two engineers move next to one
another because they were going to be working on a project together for the
next several months. Not natural.
It was right around this
time that (and not coincidentally) I launched my event business - Genesis
Adventures - and began to promote and run my own adventure races locally in
Connecticut. It was a long time coming but I had finally done all the
work to form the business, create the website, do the marketing, secure permits
and all the support equipment necessary to pull off the event. I had quit my
six-figured job and was hanging out on a limb with a big mortgage and two small
kids at home. The last element I needed was kayaks for the race. I had sourced
a supplier and felt the order was in hand. I needed around 60 inflatable kayaks
for the first event and coming up on one week before my debut event, they had
not arrived. I called the supplier and it turned out that they were on back
order and none would arrive in time for the race. I distinctly remember kicking
a box in my office very hard and sitting with my hands in my head for a while.
But I was different now. Just one more obstacle standing in my way that I
had to solve.
I found that the local Sports
Authority stores stocked the same kayaks, I jumped in my truck, my wife in her
van with the kids and we bought out every store I could in the area. It was now
a day before the race and I only had 20 kayaks. The great thing about adventure
races is that the competitors are expecting surprises from the race
organizer. Since there was a running, biking, and kayaking section on the
course, I split the field in three and sent them in three different directions.
Only 1/3 of the field needed kayaks at once and we made it through the race. In
fact, the racers thought it was cool that they weren't all together and
couldn't tell how they were doing until the end.
As I staged more and bigger
events as a Race Director, the one thing you learn is that despite all the
planning - things happen. And they're going to happen to you.
What's important is how you react. I see too many people who want to over plan,
and then when a deviation occurs, they're crushed. They can't deal with
it. I've watched top triathletes run into a relatively small, but
unplanned issue and blow a fuse ruining their entire race. I've seen
inexperienced Race Directors over plan, and then get consumed and overrun by a
small problem rather than seeing the big picture.
A great man I know worked
for the same company for over 30 years until he was laid off during a
downsizing. It spun him into a clinical depression for close to a
year. It was very hard to watch. His plan, his self-worth, his
vision of the future was all tied to the company that he started to work for
out of college and would take care of him until he retired. But an outside,
uncontrollable force changed his plan suddenly. It was crazy, the man had
achieved everything great in life. A loving wife, four beautiful
children, house, and solid wealth that gave him the freedom to do whatever he
wanted in life. At some point in his journey, he awakened. He pick
himself off the couch and began to move forward. He created his own new
business that gave him a new sense of purpose and a greater sense of pride than
I have ever seen. It wasn't even about the money for him. Over ten
years later the business continues to run and grow. I take great
inspiration from this man and I'm very happy to be part of his life.
We've already covered that
planning and preparation are important. But far more important is the ability
to read and react to the certain and sometimes very sudden changes that will
take place in your life. Obstacles are coming your way, and I'm not talking
about a cold Starbucks, traffic, or someone playing politics at work, that's all
crap. You need to develop resilience, an ability to absorb a new
situation and adapt your plan at a moment's notice. This is the only way to
move forward in life.
