Six or so months ago I started down this crazy path to fitness.
Along the way I had a series of firsts: first burpee, first trail race, first 5k.
All in preparation for the Spartan Sprint at Fenway Park on this past Saturday with a bunch of my co-workers (Team name: “I Thought This Was a 5K #WTF” )
“3+ miles, 15+ obstacles” is what the website said. I translated 15+ as oh, 17 or 18. In fact, there were 26.
Obstacles like “carry a 45 pound sandbag all the way up the bleachers, then all the way across the bleachers, then all the way down the bleachers”.
And “get on this rowing machine and row 500 meters in less than 2 minutes or do 30 burpees”. I was sooo close – but no dice, I had to do my burpees.
And “take this cargo-ship rope and do 30 jumpropes with it”.
And “climb this six-foot-wall. And then this one. And then this one. And now this ten-foot one.”
And so forth. All over Fenway – I mean ALL OVER FENWAY – across the Monster, in the clubhouse, through the dugout, up and down the bleachers, with a final sprint around on the warning track (I dragged my hand along the Monster for a few yards. Had to be done).
At the end I was tired. And filthy. And sore.
But prouder of myself than I’ve been in a long time. Perhaps ever.
I am bruised from my ankles to my ribcage.
I am a Spartan.
And I’ll see you next year.