Meanwhile, the endurance-racing world underwent a metamorphosis. It
all began in 1989, when Frenchman Gerard Fusil launched his
grueling Raid Gauloises. The unique event combined outdoor
adventure with team dynamics. The inaugural competition saw 26
5-person squads - each containing at least one woman - race from
one side of
New Zealand to the other via foot, horseback, and
whitewater raft. Just 16 of the teams finished.
Over the next decade, hundreds of Raid-style events cropped up
around the world (America's version, the Eco-Challenge, was begun
in 1995). But length and degree of difficulty limited the sport's
growth. Few weekend warriors had the time or inclination to travel
halfway around the world for 10 days of being cold, wet, tired,
hungry, and miserable.
The solution was the one-hour adventure races that are currently in
vogue. Foremost among them is the Muddy Buddy, a mountain biking
and running race for teams of two that takes place in several
cities across the country. In it, teammates share a single bike and
alternate running and riding over a 10-kilometer course. Obstacles
such as the eponymous low-crawl through the man-made mud pit are
interspersed throughout.
"Anyone with a base level of fitness can get out there," explains
event mastermind Bob Babbitt, a man fond of showing up at races in
a skintight green frog costume. "You get muddy, you get an
adventure, you get a workout, you go home - all before noon."
Now, in the name of my career, I have enjoyed a few adventures: the
Raid, a supersonic flight around the world, six weeks on
Survivor island. I'm game for anything. So when I heard
about Muddy Buddy, I was intrigued. But was I adventurous enough -
okay, mature enough, secure enough, selfless enough, take your pick
- to race with Calene? And really, was asking her to low-crawl
through rude black muck the best way to express my love?