This story has two parts...

I signed up for some Spartan Race Challenge thing in November. I don’t recall why I thought it would be a good idea, but I’ve paid. I’m committed.

Today I attended my first Versus Athletic Training class…

I should back up and mention that this entry has two story parts. One: the part where I decided going to Versus AT was in my best interest for completing the Spartan Challenge. Two: the part where I almost died.

Part One: Signing up for Versus AT is in my best interest. At a friend’s paint party it came out that all five of us ladies were signed up for the Spartan Challenge. So of course, we talked about what the race would entail, what videos people had watched online from previous challenges around the nation, etc.

“Four-plus miles”

“Fifteen-plus obstacles”

“Fire, mud, barbed wire, rope climbing, water (not the drinking kind)…”

These are just a few of the nouns/verbs/adjectives that were thrown in and around the conversation as I diligently made my way through the living room with my paint roller, sweating a little bit more as the conversation progressed.

I quickly agreed that yes, we need team t-shirts, but more importantly these t-shirts must be an obnoxiously bright color, so that the rest of the team members can easily identify me during the race, so as not to trample me.

Someone mentioned how these team shirts could say something clever about “being the 16th obstacle”.

Yes. Fantastic idea. I found my purpose: I WILL BE THE SIXTEENTH OBSTACLE!

Long story short, one of these friends helping paint and signed up for the race, is an athletic trainer for Versus. And several of the other women attend boot camps or classes offered by the outdoor gym. I was soon convinced that I should sign up for an AT class between the paint party and the race, after which I would easily be able to compete in the race rather than just survive it.

Part Two: This is where I almost died.
It wasn’t DURING the workout I experienced any near-death feelings - at that point I only felt the urge to vomit everywhere. All over everyone.

The class consisted of:

6AM start. Not bad, when I go to the gym I’m usually there by 5:30AM.

The warm up consisted of several various interval activities: running, squatting, jumping, knee-highs, kicking, etc…it felt good and I was thrilled with my ability to complete each task.

The actual work out was two seven-minute activities. The first, run around the train depot, 10 palm-up man-pushups, 15 come-all-the-way-up sit ups. Do that as many times as you can in 7 minutes. The second, 21 kettle bell squats, 21 kettle bell thrusts, one suicide, 15 kettle bell squats, 15 kettle bell thrusts, one suicide, 9 kettle bell squats, 9 kettle bell thrusts, last suicide; all under 7 minutes.

Last thing: core work out. On the ground. Flutter kicks, bicycles, planks, etc.

It was hard. But I completed everything and was proud.

It wasn’t until AFTER the workout, when I got to Staci's (she's been kind enough to let me use her extra bedroom on these workout days to get ready for work), the following ensued...

I laid on the bed a good 10 minutes before I could fathom the thought of standing up to get to the bathroom. Forget having to lift a leg to climb into a tub.

With some serious focus I made it to the shower but had to SIT the entire time.

In fact when it came time to put suds my hair, I had to lie down against the back of the tub. Then I had to use the soap-bar-holder-thingy to help pull myself back up into a seated position.

When I got out of the shower I couldn't towel off, so I hobbled to the spare bedroom and sat on the floor, wrapped in a towel, dripping hair, etc.

When I say, "hobbled" what I really need you to picture is sloth-like-movements
At 7:30 I thought I'd better do something to get ready for work so I made it back to the bathroom but couldn't decide what I needed to do when I got there (vomit, sit, poop, cry...)

So I stood there dripping, wrapped up in a towel, leaning against the door.

Staci found me and asked if I was okay.

"Yeah. Yup. Mmmmhmmm. Nope."

She got me a pop tart and some more water. She is the bestest friend.

Then I sat on the bed a bit longer.

And then on the floor.

Eventually Staci left for work.

Needless to say I am alive. I survived. I made it to work before the rest of the office, right at 8:00.

And I feel better. I ate a peanut butter whole wheat bagel and have been drinking water all day. By 9 I actually felt perky! But there’s been this undertone of ill-feeling floating in and out all day. I probably haven’t had enough water, still, and might have over done it a bit.

But I'm excited to see what my body does and how it morphs over the next month and a half. Yes, I used the word morph, I am certain that is what will take place.

And hopefully I will do more than just survive the Spartan Challenge.