A Race to Remember: Spartan Sprint Seattle 2025


The Bucket Carry

It’s said that every Spartan Race is different, figuratively and literally. Each venue has its quirks and unique set-up which challenge a racer’s ability to adapt, mentally and physically. From race to race, even the weather can vary significantly. The 2025 Seattle Spartan Race in Monroe, WA lived up to this assessment, to say the least.

I’d been looking forward to this race having last run in the Phoenix Sprint two years ago, a race so miserable due to the weather that day (50°F cloudy and raining!) I will never forget it. While that last race was no exception, there always comes a point in the Spartan Race where I ask myself The Question, “Why am I doing this?” a question that prevailed more so in Phoenix than in any other previous race. Despite that, I still placed well in the Phoenix Sprint both in my age group and overall (according to my own somewhat nebulous

For Those Who Cannot
standards) but felt I could do better. Thus, among my goals this time around was to place well – whatever that really means – and to avoid asking myself, “Why am I doing this?” during the event. My training and nutritional program for this 5K/3.2 miler was top-notch and I truly felt I was ready to go all out, a statement I’ll revisit in short order. This race was personal to me as well, running for those who cannot, my loved ones – family and friends – who have passed away both recently and distantly and whose names I carried with me in the race, written on my kinesio-tape. Mortality has been on my mind often as of late and so I was running in their memory, because I still can, and letting their memories motivate me.

Unfortunately, the organization of the event was clusterfuck, a phrase my departed Army friends would have appreciated. Driving into the event was a nightmare not simply for the reality that is Seattle traffic but these events are always held in remote areas outside the designated city which can make traffic problems exponentially worse. On top of that, the parking situation was given into the hands of pimply-faced teenagers who didn’t seem to care much whether you found parking or not. My start time was post for noon, but there was no way I was making that given the incoming traffic and the slug-like speed with which the registration booths were taking.* Waiting in line did give me time to converse with a young black woman who was racing for the first time, and it made me feel like a wily veteran giving a young buck pro-tips. Frankly, this may have been the best part of the event.

[*Note to future Spartan racers; if you miss your designated start time, no problem. You can start in any wave after your scheduled slot.]

Moments before the insanity
Finally through the registration gates, I noticed racers lining up for the 12:15 wave. I thought about waiting for the 12:30 wave so I’d have time to study the on-site course map, but it was getting quite warm and humid for the Seattle area so I might as well start sooner rather than later. (Annoyingly, when I studied the course map post-race, I discovered the map was from 2024 and not reflective of today’s race AT ALL!) I decided to start as soon as possible as I also took the weather into consideration; it’s a factor in a Spartan Race seeing how you don’t want to drink too much water because of the heat else the water is sloshing around your stomach while you’re running, a nuisance I discovered in my first race years ago.

I ran to line up for the race and almost winded myself before the race even began, but that probably had more to do with panicking about not making it through the registration line in time. And, in an unusual move for me, I waited near the back of the heat since there were so many people racing today, a strategy I’d live to regret as I typically like to weasel my way up front because I don’t like people in front of me when I’m running. (Turns out, yes, people got in my way. C’est la vie, I suppose.) At any rate, the emcee begins their pre-race spiel, during which he said, “You guys are ready? You trained hard for this 3.2-mile race, right? Well, guess what? Today you’re getting your money’s worth because we’ve added an extra mile!” The emcee’s glee was drowned out by the crowd’s collective groan. Sometimes it seems the event organizers delight in their malevolence by disguising it as benevolence. Then the race began.

Not less than two minutes into the race, some twenty-something gentleman next to me noted he too was racing for the first time and asked me, should he need any help, if I had his back. He looked like he was in shape for his age, but sure, I suppose I would help a fellow racer since I’ve been helped before. (In fact, almost everyone needs a hand through the Rolling Mud obstacle and comradery is a part of the Spartan Race experience.) In my mind, though, I said I’d help provided I was THERE to help, if he could keep up. So we’re running and he’s making small talk – BTW WHY ARE YOU TALKING SAVE YOUR BREATH YOU’RE GOING TO NEED IT AND OMG THIS TRAIL IS SO DIVITED AND FULL OF ROOTS – at some point he asks me, “Hey, are you a man of faith?” Now that I’m used to living in an age where nothing surprises me anymore, without skipping a beat and not wanting to be offensive before we’ve even made it to the first obstacle, I told him I was agnostic. “What does that mean?” he asked. Really? My inner dialogue asked. “It basically means I don’t think the existence of any god can be proven or disproven.” After a short pause he said, “But look at the world around us. Isn’t it amazing?” I made some remark about how I was a philosophy major in college and what he’s using is known as the Design Argument, one of the worst arguments in theism. My inner dialogue once again wanted to know why we were talking, let alone about THIS. He was quiet for a little while after that and didn’t broach the topic again, staying with me over the first obstacles of 6’ walls and log hurdles. Having rolled my right ankle over the second hurdle I was momentarily happy he was still with me as it allowed me to ignore the pain this early in the proceedings. He even stayed with me through the Monkey Bars (where I almost slipped off, phew!) and Atlas Carry, my worst ‘carry’ obstacle but one I’ve always managed while he was a youngster so didn’t struggle much with it.

I wound up losing him after we hit the mud pits not long after that as the pits really slow most racers

Rolling Mud
down. Given today’s heat and humidity, I was actually happy to cool off in them after initially planning to go around them and suffer extra running through the penalty loop which probably would have been faster, all things considered. I also find the dunk wall at the end of the mud pits one of my favorite places in the race, as many racers are inexplicably scared to fully submerge themselves in muddy water and swim to the other side of the wall. “Don’t think, just do it!” I enjoy yelling.

After another quarter mile or so of running we came to some of the more challenging obstacles like the sandbag carry, barbed-wire crawl, and bucket carry. I specifically trained for the sandbag- and bucket carries and passed many racers during each obstacle. I was quite relieved during the bucket carry in particular that their bucket was much lighter than the one I trained with. When I first picked up the bucket, I actually thought I’d picked up the women’s bucket by mistake because it was so light! (I didn’t make a mistake, but maybe the person who filled the bucket did? I’ll take it.) I also passed a lot of racers going under the barbed-wire. People were getting gassed as the crawl was uphill and an unreasonable length in my opinion, probably about 50-yards long. I didn’t train for the barbed-wire crawl but it’s never been a problematic obstacle to me, though when I did have time to ‘roll-through’ near the end of it I got up rather dizzy and it took me maybe 30 seconds to recover from. It was at this point I almost asked myself The Question but instead reminded myself that this was for Those Who Cannot. I got a burst of energy for about a minute or so, even through the new obstacle ‘Armer’ which is like carrying the concrete ball in the Atlas Carry except that this concrete ball has a handle. (NOT on the obstacle list for this race, btw.)

The race went smoothly through the second and third quarters despite the number of racers being an obstacle in itself, at least until there was a chokepoint where you rappel down a dirt wall. We all spent probably a good 15-20 minutes waiting to take turns going down the ropes since it was probably the most dangerous part of the event given how steep and far down you had to go. I didn’t have a problem doing the obstacle on my end but it was slow going if you didn’t want to kill yourself or fall on other people.

After the rope climb down, it seemed most people around me were pretty tired as we entered the extra mile. Having done extra running to train for this race I still had energy to pass people, most of whom were walking by now. But, I may have made a mistake being so ambitious as I’d come to see, though I had no problem with the following obstacle the Hercules Hoist where the sandbag I’m hoisting weighs almost as much as I do. In a proud moment, the muscly guy next to me remarked how heavy the bag was (“120lbs!” I yelled as I hoisted) and finished the task before him. But maybe this was the moment I blew myself out?

From there it was a short run to the Multi-Rig which is mostly gymnastic rings. I expected to fail crossing them (as its my nemesis obstacle) because the rings are too big for my grip and are usually slippery from mud. True to form, I slipped off the metal tube you’re supposed to shimmy along half-way through and took a penalty loop. The Spear Throw came up next, an obstacle most racers fail. I nailed it in the last two races so I was quite peeved when my shot was the perfect pitch and distance but veered to the right. The penalty was 30 burpees this time and most of my competitors were DYING by now. As I faithfully did my burpees, as usual most people around me were not doing all 30 of them. Sorry, but that’s a pet peeve of mine. Your burpees are on the honor system as the obstacle volunteer can’t watch everyone, but it seems not everyone has honor. Anyway, my legs were cooked by now.

When I got to the rope climb next my legs decided to say, “Fuck you, we’re not helping you after all those burpees,” and my arms didn’t have enough left in them to muscle my way up. I recognized this right away and ran off into the penalty loop to which my legs cried, “Why, whyyyyyy?!” That was followed up with the Z-Wall which features small hand- and foot holds which you have to stay on as you navigate around a Z-shaped wall, hence the name of the obstacle. I guess I was overconfident having never slipped off this one before and came off the obstacle around its first corner. Another penalty loop, dammit! Stupid!

By now I was beating myself up for failing a record four obstacles in a row. But the race was almost over. It was just a brief sprint up to and over the A-Frame cargo net and book for the finish line. Oh, I ran, I ran like a goddamn Pink Floyd song. FUCK, that was brutal. I won’t say it was as tough as the Phoenix race, but still. I raised a middle finger and said, “Never again, Seattle!” At least finding my wife after the race was easy; she thought I was dead not knowing an extra mile had been added to the race and was wilting in the heat herself. I felt relatively fine post-event, thinking that given all my training I’d recover quickly. I learned the next day that was not going to be true as my wife death marched me sightseeing around Seattle to the tune of 11-miles. My shoulders, my quads, my shins, my ankles, my feet…Jesus! Wait, sorry, I’m not a man of ‘faith.’  

This guy's expression said it all, lol!

I don’t know if I’ll do another Spartan Race. Probably, but I’ve been put off by the lack of organization this year and how the event tries to nickel-and-dime you, making you pay for your event photographs whereas they never did before for, for example. I realize an event of this magnitude is not cheap to hold, but still, give me a break.

In the end, I’m generally happy with my results though not finishing in the top three in my age group is going to annoy me for the next year probably. Who knows what’ll happen from here.

It was well over 5K, people









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