I don’t know how to conjugate Latin. If anyone does, please correct my stupidity above. Do I keep it Spartacus Mater? Nominative? Genitive? Mommy brain? I used to know this stuff.
Anyway, perhaps a linguistics exam will be part of my Spartan Sprint this Saturday in Blue Mountain, PA. I wish there were academic portions of most road races and mud warrior events. I would win things! Someone please invent a Mud-Jeopardy-SAT Question-5K.
So a funny thing happened on the way to the Spartan Forum: We accidentally signed up for the hardest of all the Spartan Sprints, the one dubbed “Mini Beast,” and a race that although advertised as a 5K is actually a five-miler. Did someone over at Sparta HQ mix up their measurement systems? Do they not know about the wacky metric systems those Frenchies are using in Commie Land?
Doing this was meant to be a fun family fluke. I convinced my sister, husband and my sister’s boyfriend to sign up. If we expire in mud, they will most likely blame me in their final throes. They are 25 years old and are P90X enthusiasts and although they only started running to train for this race last week (good job, guys) they are young and spritely and innately athletic so I’m sure they will do fine. Me and my husband on the other hand are of advanced age, which has been accelerated by the process of nine months of slow death by sleep deprivation torture (my hair is turning white as we speak. Oh wait, that’s the dry shampoo I don’t have time to brush out.)
Well, really, I’m mostly affected by the baby’s 1,500 night nursings. But my husband is 12 years older than me and only suffers from couch sleep. He is one year away from the Sexy 45-49 year old age bracket (seriously, that’s a sexy damn age group. Check ’em out at your next Firecracker run) and he is worried he’s too old and crotchety and fragile-of-lower-back-vertebrae to make it through all the obstacles. But with my sleep torture, I figure that ages me a decade so we are roughly on par. Also, there are no Instagram or Tweeting or Googling obstacles because then he would be doing burpees for the next year. The man is 44 going on 104 when it comes to the Social Medias.
I also had the brilliance to not change my training at all in preparation for this race since it’s just for fun! Oh so fun! and now I’m not really sure we are ready. It’s kind of like gym class redemption except I don’t know if I can climb a rope any better than I could in 1993 (hint: not well!). But in 1993 my only exercise was eating Pecan Sandies and drinking Schwepps Dry Grape Ginger Ale inside while reading Jane Eyre for the fifteenth time on 75 degree sunny days (hey, that book was not going to read itself for the fifteenth time). I’d like to insert a shout out to my mom for buying my favorite snacks in the dwindling twilight of our unhealthy grocery years. That was before we had whole wheat bread even.
Now I can do three chin ups and 75% of one overhand pull up! I’m good at brute suffering (carrying things, slogging up hills). I am not sure I am bad at aiming javelins but I suspect I am.
Luckily enough we will be traversing our ski slope gauntlet as a team, and my husband is six feet tall so I’m planning to be boosted over walls like a small child. Walls=check. I’m kidding, I’m sadly and misguidedly competitive, so of course I am going to try to do every obstacle by myself, and my goal is not do any burpees.
We have a three hour drive to where we are staying so that’s sure to encourage excessive daytime napping in the children, which means excessive wake-ups the night before, and along with my daughter hating to sleep anywhere besides her own bed (“I miss my dog!” she wails, as soon as we are going to sleep away from home despite not having noticed his existence for weeks before) I will be adding my own personal, highly advanced, add-on obstacle for my Spartan Sprint test of mettle and looking good in mud test:
Racing up a mountain in 90 degree humid heat after being woken up every twenty minute the night before and every couple of hours for the last two thirds of a year.
Beat that, Spartans.
Speaking of nine months, Henry has been taking his first steps. He started with one the day before he turned nine months old and now is doing three or four. He is nine months and four days old. I’m applying for his Junior Spartan race now.