Warrior Dash Kick-off

With the Atwell Arsenal’s first Tough Mudder nearly two weeks behind us, it’s time to set our sights on the next challenge.  The Atwell Arsenal won great glory down in the South Amherst Quarries and now it’s high time you found YOUR inner awesome.

Ladies and Gentlemen, for your consideration we present the Warrior Dash

What: A 5k run through mud, mud, fire, and a dozen obstacles.

Where: Clay’s Park in beautiful North Lawrence, Ohio.  Just southwest of Akron and a mere 50 miles from Solon.

Why: To unleash your inner warrior, to taste your fight or flight reflex, to singe the hair off your legs jumping burning hay bales.

When: August 25^th and 26^th, aka much warmer weather than the Ohio Tough Mudder

Who: Your family, your friends, but mainly YOU.  Were you one of the many people who got completely sick of hearing us ramble on and on and on about the Tough Mudder?  Stop being irritated and start being irritating! 

How:  Join us!  All skill and fitness levels are welcome!  No excuses about being too weak/scrawny /out of shape/scared/old/ or <INSERT PERSONAL HANG-UP HERE>, this is something you can do! 

We have an experienced team of registered professionals (disclaimer: not health or athletic fields) ready and willing to help you make it to the finish line in one piece. 

By joining  in on the fun you can anticipate a full range of team activities, such as trail runs through the Metroparks, Volpe Hill training sessions, chigger bite awareness seminars, and alcohol consumption. 

More details to follow.  For now do some reading at www.warriordash.com .  On behalf of the entire Atwell Arsenal family, we look forward to having you out on the course with us!

Ohio/Michigan Starting Line Speech

To ensure this is preserved in the annals of history, today the Atwell Arsenal is proud to present the Tough Mudder starting line speech from our 9:00 wave.  When the outstanding MC moves to the center of the group, you can see our team to the back right of the screen ready to embark on the Ohio Tough Mudder course. 

Watch, enjoy, be moved, be inspired.

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap - Part 1

Get your coffee, take a bathroom break and get ready... this recap is waaaay too long. You'll need a Tough Mudder's endurance to get through this thing. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The Atwell Arsenal assembled at the Great Northern Mall before the sun was up. Our fearless leader Bob-o-licious volunteered the services of his SUV since it could fit the whole pack of crazy in one car. Sears was gracious enough to keep an eye on our cars while we were gone.
(The Atwell Arsenal – Steve, Bob, Erick, Tim, Dan, Justin)

Nerves tensed and stomachs churned as we drove the half-hour to the Ford plant where everyone would be parking. We joked to lighten the air, but anyone on the team who said they weren’t at least a little apprehensive of what the day might hold would be a liar. Would the weather hold? How cold would that water be? Would our legs last through those long miles?

The parking lot was abuzz as we gathered the last of our gear and made the hike to the shuttle bus. Rhianna and Chris Brown pumped from the speakers. Not the most traditional Tough Mudder music, but it worked in a pinch. As the bus neared the course, we craned our necks like excited school kids on a field trip. We could see glimpses of obstacles just through the woods. Black and orange flagging marked portions of the course that ran along the road. And then we arrived: Tough Mudder basecamp.
Registration was quick and painless thanks to arriving so early. We picked up our packets, pinned on numbers, and got the ceremonial forehead number inscribed from Sharpie wielding volunteers.

The Atwell Arsenal stretched and prepared. A big screen overhead showed G.I. Joe 2 trailer on a loop. Jicha took a couple of turns at the keg toss, trying to knock over wood cut outs of Fabio, Mini Me, and Keanu Reeves.

From the stage an MC both directed traffic, offered tips, and kept the atmosphere light. “It's now or never 8:00 wave. If you're not in the starting corral by now, you might as well get back on the shuttle bus and go home. Also, if you're walking around in a pair of those weird separated five-toe shoes please be aware that you are creeping the rest of us out. I don't know what was going on in your regular shoes that you had to separate everybody, but maybe you need to sort those issues out.”
(warming up)

We heard the national anthem being played at the starting line for the 8:00 wave and stood at attention. The MC remarked as the first wave of 600 took off, “Look at them go. Like a bunch of baby sea turtles. Most of them aren't going to make it.”

The quest continues:

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/race-recap-continued_6456.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 2

Finally after two more waves and two more national anthem recordings played, it was our turn to line up.

To even enter the starting corral you had to clear an 8 foot wall. Each member of the Atwell Arsenal leaped over with ease. Our confidence swelled. We milled among our fellow runners.

The hype man at the starting line responsible for getting everyone in the zone was absolutely astounding. The following is all paraphrasing, pieced together from memories clouded by adrenaline, electrolyte energy gels kicking in, and just a touch of fear. I highly recommend you sign up for your nearest/closest Tough Mudder race to get the full effect.

“Welcome to the Ohio Tough Mudder. Today we have a course designed to exploit your every weakness. To challenge your body and mind.”

The gathered mass hung on hype man’s words as he wandered to the middle of the start corral. “Bring it in close. People in the back crowd in. Now everybody bend your knees and sway.” We crowded in as he had us clapping, howling and shouting out words on command.
“If you've got a little something called 'Mental Grit', let me hear a hoo-rah.”
“HOO-RAH” six hundred voices answered in unison.

As Erick would later say “I could have dunked a basketball from the free-throw line after hearing him speak.”

“When I say TOUGH you say MUDDER. TOUGH”
“MUDDER”
“TOUGH”
“MUDDER”

“When I say TEAM you say PRIDE. TEAM”
“PRIDE”
“TEAM”
“PRIDE”

And as suddenly as hype man whipped us into that frenzy, he instructed us to take a knee. “Look around. These are your teammates today. Help them. Encourage them. They can't do this alone, and neither can you. Now stand up and say hello to the people around you.”

We did as commanded as he moved back towards the front. “Sarah,” he called to the side “Don't play it.” He turned back to us. “Now normally I save this until the last wave, but when I get a really great group I'll pull it out early. I'll start you off, but I want every last one of you to sing the Star Spangled Banner with me.”

“O-oh say” was barely out of his mouth before the 600 of us drowned him out. Our rendition would of made Whitney Houston proud.

Visibly pleased, hype man stood back at the front of the crowd at the base of a steep hillside and led us in the Tough Mudder pledge:

And with a long blow of the whistle, we were off.

The quest continues:

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/we-sprang-up-that-first-little-hillside.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 3

We sprang up that first little hillside and got a face full of orange smoke for our trouble. Through the woods and a short distance to Obstacle #1: High Steppin' , a series of 4' high walls, probably 15 to 20 of them.
(High Steppin, from Tough Mudder event pics)

We hopped the hip walls one after another with little trouble. I found it was all about rhythm. Left side hop, two steps, right side hop, two steps, repeat. Clearing the obstacle we were off, through the woods and skirting a quarry toward one of the more ominous obstacles, Obstacle #2: The Arctic Enema.

The AE consists of a vat 15' long, 4' deep that's filled with ice water, dyed either bright pink, green, or blue depending on which vat you pick. In the middle there's a wood wall that forces you to get fully submerged in order to get by. Just to make sure you don't try to jump the wall, there's barbed wire overhead. The Arctic Enema is a poorly named obstacle because as soon as you hit that water your butt and everything else clench up so tight that nothing is getting in or out.
(The Atwell Arsenal emerging from Arctic Enema)

It was on Arctic Enema that we had our first casualty. Bob wore a pink beanie for the race with his wife Pam's initials written on it in honor of Pam kicking cancer's ass. We chose to jump in the pink water in her honor too. But when Bob came up for air, his hat had been swept off his head under the water. Numb hands swept through the water but came up empty. Survival instinct kept him moving forward and out of the icy tank.

We pressed on, one hat down but spirits still high, and turned to run along a road that cuts north and south through the heart of the quarries. A steady stream of golf carts, patrolling ambulances, and other race affiliated vehicles rolled in both directions. A swarm of girls dressed as bees passed us. But we caught up with them at Obstacle #3: Berlin Walls #1.

Nine foot high wood walls stood in our way. The bee girls needed some assistance in getting over the wall which Erick and I volunteered to provide. After that Jicha was the first over the wall and the rest of us followed without incidence. On the other side of the wall was... another wall. We repeated the same process from the first wall and were off again. Not far ahead came Obstacle #4: Fire Walker.
(Fire Walker – We’re in there somewhere)

This challenge was as much mental as physical. Hay bales to either side of a pair of paths smoked and smoldered giving only a few feet of visibility. The stretch through the fire was not especially long, but finding yourself amidst all that fire and smoke it was difficult not to subconsciously do a little panicking. How much further? My eyes burn. Did I get turned around? Where's my team? I can't breathe. We all kept our legs moving and came out unscathed on the other side. Next!

Obstacle #5: Bale Bonds. Possibly the most fun obstacle and certainly one of the easiest. Hay bale pyramids stacked two bales high. Bounce like a Mario brother or climb like Sly Stallone in Cliffhanger to the top and then back down. Similar to the Berlin Walls, once you were over one you had a second to contend with.
(Bale Bonds, from Tough Mudder pics)

It was around this point when the challenge really started. After another period of running through the woods and trails, we emerged to see one of the premier obstacles before us, Walk The Plank. But the path turned us from the tower, the course designers nefariously wanting to give you a glimpse of the challenge ahead before pulling you away. They'd repeat this game a few times.

The quest continues

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/race-recap-continued_7095.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 4

We passed a large banner proclaiming we'd reached the 3 mile mark. Up to this point, the miles had been marked with small 2'x2' placard signs along the side of the trail. But mile 3 is special because Tough Mudder picks on their kid brother the Warrior Dash, proclaiming that if we'd signed up for a Warrior Dash we'd already be done, but you're a Tough Mudder so press on!

Next came Obstacle #6: Killa Gorilla. We scrambled up one side of a huge gravel pile, probably 30 feet in the air, then ran down the other side, wading out into a knee deep pond before turning around and scaling the gravel pile again from the other side. We mudders traveled in a line as the circuit took us into the woods, through more small pools, up and down. Finally we reached the end of the Killa Gorilla circuit, and came to what had been in the back of everyone's minds through the gravel climb.

(Walk the Plank, Killa Gorilla in the background, from Tough Mudder pics)

Obstacle #7: Walk the Plank. A jump from the top of a 15' tall wooden tower into a quarry. Luckily there was plenty the frigid quarry water to break your fall. All told it was around a twenty foot drop, factoring in the water level compared to the bank.

A race official with a bullhorn directed runners when to climb, and another official at the top called out when the last jumpers were clear so that the next wave could take the plunge. Some people froze up at the top, afraid to jump. The race officials gave them three chances before they'd tell them to turn around and climb down. I climbed to the top and leaped when directed, unwilling to look down until my feet were off the platform. If I'd of glanced down at how far away that water was at the top, I may have needed a moment to get the courage.

(Walk the Plank)

I hit the water feet first and sank. Deep. I paddled like mad to get back to the surface. The water was cold! Arctic Enema was definitely colder with the chunks of ice, but AE was over in 15 freezing seconds. It was a 30 yard swim to the shore. I immediately rolled onto my back to swim and kicked as hard as I could toward the ramp leading up from the quarry. Erick waved to me from top, waiting his turn to jump. He'd later say “I tried to get your attention before I jumped but you didn't see me.”

“Oh I saw you,” I said, “But I was too busy trying not to drown.”

Bob was waiting at the shore, standing on a ledge above the ramp leading up from the water, whooping encouragement. “Nice work ladies!” Bob had used a paratrooper technique so when he hit the water he barely went under and could immediately begin swimming. He didn't tell us this until at the bar well after the race. For now, we were all in awe of how quickly he'd made it to shore.

We regrouped, looking like a pack of drowned rats, and set off to see what Big Mudder had in store for us next.

Obstacle #8: Dirty Holes. Or Dirty Ballerina. Or Mud Mile. Or Swamp Stomp. Now might be a good time to mention that the map previously posted to the Tough Mudder website was roughly 98% wrong. Wrong obstacle list, wrong start and finish orientation, wrong wrong wrong. The map distributed race day morning was better, but still probably only 50/50. So this next obstacle could have been called anything, but let's go with Dirty Holes because by the time we were done traipsing through a half mile of knee deep mud and dropping into chest deep pits of murky water, clambering up onto semi-dry ground, and repeating the pits part 4 more times, pretty much every orifice was coated in mud. Every. Orifice. Let the mental image sink in. Ok, moving on. (Dirty Holes, courtesy of Tough Mudder pics)

With a few exceptions, between each obstacle was a half to three-quarter of a mile jog. Signs dotted the course with inspirational quips (“If you don't have the taste of blood in your mouth at the finish line, can you really say you gave it your all?”), signs that were supposed to make you chuckle (“Beware of Velocirapters. Stay on course.”), and some that were apparently supposed to be playing mind games (“Shouldn't you be mowing your lawn?”). I didn't give that last one a second thought, but after the race Erick would report that it did have a kind of psyche out effect on him, making him second guess what he was doing when in fact, yes, he should have been home tending to yard work.

Next up came the consensus vote for most difficult obstacle, Obstacle #9: Trench Warfare. A series of eleven gravel berms mounded to a point, separated by chest-deep moats. You could try to leap the trenches to stay dry and risk racking your ribs/knees/shoulders against the other side, or you could submit and drop into the water each time and have to pull yourself out. Jicha opted not to go airborne and “happily” slid into each trench. The rest of us did our best to stay dry. Erick and Conway each had a particularly nasty spill when their feet just caught the dry ground, their chest and face would bounce off the edge, and then bounce backwards. Think Wipeout with mud and no pithy hosts.

After another run through the woods, next was Obstacle #10: Swamp Stomp. Ever been hiking and had to skirt the edge of a swamp so as not to get your feet and gear wet? We cut across that swamp, but in a roundabout route that led us to deeper portions of swamp, over downed trees, and finally emerged to dry ground out at the edge of Interstate 80. I'd like to think that the drivers, upon seeing dozens of mud coated swamp people emerging from the woods and lurching toward the highway, for a moment thought to themselves “Did I take a wrong turn and end up in Mississippi?”

The dry ground didn't last. First the spotty showers that had been threatening all day turned into a slow, steady soaking. And almost immediately after seeing Interstate 80 we hit Obstacle #11: The Mud Mile.

Once upon a time the Mud Mile was clearly a driveway used for haul trucks and other equipment. Then Big Mudder came to town and cut out the road to be knee to hip deep and filled it with the thickest, slurriest, grayist mud they could find. It had the viscosity of reduced tomato soup, and coated shoes, legs, and any body part that neared its surface like paint. Several people had spills coating themselves in the gray paint. This was the first obstacle where I saw cheaters too... people who opted to walk along the dry edge and out of the obstacle. Sure, that was certainly the more comfortable and smarter way to go, but what did you sign up for again?
(Bob-o, our fearless and tireless leader)

We found dry ground again and got tangled up in Obstacle #12: The Devil's Beard. A cargo net around 100 feet long, staked to the ground at the edge. We soldiered through this one, holding the net over our heads in a snake of people. I think this one is intended to be done from a crawl, but some of the stakes were out of the ground allowing us to stand. Just ahead came the next obstacle.

Obstacle #12 : Boa Constrictor. Diabolical. First you slide down the inside of a twenty foot pipe into a pool of water. You can't stand up because of the barbed wire overhead, so you crawl forward to the pipe leading out. Only that pipe slopes upward and is slick inside with water and mud from the person who went before you.

Six lanes worth of pipes pointed down into that water. Bob led the way, diving in head first. I followed a few second later and could not believe the chaos down in the water pool. The muddy water churned like rapids as everyone scrambled toward the exit pipe. Backups were everywhere as people trying to climb up got stuck. Bob disappeared into our exit pipe. I hurried after him. I grunted and swore as I fought for traction in the tiny space. Too narrow to get on my hands and knees, I went with a side stroke type position; one hand ahead pulling at 6 o'clock, one hand on the ceiling pushing at 12 o'clock, and my legs to either side at about 4 and 8 o'clock to stop any backward sliding. I made it two-thirds up the pipe before Bob was able to reach my arm and tow me the rest of the way out.

As we waiting for our teammates we heard pitiful cries echoing from the pipe. “Man... come get me!” Jicha was trapped!

He'd made some progress in the climb, but then had slid all the way to the bottom. Bob took charge. “Biegs, go get him! I've got your feet!” I plunged back into the pipe headfirst, arms outstretched like Superman... a very cold and droopy mohawked Superman.

“It's ok big fella,” I said as I slid down the pipe, “I'm gonna get you home!” We locked wrists and shouted up to Bob-o. With the help of another mudder, Bob pulled our big asses out of there.

Looking back, if we'd of been smart we'd of had Tim grab onto Jicha's ankles and get up too. But then Tim wouldn't have gotten to showcase his excellent tunnel rat skills. Tim scurried up that pipe like the gopher from Caddyshack, and was out in the daylight only a few seconds behind the Jicha Rescue Party.

The good news was Boa Constrictor rinsed most of the thick grey mud from our legs, feet and hands. The bad news was we were again soaked, and scrawny me as starting to feel the cold. Not nearly as bad as some of the grim faces we'd seen already at medical tents; people wrapped in heating blankets, shivering faster than we thought possible, their eyes glazed over into thousand yard stares off into the distance. I scooped up a foil blanket from where it had been discarded alongside the course just in case and we shuffled on.

A word of warning: with the cold setting into my bones and brain, the second half of the course is a little hazy. I think I got these obstacles in the right order, but could have mixed them up in a few places. Please no torches and pitchforks if I make a mistake.

With half the course behind us, we saw two familiar faces. Abigail and Michelle waved at us from the side of the course. They were bundled in hoods and hats against the elements. We posed for pictures before tackling Obstacle #13: Trench Warfare.

Got a fear of confined spaces, the dark, or being buried alive? Welcome to Trench Warfare! A two foot wide hole in the ground welcomes you to the obstacle, while the sharp gravel lined bottom tries to get you to stay away. For around 30 feet, in the pitch dark, you wind your way through a rabbit warren of tunnels, scraping stomach, elbows, and knees in the process. On the plus side, the tunnel didn't have any water in it, so that made it tolerable. Once out on the other side, Abby handed me back my foil blanket and we were off again.
(Dan Jicha emerges from Trench Warfare, like a little baby being born into the world)

Before long we found Trench Warfare's wet, open-air brother, Obstacle #14: Kiss of Mud. Gravel on the bottom, water on top of that, a little bit of head room to get your breath on, and barbed wire overhead to keep you from doing something foolish like try wading through. Welcome to Kiss of Mud! Another 50 feet of army crawling and we were through. Nice and refreshing!

The quest continues:

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/race-recap-continued_20.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 5

As Obstacle #15: The Funky Monkey came into sight, we saw two more familiar faces. Erin and Jerry waved from the starting side of the meanest set of monkey bars you've ever seen. We posed for team pictures and took a breather before attacking the obstacle.
The Atwell Arsenal had varying degrees of poor performance, falling into the water underneath the Funky Monkey bars anywhere from halfway across to 2 rungs in. Other than Steve Conway that is. It was on Funky Monkey that Conway began to put some distance on his teammates for the Atwell Arsenal MVP race. Steve “Grand Back” Conway made it all the way to the second-to-last rung... before falling and clotheslining himself against the wooden finishing platform. How he didn't break a rib I'll never know, but Steve popped out of the water looking unfazed. He flashed his cock-eyed, cowboy smirk and we pressed on.

More woods, more muddy trails. We hoofed it over a set of moguls that led to two big dirt piles, Obstacle #16: Cliffhanger. Like Killa Gorilla, but smaller, shorter, and lamer. From the top of Cliffhanger, we saw another of the fabled obstacles just ahead, and a huge line to go with it.

Obstacle #17: Electric Eel. More army crawling through the mud, but this time instead of barbed wire overhead, it was dangling yellow wires, some charged with the voltage of a Taser. The rain and overcast skies were combining to make me quite cold, and I couldn't feel any electric shocks over the jolt of being submerged in water again.
(The Team Attacks Electric Eel)

Another half mile or so and we came to Obstacle #18: Twinkle Toes. Five balance beams over a pool of water. Fall in, get wet. Pretty simple. But Big Mudder added another twist... in past events people must have been scooting on their butts across the obstacle, because just below the walking surface the course designers ran those familiar yellow wires, ready to shock any dangling legs. Dan Jicha nearly made it across, but when his hand drifted down to catch himself the zap made his legs even wobblier, and into the drink he went.
(Twinkle Toes, pic from Tough Mudder. This was from Sunday’s running)

Obstacle 19: Hangin Tough was a few hundred feet away. About 10 rings dangling over water, same idea as Funky Monkey and Twinkle Toes; fail the obstacle and get wet. One after another the Atwell Arsenal splashed into the water. All save once. Putting a stamp on his team MVP award Steve Conway powered across, and this time did not miss the platform.
(Hanging Tough, from Tough Mudder’s pics)

The path disappeared into a winding wetland, complete with tall grass and cat tails and ankle deep water. When we found dry ground, we came across Obstacle #20: Berlin Walls #2. Between the fatigue of 9+ miles on our feet, conquering obstacles along the way, and the walls being 12' high instead of the first iteration's 9', the walls were humbling. We took turns helping each other and our fellow racers over the wall. With his low center of gravity and hands strengthened by years of intense CAD use, Erick proved to be a valuable asset in helping people over the wall. He'd clasp his hands into a step and on the count of three gave boosts to just about everyone in eye shot.

The quest continues:

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/race-recap-continued.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 6

Cold, cramping, and soaked, we soon found ourselves in the woods standing in another line. There was no obstacle in sight. The steady rain continued as we waited, shuffling forward as the queue moved. Finally we came up to the start of the day's longest challenge, Obstacle #21: Hold Your Wood.

It should have been called “Wait in line. In a swamp. In the rain. Carrying a 20 to 50 pound log.” At the starting line, you either grabbed a log off a pile of waiting wood, or got a log handed off from someone finishing the loop. This obstacle was not so much difficult as it was frustrating. On a clear course, it may have taken 5 minutes to power through this obstacle, possibly less. With the bottleneck of people trying to crowd down the narrow paths, it ended up taking more like 30. The hardest part was a steep descent halfway through the loop. People slipped and fell, or dropped their logs creating a knee clearing avalanche below. Then we had to climb out. Traction was non-existent due to the rain and thousands of feet smoothing out the terrain. But mudders don't whine. We happily passed our log off to the next poor souls and continued on. The end was not far.
Obstacle #22: Logjammin was strategically placed to get your cramping muscles good and mad at you. Climb over a stacked log wall about 5' high, then crawl under a log wall with about 2' of clearance, repeat 10 times. Bob and Steve went first, followed closely by Erick and me. As Erick and I waited at the end of the obstacle for Tim and Jicha (Jicha employed the “stop, drop, and roll” technique to get under the walls due to his stiff-as-boards hamstrings), the rain picked up from a continual sprinkle to a full-on downpour. We agreed it was time to hurry up and finish.

(Justin’s first failed Everest charge)

But first, Obstacle #23: Everest stood in our way. A quarter pipe, 18’ high, and slick with water, mud, and the plastic coating on top, Everest is a formidable foe. At least for me. I had a run up, and failed, my arms slipping through the dangling hands of fellow mudders taking a turn on top of the wall to pull people over. I tried again, and fell again. Bob, Tim, Erick, Jicha, and Steve all made it up on their first try. I was humbled, and took FIVE tries to finally make it up.

(Bob and Erick take the hill, from dual angles!)

(Tim conquers Everest)

The quest continues:

http://mudderarsenal.blogspot.com/2012/04/race-recap-cont.html

Ohio / Michigan Tough Mudder Recap, Part 7

(Steve gets over the wall with a little help from his friends)

There’s a number of theories as to how the tallest person on the team had such a hard time with this obstacle. But in the end it all boils down to me needing revenge on this obstacle. So please let me know if you want in on the Atwell Arsenal Tough Mudder Part II in either Maryland or Kentucky or South Carolina this September – October. I’m there.
(Another failed Justin attempt. Ballet jumps just weren’t cutting it)

With Everest behind us, we made our way as a team through the last portion of woods. The last thing between us and the finish line was Obstacle #24: Electroshock Therapy. This is possibly the Tough Mudder’s most famous obstacle, and the one that causes the most trepidation. There were a couple of people that may have joined the Arsenal if not for the dangling, electrified wires you have to run through to get to the finish. Hay bales and a layer of ankle deep water added another element of danger.

We charged. Bob, Jicha, and I all took light zaps to the shoulder. Erick got one on the arm. Steve caught a couple light shocks too, but nothing too extreme.

(Tim Russell gets Tased)

Tim Russell on the other hand got the big backhand from Electroshock Therapy. Tim caught a wire right on the ear, a couple of us heard the pop. The next thing Tim knew, he was a few feet from the finish line. Electroshock Therapy knocked out approximately 20 seconds worth of Tim’s short term memory. But in that instant, all that mattered was getting that orange headband.

The finishing area was full of smiling faces, every last one sopping wet and caked in mud, happily sporting the coveted orange headbands. Volunteers passed out water, sports drink, cliff bars, and most importantly Dos Equis. A Most Interesting Man In the World banner proclaimed that anything requiring you to sign a death waiver is probably worth doing.

We staggered through the chaos of the finishing area. Michelle and Abby found us, and held shirts while we went to hose off the worst of the mud in the Tough Mudder “shower” area, a platform off to the side of the finish line with dozens of garden hoses connected to a water truck.

The shuttle bus back to the Ford plant was thankfully very warm. No Rhianna or Chris Brown on this ride, though I imagine all the elated story telling of brave deeds, tragic spills, and camaraderie would have drowned it out anyway. No one walked away without some manner of injury, scuff or bruise, but the licking of wounds would be for another day.

For now, the Atwell Arsenal had conquered the Amherst Quarries and the Ohio/Michigan Tough Mudder, and it was time for a well-deserved Brew Kettle feast.

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1 Day to Go - Uniform Unveiling!

Ohio Tough Mudder Team Apparel
Brought to you by Customink.com and 2011 Fashion Star champion Mitch Clifton
Take to the quarries in style with your fully customized team jersey. High visibility names and numbers will help you keep teammates in site and let spectators to pick you out of a crowd. Made of a space-age Kevlar and Teflon blend, these shirts are designed to easily shed mud and be 100% bullet proof (disclaimer: actual results may vary). Your Atwell Arsenal team jersey will have you looking and feeling foxy from the top of the highest monkey bar to the depths of the deepest quarry.
Want to keep the team spirit going even after the Tough Mudder is done? Introducing the Atwell Arsenal casual line. Get down with your bad self as you limp from the parking lot into the bar. The shirts are black to create a slimming effect, sure to mask your post-race celebration weight gain. Use the long sleeves to wipe your mouth when you don’t have the hand strength left to grip a napkin.
Available for the first time in America, it is the Atwell Arsenal’s new line of club wear. Hit the night in style in this shirt that is sure to make you the bell of the ball. Logo printing available in sequenced or with new photoreactive inks that glow under a black light. See what the buzz in Milan and Paris has been all about. Limited release available new in Soho, Orange County, and Parma. Available nationwide this May.

The Countdown!

We are three… count them… THREE days from what could be the greatest day in any of our lives (including you, the reader). The Ohio Tough Mudder, located in the famous Amherst Quarries “Sandstone Capital of the World”, kicks off this Saturday. As we count down the days in distress and anxiety, the Ohio Tough Mudder course is having the finishing touches applied. The Devil’s in the details, and in this case the details take the form of barbed wire, greased monkey bars, and bottomless quarries. It is said that while the Amherst Quarries welcome all to challenge its depths, it gives back only a select few. The Atwell Arsenal sets off for adventure/despair at 9:00 AM sharp!

With race day rapidly approaching, we have two important items that can’t wait a moment longer.

First off and most importantly, the Atwell Arsenal blog staff wish to extend a heartfelt get well soon to Pam, Matriarch of the Beaugrand clan and wife of our Commander-And-Chief Bob-O-Licious.

Her supermom powers have tested lately with an unexpected surgery, but she is now home and on the mend. Eye witnesses report that she was up at 5AM shoveling Ohio’s annual April snow storm from the driveway, and that she didn’t even need a coat. Get well soon Pam and everyone at the Atwell Arsenal looks forward to seeing you after the race! You are a SERIOUSLY Tough Mudder!

The other announcement is that Saturday marked the official release of ‘Arsenal Ale’, official beer of the Atwell Arsenal Tough Mudder team. We teamed up with The Brew Kettle to craft a beer worthy of the race. Plentiful hops to give you that extra kick to get you over any 12 foot walls in your path, dark as the blackest mud the quarries can throw at you, and sporting a high enough alcohol content to numb the pain after the Tough Mudder is complete… provided you survive.

Located in Strongsville, Ohio just off Pearl Road, The Brew Kettle is Ohio’s best brew pub and smoke house. The Atwell Arsenal recently named The Brew Kettle as their official post-race celebration location. See you there Saturday, between 1 and 2pm!

Arsenal Ale, the post-Mudder beer of choice. It’ll have you saying “Man, come get me… one.”

(legal disclaimer: The Brew Kettle is in no way affiliated nor does it condone the actions/behavior of the Atwell Arsenal. Any rebroadcast, retransmission, or accounts of the game is prohibited without the expressed written consent of Major League Baseball. Please drink responsibly.)

Go get 'em, Stella!

Good luck and God bless the Atwell Arsenal’s Toughest Mudder Stella as she gets her tonsils out today. It will all be worth it when you’re chowing down on ice cream this afternoon. We recommend Honey Hut or Mitchell's. Watch out for the Rocky Road though, it’s got chunks!

The Atwell Arsenal team would also like to extend our best wishes to the entire Allen family. Look forward to seeing you guys again after the race.

Lastly, Allison, we want to personally reassure you that we’ll keep Erick safe and injury free next Saturday in order to keep his post-race whining to a minimum.

(Stella prepped and ready. If our uniform order wasn’t already in, I think we would be getting Tiger smocks for the race)

Wanted: Saturday Ohio Tough Mudder (Luke Walton Excluded)

With only ten days until the Ohio Tough Mudder, the Atwell Arsenal is releasing an all-points bulletin.

We want you to join the Atwell Arsenal.

First, let's set the stage. A few weeks back the Atwell Arsenal managed to lure one of the season's most sought after free agents, Jenna Beaugrand, to their ranks. Part Wolverine, part Hudson Explorer, and forged on the soccer fields of Ohio, Jenna brought an impressive pedigree to a team that finally had found their ringer. Her acquisition was kept on a strictly need to know basis, a secret weapon to be unveiled at the Quarries, and her mudder profile was kept classified. Jenna's presence also brought the team's dangerously-close-to-forty average age to a much more formidable 36.5 years young. Truly the future was looking bright.

And then one week ago tragedy struck. In a freak kettle ball class training accident, Jenna's ankle buckled beneath her. The medics rushed to her aid. Jenna tried to wave them away and walk it off, but the torn tissue in her ankle would have none of it. Through grinding teeth and eyes too proud to cry, Jenna Beaugrand had no choice but to concede the 2012 Ohio Tough Mudder was out of reach.

And we find ourselves in a dilemma. Her race fee is non-refundable, leaving a poor, off-to-college Jenna down $150 before she buys her first book.

But maybe some good can come from this tragedy. You see, the Saturday Ohio Tough Mudder is now officially sold out, or as we say in the biz “all the body bags have been reserved.” If you'd been putting off signing up, you would have suddenly found yourself S.O.L. But now you can be a hero to your kids, impress your spouse, earn the accolades/looks of disbelief from your co-workers, and send a poor girl off to college with enough cash for a keg of Busch Light and the tap deposit. You can step in and take Jenna's spot. We would prefer if the participant had some history or connection to the Atwell Arsenal, but at this point beggars can't be choosers.

Please comment to this post if you'd like to step up and take the challenge!

However, there is one person we would like to officially un-invite from joining the team. Luke Walton, stay the hell away.

If you're not familiar with Luke Walton, imagine a profession basketball player with the raw athleticism of of your grandmother, the ball handling skills of the family dog, a 4” vertical leap and hands that make soccer players jealous. In other words, Luke Walton sucks.

Most athletes have to be seen in person to be appreciated. Football hits look harder, basketball players jump higher, soccer player's feet are faster live than on the television. Luke Walton is the antithesis to this idea. Don't get me wrong, I never thought he was any good, just rode his father's reputation to a basketball career. But after seeing him “run” up and down the court for his 11 minutes of action during garbage time, struggling for breath harder than he fought for the ball, I concluded we were witnessing one of two things:

Either 1) Luke Walton has severe hay-fever that this glorious early spring is really wrecking havoc on, or 2) this big bucket of shit is a professional athlete making over 5 million dollars a year yet probably couldn't run a mile in under 15 minutes, do 20 push-ups, or go a week without ice cream.

Now I know why Kobe has such an attitude. If the fruits of my labor had gotten stupid Luke Walton a ring, I'd be pissed off too.

So don't bother applying, Luke Walton. Unless you're buying the celebratory food and drinks at the Brew Kettle after the race. Then I guess we can pretend you're not a big tool.

Ohio Tough Mudder - Course Introduction

Even with Spain’s bloody conquest raging around them, Mayan wise men saw to their ancient duty. As smoke rose from the burning jungles of the Yucatan Peninsula the seers looked to the heavens, tracked star patterns, and sought enlightenment from a source we still do not understand today. Their final prediction would become their most famous.

2012, the year of world's ending.

But there was more to their prophesy, a second half. New information has recently come to light, kept in secret for hundreds of years by a still functioning sect of the Spanish Inquisition. The tale of how a time-traveling Tim Russell recovered the documents, fought off a drunken gang of Templars, and indirectly inspired the creation of the polio vaccine is a story for another day. What’s important to note now is that through painstaking research, translation, and good old fashioned jumping to conclusions, the Atwell Arsenal made a discovery.

The second half of the prophesy spoke of a location tied directly to the Mayan's 2012 prophecy. A barren place, scarred and wounded by the hands of man. One where immense suffering would transpire. But those strong enough to survive the forge of suffering would be like tempered steel, and be destined for forever greatness.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we proudly introduce to you the culmination of the Mayan 2012 prophesy and your Ohio Tough Mudder course location, the South Amherst Quarries.

“I have seen the abyss. Rivers alight in flame mark the way. Just west of a great mistake upon a lake. A lone buckeye tree grows within. “ - excerpt from Dante's Inferno, speaking of South Amherst.

South Amherst, derived from the Greek root words for “below”, “hearse”, and “Am hurt”, literally has come to mean death. A fitting place for the End of Day's origin.

There is no stronger evidence of the forthcoming apocalypse/pole shift/meteor strike than this year's weather in Ohio. As October approached, Cleveland residents wisely stocked the pantry and dusted off coats it seemed they'd only just put away. Another winter on the way. Another 7 months of wind chill, lake effect, and iced over power lines. But then something strange happened. Winter never arrived. And now here we are in March, experiencing 80 degree temperatures with negligible humidity. Clearly this is the calm before the storm.

The yawning quarry pits were formed by centuries of rock excavated for predominately one purpose: the construction of tombstones. Legend tells that for each headstone carved from the quarry's rock, the pits of South Amherst demand a life. And as modern safety excavation methods have improved and the average age of a quarry worker going from 11 in the 1840s to 44 in the 2000s, the quarries have been running a deficit. What better way to even the score than to send thousands of yahoos in Tough Mudder gear through a 12 mile circuit of pain, torture, and dismemberment?

The Atwell Arsenal does not go forth to face certain death unprepared. No no. Not only have they been doing extensive Ohio Tough Mudder training, they've also got a few aces up their sleeves. For the last several years their surveyors have performed painstaking field operations in and around the quarries, charting the topography and features of the site, preparing for the Ohio Tough Mudder. In addition, the Atwell Arsenal is being advised in the art of mental calmness and focus by their unflappable Zen master, Thrill.I.Am Boron. “Here’s what you do. Picture in your mind the task at hand already complete, envision its ending,” Thrill.I.Am advises, “and you shall see it to fruition, even as you repeat the Mantra. It’s done. It’s done.”

To conclude our introduction of the quarries, here with his own alternative take on the Mayan prophesy is renowned scholar and historian, Prof. Daniel Poindexter Jicha III:
“The Mayan Civilization is truly only remembered for one reason: Their end of the world prediction. Of course, this is interpreted from their calendars ending on December 2012.

A bit of background for the less informed. The Mayan civilization began in 2000 B.C. and lasted until about 1700 A.D., cultivating a rich culture and belief system. All born into this society were given a specific task, an assigned series of traits to develop if you will. Men could be warriors, collectors and gatherers, cooks, tribal leaders, and entertainers. The women were mainly viewed as sex objects and a way to procreate, though there were exceptions.

A select few Mayans were given the responsibility of keeping track of time, mainly through charting the sun’s path, and observing the location of the stars and moon in the night sky. In doing this, they were able to put together something similar to what we know today as a calendar. This calendar stops in 2012, a little over 300 years after the Mayan civilization was wiped out through war and disease and cultural blending.

Some viewed this as a prophesy for the end of the world. I prefer to call it what it is…..and what it is is simple. Near the close of their illustrious empire’s reign, a tribe leaders turned to a calendar maker and, through a series of clicking noises and whistles, says ‘Hey calendar maker. I think you’ve got enough damn calendars for now, don’t you think? Pizarro’s coming over those hills, let’s go get crunk on fermented Papaya juice.’ And off they went to their nearest stone-stepped pyramid to get hammered drunk and eat bat guano”

Atwell Arsenal - Special Japan Edition

Apologies for the lack of updates everyone, and specifically in the delay of getting this story up. Most of it was written between dreams on a transcontinental flight, so the big challenge was piecing together a pile of rambling incoherent thoughts. Here goes...

With the Ohio Tough Mudder exactly 1 month away, we offer this special International Edition - Japan Tough Mudder training of the Atwell Arsenal Mudder Blog. We will return to our regularly scheduled nonsense shortly, but for now -

Our hero woke to the sound of ducks squawking from an I-Phone ringtone. 5:45. The snooze button only served to delay those damned ducks another nine minutes, but did nothing to make the torrential downpour outside slow.

In the Land of the Rising Sun, all was doused by rain.

Justin wanted nothing more than to shut that phone off and return to dreams of sake, Geisha, and Buddist driven enlightenment. But on the second to last morning of his adventure to the eastern rim of the world, he knew the time for a run was now or never. Japan Tough Mudder training couldn't be canceled by a little rain.

The hotel doorman's face spoke words that no language barrier could obstruct. His mouth said “Ohayo Goizaimas! Eh... Jogging?” but his baffled expression said “Good morning, sir! You're going running? In this weather? Ya'll Americans must be out your damn mind!”

Justin winced, accepting the question of his own sanity with a simple reply of “Ohayo. Hai. Domo arigato.” Translation, again, with additional words added for facial expressions: “Good morning. Yes. I am bat shit crazy and don't understand why I am doing this either. I will probably catch pneumonia and ruin the last days of my trip, not to mention make that 26 hour travel day back home an absolute hell. Please contact the authorities, I should be institutionalized. Thank you very much.”

With words both spoken and unsaid, Justin stepped from beneath the safety of the pavilion and into the driving rain.

“It doesn't have to be a long run” Justin told himself as he headed southeast from his hotel at the doorstep of Nijo Castle http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nijo_castle “Just two miles or so.” With all lines of communication to his teammates cut off, Justin could only hope that his own lack of Tough Mudder training diligence in the last week hadn't been reflected by the other members of the Atwell Arsenal. With no phone service and no access to the accountability text system, for all he knew they could have relapsed. Steve's traps and lats could be withering from dissuse. Jicha could be back on his 6-donuts a day diet, and Tim could be back to watching Thigh Master infomercials.

(Steve's name in Japanese, along with literal translation)

Japan, or Rappan as it is known to the Czechs, still slept. Even for this hard working culture, cars and commuters were scarce on Kyoto's rain soaked streets. Here and there a brave soul dashed from subway station to building awning. A few brave citizens faced the elements from the back of their bicycles, one hand holding umbrella against the rain and clutching handlebars with the other, dodging puddles. Every step came through gritted teeth as the rain soaked through Justin's hat, shirt, and shoes.

But then something remarkable happened. The Land of the Rising Sun lived up to its name.

At once the rain stopped and the sky lightened before Justin's eyes. The Sanjo Ohashi Bridge over the Kamogawa River, where Justin had thought originally he'd call it off for the day, came into sight. As he warmed from both sun and distance, Justin decided he would do some exploring.

He turned southeast into the historically artistic and famously mysterious Gion. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gion Narrow streets with nary a taxi or pedestrian in sight were both welcoming and suppressive. In a few hours these streets would be filled with shoppers, both tourist and local, but for now Justin had it all to himself. The stone-paved street seemed to scold him for his footsteps disturbing the silence. Red lanterns hung over sealed doorways, promoting a world of food, drink, and crafts, and within the two-storied o-chaya, 'teahouses', the Geisha slumbered.

(A street in Gion)

Justin continued south and east. Past more historic shrines, temples, and buildings, down twisting streets still damp from the overnight rain. Some structures and streets bore grand histories with their histories recorded in history books and travelers guides. Justin passed the Kennin-ji temple (oldest Buddhist temple in Kyoto), the Yasaka Pagoda, and many other sites he was likely too ignorant to recognize. Some of the most beautiful and unique buildings were simply people's homes, with family run shops and restaurants.

One particularly striking feature came while running down a side street no more than 10 feet across. Justin had to duck (true, that may not be saying much) to get under a small footbridge that connected the house on one side of the alleyway to a garden and seating area on the other. A small sign hung in the window, and Justin again pondered how anyone could live full time as illiterate. Unable to read any of the many signs, signals, and notices was probably the most frustrating part of his trip.

The road began to rise. Soon it would be time to turn around, for there was a full day of sights to be seen, food to be tasted, and history to be absorbed with his parents, brother, new sister, and friend. For now, he charged up the hill. Up and up. Justin noted how on flat streets the sidewalks were lined with smooth stones, but here on the hill rougher stones had been placed for better tread. Finally the climb ended at a great staircase and Justin looked up, stunned by the site.

(Steps and outbuildings of Kiyomizu-dera, and brother)

The gateway and pagoda that led to Kiyomizu-dera towered overhead. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiyomizu-dera The independent Buddhist temple, originally built over 600 years before Columbus had even thought of setting sail, Kiyomizu-dera had been constructed around a waterfall and built without a single nail. It’s foundations resembled he most amazing Lincoln logs you’ve ever seen. The day before he’d visited, along with his family and several hundred tourists who'd packed the streets leading to the temple. Without the throngs of people, and the store fronts selling ice cream, hand fans, and other traditional trinkets all closed up at this early hour, Justin had not even recognized the climb up to one of Kyoto's most visited sites. A pair of happy pilgrims smiled and nodded a greeting as Justin's feet slowed to a stop, his gaze rising to the temple peaks. The sun had only just crested over the trees and hills behind the ancient temple and its vermilion gates and pagodas.

(The Kiyomizu-dera complex)

He would have stayed longer, soaking in the serenity of the moment, but a glance at his watch said he'd barely get back in time to meet the family for breakfast. Justin turned west and headed back toward the hotel. Fueled by nearly a week's worth of green tea, fresh fish, some of the best steak he'd ever eaten, and sweet bean treats, Justin flew through the quickly crowding streets. One more day's worth of adventure awaited before it was time to pack up for home, and he didn't want to be late.

Find more Run in Kyoto Prefecture

(Our hero, fooling around in Gion later that day)

Future Events And An Official Announcement

Even with race day still over 7 weeks away, some members of the team have already begun pondering what the next adventure will be. And some of our audience has started to think that maybe they’d like to jump in for the next one. So like any responsible Tough Mudder blog, we want to help encourage you to take one on.

The first event on the horizon is Cleveland Marathon weekend, May 19th and 20th. Some of you just dropped your coffee. Trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds. With races ranging from a 5k all the way up to the 26.2 mile monster, there's a challenge suited for just about everyone. Atwell Arsenal team members, if you've ever thought about running a half-marathon this would be a great reason to continue your training after the Tough Mudder and the epic celebratory feast/beer binge .

The next race on our radar is trying out a Warrior Dash. For those unacquainted, a Warrior Dash is like the Tough Mudder’s shorter, Viking-themed, little brother. More specifically it’s a 5k mud run through a dozen or so obstacles. This summer there are two chances to take it on. The first is June 2nd and 3rd about an hour southeast of Columbus. The other option is August 25th at a site halfway between Massillon and Akron, aka right in our backyard. For more info, hit their site: http://warriordash.com Please let me know if you’re thinking of signing up for either or both, and we can start hyping that branch of the Atwell Arsenal as well.

Others are thinking “Screw this road racing and short course events. If these guys can train up and do a Tough Mudder, why can’t I?”

Well you are in luck. In the distant autumn, in far away Maryland, members of the Atwell Arsenal are already after a second helping of the glory to be consumed down in the quarries. On September 8th and 9th Tough Mudder is holding a race in Frederick, Maryland . For those of you without a calendar, that's over 6 months away. You can train to do ANYTHING in 6 months. The best part is Maryland in September will almost certainly be warmer than Ohio in April. Consider that another perk. And lastly, there will be a whole team of us with Tough Mudder tips and wisdom to bestow upon the masses. You'd be stupid NOT to do it!

While discussing the prospect of attacking Maryland next, Tim Russell cited the Tough Mudder tattoo policy of “Tattoos of our logo for anyone tough enough to want one will be available for $70. Send your receipt to info@toughmudder.com and we’ll give you a free entry to a Tough Mudder of your choice in 2012. Customize it by having the event date and location put on–keep adding as you go to record all your epic Mudder adventures”, and wondered aloud if anyone else was thinking of getting inked up.

Erick quickly quipped. “Can it be temporary? Can it be a dolphin?”
After an awkward moment, the team politely requested that Erick sit the next couple of plays out.
Awkwardness and dolphins aside, please consider this post as the official announcement:

In September the Atwell Arsenal will be taking this circus on the road, to Crumland Farm in Frederick MD to take on the Maryland Tough Mudder, and we’d love to have you on the team. Apologies in advance to the entire state of Maryland.

(Note: Not Erick's tattoo.)

Meet the Mudders - Steve Conway!

At long last, it's time for the highlight of everyone's week. Say hello to Steve Conway



Name – Steve Conway
Mudder Name – Vertebrae
Known Immunities – Asbestos, Radiation, Sadness
Favorite Movie – Back Draft, Back to the Future
Ethnicity – Irish by blood, American by adoption, Tough Mudder by choice
Favorite Song – Back in Black, AC-DC
Favorite direction – Lateral. You thought it would be back, didn't you?
Favorite in car positioning: Backseat
Favorite quote: “Conway, it means big sexy in Ireland, but in the States it just means Conway”
If Steve were an amoeba, what’s the first thing he’d do: Grow a back bone
Little known fact: Steve does not give a shit about the Honey Badger. Given the chance, he’ll prove it by completely ignoring that youtube video.
Best At What Tough Mudder Obstacle: Any that don’t involve wedging his enormous lats through a confined space

Today's Mudder of the Week is a triple threat – brawn, brains, and beauty. When he's not knocking out three hours on the rowing machine, he's off on whirlwind adventures throughout Ohio and Pennsylvania looking for asbestos in people’s ceilings and contaminated oil drums in their yard.

Steve had no choice but to grow up tough. The eighth of nine children, Steve's beginnings were humble as the pie bearing the same name. His father, Seamus O'Grady McStewart Conway, arrived on Ellis Island with his small Irish Catholic family, only two mason jars of Guinness and a potato to his name. But using his Conway wits and silver Irish tongue, Seamus traveled from swap meet to swap meet across the USA, and traded his way to a comfortable life for his family.

Potato → Unsharpened pencil
Unsharpened pencil and 1 moldy Guinness → Three left shoes
Three left shoes → Two soiled cowboy hats and a Christmas tie
(editor's note: several thousand trades omitted due to word count limit)
1 Ferrari (red), 10,000 shares of Chef Boy-R-Dee stock, and 1 moldy, nearly solidified, Guinness (half drank) → House with white picket fence, college education for six kids, vocational school tuition for the other three, 1 case expired Slim Fast

Steve and his father always had a tenuous relationship. That is until Nazis kidnapped Seamus, trying to get the noted environmentalist to decode an ancient tome said to hold the key to locating the Holy Grail. Steve pursued his father's captors across the Atlantic, simultaneously battling Nazis and an ancient sect dedicated to the Grail's protection. Spoiler alert, the Nazis shoot Seamus at the gateway to the hidden temple, and Indy... er, I mean Steve Conway... has no choice but to venture inside to save his father. You'll have to Netflix it to find out how the story ends (the traitor girl dies, and you find out Steve was named after the dog).

On another adventure, while environmentalisting through an abandoned building in Cleveland's historic Egyptian quarter, Steve made a startling discovery. Scrawled into the thick black mold coating the basement were irregular yet distinctive markings. Utilizing his photographic memory, Steve memorized the hieroglyphics and their sequence. With the frequent flyer miles racked up during previous adventures, Steve caught a plane to the British Museum to visit the Rosetta Stone.

With his mastery of the ancient Greek language Steve decoded the hieroglyphics and made an amazing discovery: the secret of the pyramids' construction wasn't primitive tools, massive amounts of slave labor, or divine intervention. The true key was the immense back strength of Egypt's people. By Steve's calculations, King Tut would have been able to carry at least two – 6 ton blocks on his meaty shoulders. And like some television infomercial workout program, the hieroglyphics showed how you too could get the back strength you'd always dreamed about with clear step by step instructions.

Steve is now developing his own workout regime, P-Nile-X, based on his discovery. While he's been successful in replicating all the moves, the diet plan is proving tricky; there's just not a reliable source for the locusts, blood water, or raining frogs in the United States. Steve has recently been spotted consulting with Tony Horton -famed Beach Body trainer and P90X creator- on developing a supplement to provide these vital nutrients. Look for “Pharaoh Fuel - Conway’s Max Back Attack” meal replacement bars in stores this Fall, and look for Steve Conway at the Tough Mudder in the South Amherst Quarries on April 14th. He’ll be the one with the huge back, rocking the shake-weight between obstacles.



(Steve Conway - Sun's Out, Guns Out)

Pardon Our Mess

Apologies for the delay! Work deadlines have created a temporary delay of this week's Meet the Mudder. Check back soon to read all about our friend and your soon-to-be favorite Mudder, Steeeeeeve Conway!