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spartanendurance-blog · 8 years ago

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Stephanie vs the HH12HR By Stephanie Huntsman

Stephanie Huntsman explains in her own words, the thoughts and memories of the HH12HR in Wintergreen, 2016. In August, I was one of ten #HH12HR finishers in Wintergreen, VA; I went into the event not knowing what to expect. While my goal was to finish – mostly because I couldn’t bear the thought of having to explain to my Dad when he picked me up that I did not – it was a marker to see where I was at in my preparation for #WorldsToughestMudder that following November. Throughout the twelve hours, there were many moments where I thought I wasn’t going to make it, namely while carrying that damn log and my ruck up the “Death March” hill; coming back to our base camp and seeing Dylan Forsyth and Tony "La Tigre" Matesi was one of the brightest moments of that day.

Fast forward six months later, and the “Las Vegas” Super held the opportunity to attempt the #HurricaneHeat, HH12HR, and #SpartanSuper one right after another. Initially, I signed up for just the HH and the Super, knowing that it was two weeks after #BFX24 (BattleFrog Series’ inaugural 24-hour OCR), and unsure of how I would be feeling after that race. With the newly enforced Monday registration cut-off, I signed up for the HH12HR the Friday prior to the event, as I was feeling relatively recovered a week out from BFX24, and a lingering health problem that I developed after BattleFrog Las Vegas had been absent. In publicly inquiring to confirm this would be allowed by the krypteia, there were a number of criticisms made, namely that I needed to respect the HH12HR and shouldn’t underestimate it; fortunately, although the individuals making these comments were unaware of my previous completion in addition my ongoing training, the krypteia were. I felt like I would be cheating myself if I only attempted the HH and the Super; my experience in Wintergreen had been incredibly introspective, and I could not resist the challenge of another, let alone the temptation to chase all three.

En route to Littlefield on Friday, I kept thinking if my decision to leave my Frogskins top at home was a mistake; I had survived similar temperatures in Miami with just my windbreaker, so I convinced myself that all would be well. Lesson Learned – If you think you might need something, bring it.

(Disclaimer: I may very well have the sequence slightly out of order for this, so please bear with me!)

Our Hurricane Heat commenced with four warm-up laps and a few rounds of push-ups before we split into two teams and began our first challenge: moving sandbags for the HH12HR from pallets in the festival area up the hill to the Checkpoint. Team 1 worked in near perfect synchronicity, with runners bringing the additional bags to the hill, and a sort of relay system shuttling them to our neatly stacked pile. As a result, we completed the take first, and earned a rest break while Team 2 completed their penalty PT.

We then chose tires to carry with us through more or less of the first mile of the course, transitioning from hard pack to sand, and finally a high-crawl through the creek. One of the more enjoyable tasks, once you got your rhythm down, was the log roll with your tire; having your hands at 10 and 2 allowed for momentum to be easily maintained (to the extent I had to pause so as not to allow too much of a gap between me and my teammates.)

We then stacked them neatly and jumped back into the creek for one of my favorites: hydroburpees. At this point, dusk had fallen, and with it the temperature; I still felt confident that my windbreaker would be enough for the HH12HR, but this was my first moment of doubt. As we came back to base camp, we formed three lines and clipped our wrists and ankles together before the two individuals on the outside donned the blacked-out goggles and left the middle individual as our guide. This, along with the rest of the HH, required communication between teammates, and resulted in quite a few laughs. I’m not sure how far we went like this, as I had my goggles on; after a short waterbreak, we unclipped our ankles and completed the hill climb (over tires) to the barbed wire crawl and finally the descent.

It wasn’t until I saw the hill in daylight on Saturday morning that I was in disbelief we actually did that. Once we unclipped, it was a race through the crawl again, this time with tires under the wire as well (unsure if they were there the first time), and a burpee penalty if you didn’t stay low. Just when we’d finally dried off, it was back over the ramps, through the mud, and ultimately under the dunk wall. After some PT following this, the three of us attempting to complete both the HH and the HH12HR were released to join our fellow 12HR comrades. I darted to bag check to trade my CamelBack for my ruck, and I don’t think I’ve ever donned a windbreaker faster. I don’t think I’ve ever craved ruck burpees more than I did while we stood there waiting to complete registration and gear check; there is nothing fun about shivering while soaking wet, and pacing your movement to keep warm but not over-exert yourself.

100 Ruck Burpees and 100 Burpees later, I had finally stopped shivering. In hindsight, this was a terrible realization: yes, I was no longer shivering, but I was not sweating either.

Then began the team portion of the HH12HR (AROO Team Rhabdo…And I’m with you Travis, maybe not the best topic given the circumstances, LOL.) We moved out to select our team logs (telephone poles, if logs doesn’t seem quite fitting enough), and I heard a rumor somewhere we did close to two miles through the course with them? We traversed over road and through sand, had a few terrifying moments over some hills, and finally raced back to place them where we found them. Then, we brought out our empty sandbags, and raced over to fill them ¾ of the way. Note to Self: When sandbags are a required item, don’t just go to ACE and buy the only ones they stock, look around and find ones that aren’t 25L (I made the mistake of Googling approximate weight of 20L of sand, it’s around 66lbs. Times two bags.)

Once we returned with our bags, we were given five minutes to construct whatever means of carrying them we preferred; I opted for securing one to my ruck with paracord, and transformed the other into a wreck-bag with duct tape. We then moved back to what would become our basecamp, and dropped our rucks for the first time since the burpees. We were instructed to re-tie or re-configure our sandbags however we needed, and then headed to complete the kid’s course with both bags in tow. Those two bags went over, under, and through every obstacle on that course, sometimes at the same time, sometimes one at a time, and sometimes by two separate people.

Although we were told the team to complete the mission first would be able to set out on the next portion of the heat first, those divisions blurred as our time on the course elapsed. It transitioned from helping your teammates over obstacles, to carrying a third bag for those of us who could only manage one of our own (bless your heart, Travis), to fellow comrades helping anyone who was struggling, teammate or not – THAT is what the Hurricane Heat is about, whether the regular or the 12-Hour.

From here, it was onto the individual portion: five items, collected in sequential order, with an unknown time limit; instructions for the next task would be given once the previous one had been completed, we we were to stay on course or on the access roads at all times. The first was a sandbag out past the A-Frame, simple and straightforward once you figured out where the course could be shortcutted. The second was retrieving those tires we took out to the creek during the HH, again, straightforward, but man was I not looking forward to that sand. My heart dropped through my feet as I read what the stipulations of the third task were: we’d be retrieving a sandbag from the top of the hill we’d placed them upon during the HH (okay, not the end of the world, even with your ruck) while also carrying our two personal sandbags.

After choking back tears as I re-secured a bag to my ruck, I lost myself for a moment allowing the task before me to cloud my mission, Tony was kind enough to give me a verbal kick in the ass to snap me back to reality. After two unsuccessful attempts to put my ruck+sandbag on, I swallowed my pride and asked Justin for help; Tony mentioned letting some sand out of my bags, but at that point it wasn’t really an option, as I had lent the remainder of my duct tape to another HH12HR’er and to tie and retie would be time-consuming. Justin traded his loose bag with mine, and together we set off to complete the third task. I would stop three times on the way over to set that loose bag down, recollect myself, and move forward before even reaching the base of the hill. Not even a few yards into it, my legs gave out.

Rather than expend the energy to stand back up in the sand, I began to crawl up the hill, flipping the loose bag end over end in front of me. At first, it seemed to work well, but the sand continued to grow colder, and I was no longer moving fast enough to keep from shivering; the breaks became more frequent and bursts of uphill movement shortened.

Thank you to everyone who offered kind words and motivation as you passed, and to those who checked on me when I was resting. Just around daybreak, I had a fleeting thought that it would be fine, the sun would be up soon and I would be able to feel my hands and feet again. I looked up the hill, and guesstimated I was about 15 yards from the top – almost there – I rolled to a seated position to collect myself for that final uphill push. Unfortunately, that push never happened – the next thing I remember, I was wrapped in Justin’s emergency blanket, with gloves and handwarmers, giving my name to the race medical staff, and trying to force out a stern “No” when asked if they needed to pull me (that proved to actually be a very rhetorical question on their part.) As if to add insult to injury, my DQ from medical also meant I was DQ’ed from running the Super, although it was probably for the best that I wasn’t allowed to make the attempt.

For “the rest of the story”, you’ll have to talk to one of the nineteen incredible individuals who were successful in their endeavor; I’d especially suggest Michael Bell, as he finished what I couldn’t, and is super humble about the entire endeavor.

Tony, I apologize for disregarding your “listen to your body” comment, I’m quite stubborn about it when it comes to hypothermia, because I can usually embrace the suck and get through it. In hindsight, I realized that I didn’t break a sweat at any point during the HH12HR, and that should have been a red flag to me but I ignored it (I will admit, I do take it a bit for granted that we have medical on-site, ignoring those facts could prove fatal in future events I plan to take on.)

Thank you, sir, for another incredible event, and I look forward to future HH12HRs with you, and when finances and work permits, the #Agoge – which I think you knew in Wintergreen. The HH12HR is never an event to underestimate, regardless of the terrain or the climate, but it is one that I cannot recommend enough if you want to challenge yourself. As much as my heart broke on that hill, I never quit; although I DNF’s through DQ, I fought tooth and nail to never accept defeat, and I walked away ultimately stronger because of it.

#YearOfEndurance SpartanEndurance HurricaneHeat HH12HR SpartanAgoge Agoge BringTheStorm WeAreStorm Endurance Burpees Carry Weight WarriorEtho

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