“I’m approaching 50 myself … and already know looking at some obstacles that I can’t envision myself completing without falling … but I’m going to try.”
Those were the fateful words of fellow Belmont dad Matt Cassello back in February, and they helped convince me to run the Savage Race, a 5.9-mile obstacle course race in Barre, Mass. Our team — the Ragamuffintops — also included fellow Belmont dads Dan Eldridge and Alon Manela, along with Matt’s millennial nephew Conor Rice (the youngest of our group by at least a decade).
Why would I decide, at nearly 49 years old, to run a race that involved running, climbing, crawling, swinging, lifting, and balancing? I was still asking myself that question this past Saturday as I completed the first obstacle, which was a full submersion into a tank of ice water right before the starting line. I emerged from the dunk with my glasses gone, and there was no getting them back. I would be running the entire race with very blurred vision. Bonus obstacle!
I think my teammates and I could boil our participation down to three reasons:
The Fun
If I were to go to any of Belmont’s many playgrounds and start climbing on the structures, I would almost certainly get some funny looks. I can just hear a puzzled (or concerned) mom saying, “Sir, my 8-year-old would like to swing on the monkey bars now. Could you please get off?”
But I like monkey bars, and sliding, and balancing. Much like parkour, the subject of my first Voice column, an obstacle course like Savage Race is sanctioned, acceptable adult play time. Besides, with a team name like “Ragamuffintops,” complete with custom shirts designed by Matt’s daughter Natalie, we were clearly there to have fun.
The Camaraderie
There’s no way I could have run this race on my own. For months, my teammates motivated each other to train, and during the race, we rooted for each other constantly. Conor could have finished the race with a much faster time, but he kept running backwardson the route to cheer us old guys on. I didn’t know some of the people on this team very well before this race, but now we’re bonded.
The Challenge
Some of the older generations, including my own, have griped about younger generations getting “participation trophies.” Back in our day, you only got a medal if you won. Perhaps I was once such a griper. But the truth is, when you’re doing something for the first time, it’s hard. And putting yourself out there takes guts, and that deserves a reward.
Now, as I descend the slope of middle age, things are getting harder. I’m a bit more achy and less physically resilient than I used to be. Some of the obstacles on this course were downright scary.
So yes, I do want to be rewarded for just mustering the courage to try something like this race. My teammates and I attempted every obstacle. None of us succeeded at every one. I failed about 20% of them, getting dunked in some gross water, multiple times. By the time I jumped over a wall of fire to cross the finish line, I had no qualms about putting the finisher medal around my neck. I’d challenged myself, and won.
A few hours later, after getting cleaned up and hydrated, Matt asked if I’d be up for doing it next year. I hesitated at the time––my new bruises were just beginning to blossom. But yes, obviously I would do it next year. The Ragamuffintops will rise again, and maybe we can convince some others to join our ranks.
Eric J. Perkins writes about Gen X for The Belmont Voice. When he’s not vaulting over brick walls, he’s the Director of Transformation at Addgene, a life sciences nonprofit in Watertown.
