I have decided…I’d rather be Helen then a Spartan. How do I know? Because during the Spartan Race yesterday I came to the realization that walking through mud pit rivers up to my boobs – in water that smelt like horse shit – crawling under electrical barbed wire – which my shirt got tangled on and YES I did get some jolts of electricity running through my body – and things like climbing ropes, throwing spears, running through the muddy forest, carrying bags of rocks – looking pitiful enough for a stranger to help me carry mine – and being pushed to my physical limits…just isn’t for me. Where was my castled walls? Or Prince to protect me? There wasn’t one. I may be over exaggerating, but this race was harder than I had imagined it to be. I’m a small person.
What I did appreciate was the camaraderie between all the people racing. Though we had never met before there were men who helped me along that weren’t just my teammates. Women who felt the same way I had…wanting to get through it, but hurting along the way. Our teammates Joel and Daly helped Leslie and I quite a bit when it came to hauling our bodies over ropes and walls – that I will always grateful for.
It was a good experience, not one I’d readily do again. None the less we now know what it takes to be a true SPARTAN. I don’t think Spartans cried into their roommates arms when they got home, all muddy, wet, and in shock from how fast paced the race was, BUT We are Spartans!