A few Saturdays ago I found myself in Arizona—beautiful, sunny, 70-degree-in-February Arizona. Why? Well, because there was a little race going on, and I had somehow gotten myself talked into doing the Spartan trifecta again this year. These people had something to do with that:
Yep, there we are—Leslie and Karmel (and their husbands, who aren't in the picture [obviously]) and me, getting all pumped for the sprint. (Where these people get off calling 4.7 miles a "sprint" is beyond me, but oh well.) We got to crawl through mud under barbed wire:
And then, since we were all nice and muddy, we went for a hike with a sandbag. Because that's what you do when you're muddy, duh.
And then we climbed over walls and cargo nets and up and down hills and crawled through more mud and did a bunch of burpees (stupid spear throw!) and made it to the finish line. We had a fabulous plan to do the final fire jump all together. See, here we are getting all set to go:
Then something happened and we all got separated and jumped at different times. Oh, well, we have two more races to try to get it right. And why do we put ourselves through all that? Well, you
do get to watch a bunch of very fine looking men shower, which is always enjoyable. But mostly you do it because the bruises you get are really cool.
Talk about sexy! I'm sure those will help me get one of those fine-looking men to notice me, right? Seriously, it's a blast to do something so wild and crazy with such fabulous people. Super in Vegas in April and the Beast in Soldier Hollow in June, here we come. Aroo!
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