I was over the moon when my fiancé signed up for the Tri-State Spartan Sprint again this year, and even more excited when he decided to join me for the Boston Spartan Super. I’ll earn my second Trifecta in Boston, and doing it with him by my side makes it even better. I can’t wait to cross the finish line hand-in-hand with the love of my life.
While my season opened in April at the Tri-State Beast, his will open later this month at Tuxedo and I’ve been nervous because he hasn’t been training. His natural athletic abilities are superior to mine and unlike me, he is blessed with a very fast metabolism. But his lack of exercise and an improved but still not-so-great diet make me worry. And no matter how many times I asked him to train with me, he always said no. He would complain about his gut, talk about working out but then do nothing about it. I was starting to give up.
You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do.
That’s what my mom would tell me. Even so, I was hoping the progress I’ve made these last few months would motivate him. I waited for him to realize his poor immune system was starting to improve because I was giving him vitamins and his eating habits were a little better. And then I finally heard it.
I’ll let you train me.
But I’ve never trained anyone. I’ve thought about getting certified, but it always comes down to thinking I’m not ready. I’m fit, but not fit enough. I’m not strong enough…who would believe that I could be a workout role model? You can be your own worst enemy. This would be a challenge for me too.
It made me think about the day I started running—really more like walking—hills. I was trained well for obstacle course races, but was thrown into everything too fast. It was a failure waiting to happen. I didn’t want that for him. So I scaled a Cross Fit workout and quietly prayed that I had adjusted it correctly.
He struggled. He told me he felt nauseous. But he pushed through it and embraced the suck, just like a real Spartan does. I was proud of him.
Can you train me again tomorrow?
Finally…he realized that I can help him. That running two miles at the gym once a week at best isn’t going to cut it. I get it too…I don’t need to be the fastest or the strongest to help someone else make progress. Now I get to pay it forward.
And we knew at the finish line.