For My Brother

By Ilir “Leo” Elezaj
On October 15, 2013, my 29th birthday, I was competing in an obstacle course race in Englishtown, and could see the finish line only 150 yards away. My heart was pounding, adrenaline pumping when suddenly everything went dark. One of the spaghetti taser wires, with 900,000 volts going through it, separating me from the finish line, tapped me lightly on the back of my neck. This was all that was needed to knock me unconscious, leaving me to fall awkwardly and spiral fracture my left ankle.
As an extreme obstacle course athlete, I was heartbroken by the news I would need multiple plates and screws in my ankle, causing me to miss many of the races that I relished competing in. Thankfully, when I awoke from my emergency surgery, my Uncle Nick greeted me and kept me positive about my recovery. He joked that he could finally beat me in a race.
On October 25th, just ten days later, my 42 year old uncle Nick, a man who I looked up to and loved as an older brother, passed away in a tragic car accident. For the second time that month, everything went dark.
My Uncle Nick and I didn’t have your typical Uncle-Nephew relationship. Being that he was only 12 years older than I am, he treated me like a younger brother. I lived with him all summer long, worked with him all day long, and laughed with him all of the time. His loss was absolutely devastating. It is not possible to put into words how much he meant to me. Nick always pushed me to finish what I started and to work my hardest. He instilled work ethic, focus and direction in me since I was a little kid.
Nick used to poke fun at my affinity for extreme racing. He’d offer to set up obstacles courses around our family’s hotel, the Ocean Club Hotel in Cape May, NJ, which he hired me to be the General Manager. Nick was always saying things like “Leo, instead of going all the way to Colorado, why don’t you just carry all the beach chairs on your back while I spray you with the hose?” After all his teasing, just before he passed away, he told me he wanted to run a race with me.
Last June I attempted to run a Death Race. After hours spent chopping wet wood in the hot sun, dragging 1500 pound stone boulders up a mountain with just straps and downed trees, and trudging through knee-high mud for miles, I had to throw in the towel 52 hours in. This year I’ve decided to run it once more, with two major differences. First, this will be my final death race competition, and I am going to finish no matter what, in honor of my Uncle Nick.
What is a Death Race you might be wondering and why on earth would anyone choose to partake in it? The Death Race is a test of survival and endurance. Competitors are dropped in the forest in the middle of Vermont with a backpack of very particular supplies and required to not only fend for themselves, but make it along checkpoints and complete extreme obstacles along the way. Additionally, there are course operators along the way that try and persuade the competitors to just quit, to give up and stop right there. They’ll say things like there are only 8 miles more to go on a specific trail, when really it’s 20 more miles. In our weakened, vulnerable states, they attempt to get under competitors’ skin convincing us to quit.
This year’s race will take place in Pittsfield, VT over the course of 80 consecutive hours. After the spiral fracture in my ankle last October, and the emergency surgery I underwent, I was able to heal in three months time and began training again in January. I’ll be running the race with a friend I made last year. His name is Nick Monette and he is a great guy that I look forward to battling the course with. It is bittersweet that my race partner is a different Nick than I intended.
Using all the qualities that my Uncle Nick instilled in me, along with a fierce determination, I now have what it takes to finish my Death Race.
I know some people might read this and still ask, but why do you compete in these types of races? For me, the answer is simple: I run it because I can. I want to push my mental and physical limits to the brink, to see all that my body is capable of. In the process, I have the pleasure of meeting people who are just as crazy as I am, but who have the same deep respect for taking care of themselves.
While the tasks I’ll come up against will be hard and painful, I know I will be able to overcome them. The Death Race and all extreme obstacle course races are just like life. It’s not about the course. It’s about how you deal with the course. It’s not about the obstacle. It’s about how you deal with the obstacles set before you. It’s about how you handle each trial you are faced with.
Fortunately, my Uncle Nick taught me how to deal with such obstacles. I’ll be the one on the course who will smile at each new challenge as I overcome it.
While I won’t be able to run this year’s race with my Uncle Nick, I run in honor of him, I carry all his life lessons with me. Always.
Ilir “Leo” Elezaj is the GM of the Ocean Club Hotel in Cape May, NJ. He trains regularly at Cape May Fitness Center and can be found running all over town, especially up and down Sunset Boulevard and Lighthouse Beach. If you spot him, make sure you wave or come say hello.