I love Spartan Races. If you never heard about them, they are races where you climb walls, crawl under barbed wire, and roll around in mud. Think American Ninja Warrior but with dirt, iron, and a cold shower waiting for you at the end. For a hyperactive kid (and let’s be honest, I’m still that kid inside), it’s a dream come true. Even though the years keep piling up, that doesn’t stop me from diving in with the same energy and excitement.
Now, Spartan Races aren’t just fun—they’re tough and risky. Before every race, you sign a waiver that basically says, “If you die or seriously injure yourself, it’s not on us.” I can hear my lawyerish side doubting the effectiveness of that waiver, but I still sign it without a second thought. Every. Damn. Time.
In 2018, I wrote down a desire in my “Desire List” (maybe one day I’ll blog about that as well): “I want to conquer a Trifecta.” For those who aren’t familiar with Spartan Races, a Trifecta means completing the three main Spartan Races in less than a year: a 5 km race with 20 obstacles (the Sprint), a 10 km race with 25 obstacles (the Super), and the 21 km race with over 30 obstacles (the Beast).
Now, you might ask why I didn’t just write, “I want to complete a Spartan Race”. Well, to me, the Trifecta felt like a modest enough challenge but also something hard enough to make me think “Am I able to do that?”. And let’s not forget that there are harder possible races, like the Death Race, the Agoge, or the 24-hour Hurricane Heat, which basically challenge you to see how much pain you can endure without dying.
According to my timeline, I should’ve been ticking off that desire in 2019. But life, as usual, had other plans. An injury to my left knee just two weeks before the Maggiora Race took me out. I wanted to run, but my physiotherapist threatened me—no more treatments if I went my own way – so I decided to pull out. Later that year, I still managed to finish the race in Campi Bisenzio and ran a marathon through the Angkor Wat temples in Cambodia. For most people, that would’ve been enough. But not for me.
Then came 2020, and we all know how that story goes. The pandemic derailed almost everything, Spartan Races included. When they started again, they made you race with a mask on, and I just couldn’t get into it. In mid-2022, I ran in Maggiora (because I can’t leave unfinished business), completed the New York marathon (another desire), and even did a Spartan Stadion in Boston. But in Stadion races, there’s no mud. And if I’m not covered in mud, it’s just not Spartan to me.
2023 was looking good on paper, but once again, life got in the way. I only managed to race in Cerveteri. The rest? Well, weddings, work emergencies, family issues, and my ninth Camino de Santiago took priority.
Finally, in 2024, I nailed it. I did the three races (Gubbio, Cesenatico, Misano), and now I’ve got the three-piece medal in my hands.
On paper, I realized the desire I wrote down in 2018. But it took me five years longer than I’d planned.
Maybe that’s a lesson: desires and goals are not the same.
Maybe it’s a reminder that things take time.
Or maybe it’s a message that being humble in setting goals (well, desires….) isn’t such a bad thing. If I’d just written “I want to complete a Spartan Race,” I could’ve crossed that off in 2019.
Like with so many things in life (and in this blog), I’m not sure.
But something deeper has been on my mind since I crossed that finish line.
It’s 2024, and the Marco of today is not the Marco of 2018. We change—not just metaphorically, but physically. Our cells, our DNA, our brains, all change. So does it even make sense to keep chasing the desires of a past version of ourselves? Or does constantly looking back stop us from seeing and embracing the future?
Once again, I don’t know. But there’s something I do know.
A few weeks later, I’m still proud of myself. There’s something undeniably satisfying about finishing something I truly wanted to do. Oh, and even though I’ve crossed this desire off my list, I’m still hungry for more. Maybe I’ll explore uncharted Spartan territory and try a Hurricane Heat, an Ultra, or even a Death Race. Or maybe I’ll switch it up and attempt an Ironman—just to cross it off the to-do list.
Sometimes, all it takes is one desire on a list and a few years of showing up until it finally happens.
