Sitting in a rooftop Jacuzzi, at the plush Mokara Hotel and Spa in downtown San Antonio, with Survival Race winner Shane McKay, felt strangely foreign to me.
Twenty-four hours previous, I was navigating my way through ridiculously rocky terrain, in the dark, with bloody feet, body lacerations, and an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. I was 17 hours and 30 miles into the race, and my footwear had become pretty much nonexistent. When I could run, I looked more like an extra for the Walking Dead, stumbling after warm blood, than I did an endurance athlete.
During these low points, I used to ask myself why I do these things. Am I just trying to look tough, or perhaps trying to convince myself that I am tough? What draws me to self-induced suffering?
Read the rest of my the Survival Run race report at Obstacle Racing Media.