There was sweat everywhere. It dripped from every part of
my body. I looked straight ahead trying to focus on Jake’s whistle. I blinked
and it felt like I was in slow-mo. I breathed in and I breathed out. I looked
to my right and then I looked to my left to remind myself that it was just me,
myself, and I. The whistle sounded and then my world sped up.
My legs were robotic; they’d already been doing this for a
half hour…15 seconds later and it was over. I picked up the 25-pound plate that
was now at my feet and heaved it onto my back. Lunges, squats, push-ups,
crunches; throw the plate on the ground. Sprint back. Repeat.
“We’re
going until you throw up or pass out. Your choice.” Damn it. I don’t throw up
during workouts. Never have. Never will. So, passing out it was.
An hour later, and I was practically crawling through the
line. Jacob walked over to me.
“Impressive. The fact that this was voluntary and you
still did it? Dually noted. You clearly have the drive to win. Maybe you should
try and pass it on to some of your teammates.” He extended his hand down to me
and I took it.
“I’ll make sure to let them know…but can I please go
shower now? I smell worse than the guys’ locker room.” He laughed and nodded
his head.
“Okay, go.”
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