But, this morning my uncle sent me a news article about his son, my cousin, which made me feel like a bit of a sniveling baby for even bothering to complain about Sunday's run....Read on. This is a feat I can safely bet I will never attempt, and if I did, would almost undoubtedly fail. But in a little over a week, my cousin Paul will attempt to conquor the "Spartan Death Race."
http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2011/06/12/v-print/2372248/death-race-aboutchallenge-to-ex.html
'Death Race' about challenge to ex-Marine
by Scott Fowler
Occasionally I get to do a good deed with this column. Such is the case today, when I save former combat Marine and current Charlotte resident Paul Habenicht from having to shave off all his body hair.
I have heard a lot of story pitches in my time, but the strangest came recently. Habenicht, 30, is about to compete in the "Spartan Death Race" in rural Vermont, an endurance race unlike any you have ever heard of. Its website is www.YouMayDie.com .
And although the race has never killed anyone and isn't actually supposed to, it features creativity and cruelty in equal doses. You don't know where it starts, you don't know how long it goes, you don't know where it ends and you don't get anything for winning. Only 10-15percent of the contestants finish in any given year.
As part of his prerace requirements, Habenicht either needed to get a story written about him in a local newspaper or come to the race with every bit of his body hair shaved. I know what you're thinking. ... the answer is yes. Every bit of it.
I didn't commit right away. But I did start finding more about the Death Race and Habenicht, who can strike you in a two-minute period as humble, introverted, smart, disciplined and quite confident.
Habenicht served two tours of duty in Afghanistan and one in Iraq as an infantry platoon commander - at one point he directed a sniper platoon and went on nighttime raids in search of "mid-level bad guys," he said. He attributes his survival throughout his 51/2 years as a Marine to the men he led.
But Habenicht, who graduated from the Naval Academy and played four years of lacrosse there, never intended to be a career Marine. He left the Marines in 2007, went to business school at Virginia and took a desk job in Charlotte in 2009 at a boutique mergers and acquisitions firm. He longs for an occasional bit of adventure and danger in his life. Eventually, I thought his story worth telling and his hair worth saving.
'People still hate us'
You never know what you're getting into in a Death Race, which is part of its cult appeal. Habenicht learned of the Death Race's existence after watching a 2009 New York Times online video about it.
One year contestants were told bikes would be essential, which meant many rode hundreds of miles in training and all brought their bikes to Vermont.
Then, when they arrived, contestants had to take the tires and chain off their bikes and carry it for about nine hours on their back through a muddy course. Later, they had to dive into a lake to retrieve their bike chains from zipped plastic bags. Then they had to put the chain and tires back on and ride the bike about 50 yards to show it worked.
"Then we said, 'OK, now you are done with your bikes,'" said race co-founder and co-director Andy Weinberg. "People still hate us for that one."
The race generally lasts close to 48 hours, with one strange task after another. It is part "Survivor," part Monty Python sketch.
Once, contestants had to run up an incredibly steep mountain for a mile, memorize a list of 10 U.S. presidents posted at the top and then come down and recite the list in order. If they missed one, they had to go up the mountain, look at the list and try again.
This year's required "gear list" to pack includes a splitting axe, a saw, a tape measure, a hand drill, a half-inch bit for the drill, some Dixon Ticonderoga No.2 pencils and a live fish.
Sound fun? Habenicht paid $400 to do it. This year's Death Race - the sixth, and by far the biggest - will begin June 24 with about 200 pre-screened contestants.
Said Weinberg, who might not be joking, this one will begin with all the entrants turning in their beloved running shoes and being forced to fashion a wooden pair of shoes using primitive tools. At the finish line, Weinberg said, all contestants will get two things - "a hearty handshake and a bag of manure."
"So in the end, I'm just some idiot guy who signed up for a dumb race," Habenicht said.
He's hardly an idiot - Habenicht has two college degrees and digs the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. But he is an extremist. He has completed several marathons. He occasionally has been known to finish his regular workday in Charlotte at 2:30a.m. and then go home and work out until 4a.m., often running with a large bag of sand inside his backpack, before collapsing into bed.
If you think it sounds like this guy doesn't have children, you'd be right. If you think it sounds like this guy doesn't have a wife or a life, you'd be wrong.
"I guess I'm just used to it," said Caroline Habenicht, Paul's wife - the two grew up together in Richmond, Va. "This is kind of who Paul is - he doesn't do anything halfway. People say, 'Ohmigosh, that Death Race sounds crazy.' But Paul is drawn to extremes. And at least he's not going to Afghanistan again."
Why did Habenicht enter? I asked this question several times and he seemed to have a hard time expressing it in simple terms. I asked again later via email, and he was positively eloquent.
"I like that the Death Race is just about trying to finish," Habenicht wrote. "I often think back to what my former (and best) boss Lt. Col. James Bright used to say: 'You either can, or you cannot.' That's what I like about the Death Race. No T-shirts. No trophies. No hedging. If I don't finish, no big deal - I wasn't supposed to. If I finish (which the odds say I won't), my name ends up on a website that 99.9percent of the population doesn't care about. I like the fact that the results are binary and, in the grand scheme, insignificant to just about everyone on this planet."
Bypassing the 'easy exit'
Weinberg, the race co-founder, said current and former members of the military historically have fared better in the Death Races than almost anyone else.
"Although we call it the Death Race, it's really about living - about testing yourself in ways you've never done before," said Weinberg, who is a schoolteacher by profession and organizes these races with several partners as a hobby. "The race usually breaks people either physically or mentally. Physically, there's a point where we all break. But mentally, the military guys don't break. It's unbelievable."
Habenicht doesn't really know if he will finish - if both his body and mind will hold out. But he has thought a lot about trying to finish.
"If the guys who set up this race are smart," Habenicht said, "they will make it easy to quit. The ease of exit adds a mental challenge. I know a lot of people in my life who have bypassed the 'easy exits.' I look up to those people. Because that's what life is."
All true and rather profound wisdom from the former Marine who now officially has had his hair saved by me writing this story and you reading it.
But I'm still wondering what the guys in Vermont are going to make him do with that live fish.
Ummm WOW is all I can say to this. Good luck to your cousin for being brave enough to do something so big.
ReplyDeleteIs it ridiculous that I kind of want to do this? I have no doubt that I would give up pretty much as soon as they told us what we had to do with the gear list... but it is just SO badass!
ReplyDeleteI suppose it is a bad sign that my first reaction was dismay at the entry requirements, b/c I'm not willing to shave my head.