The Next American Gladiator.

I did it! I paid $65 to do everything I wasn't allowed to do when I was a little kid - climb ropes, jump over walls, walk across a plank, "play" in mud. This past Saturday, I participated in my first Warrior Dash. I had good intentions as far as preparing for the race. I was going to start running, lift weights, go to playgrounds to train, and actually use the gym membership I have been paying for the past 5 years. All passing thoughts. The next thing I know, it's the night before the race, and I am planning what to wear so that I don't get mud up my butt.

5 kilometers. 3.1 miles. It's not like I haven't done it before. In fact, I have an awesome habit of running 5 k's cold turkey. So how is this one that much different? Well, let me start with the fucking rocky terrain. Rocky Hill Ranch, to be exact. So many rocks, so many hills. Not enough endurance. The first mile or so was rough, to say the least. I was ready to tap out. I had just gone 10 rounds with Rowdy Rousey. I started to believe I had been tricked into a form of torture. Where were the obstacles I had heard about? As I struggled up what might as well have been Mt. Kilimanjaro, I heard a woman apologize to her husband for letting him down. I told her not to fret, as there were several people still behind her, including myself. To which she replied, "Whatever, I saw your calves. I know what you can do." I know she didn't just go there...

For those who do not know, I am extremely self-conscious about my calves. I don't wear skinny jeans - mainly because I can't fit my oompa loompa-self into them, but also because they would accentuate my turkey legs. I just started wearing capris last year, and that's only because I needed a compromise between my denim jeans and basketball shorts. I inherited my Mia Hamm calves, and they do absolutely nothing for me. No ups. No push. No hops. Nothing.

I completed the first few obstacles like a warrior. I felt like I was flying through The Eliminator, and no American Gladiator could stop me. And then came the first mud pit. I came to a complete halt as my friends stood across the pit, all covered in mud, and cheered me on. As if words of encouragement were going to clear my somewhat germaphobic mind. I quickly realized I signed up for this shit. I knew damn well there was going mud in this race. Just like all the brothas and sistas know there will be water detours and roadblocks in the Amazing Race. It drives me crazy when they can't finish a challenge because of their fear of water or their inability to swim. I wasn't going down like that.

An hour and a half later, I was clearing logs of fire and crawling through one last mud pit. The end was near, and I could taste the free beer. I sent my body through complete shock - it didn't see it coming. But at the end of the day, there was a sense of accomplishment. Knowing that I could do this without any training made me think about all that I was capable of. With some help from P90X, Insanity...regular workouts...I could be beasting. Oh look, another passing thought. The only thing I'll be lifting the next few weeks are 22 oz beer mugs. And a few fist pumps may be had as my brackets dominate March Madness.



-bObD.