Yep. Humble Pie is on the schedule, and I don’t like it one bit.
Tough Mudder is a race 11 miles long, with 20 different obstacles, including things like zapping wires, barbwire, claustrophobia challenges, wall climbs, etc.
We have a pretty epic team, most of whom are from the Single Dad Laughing Health Club. Twenty-some-odd of us now. It is a team in every sense of the word. Friendship, passion, commitment, determination.
I have been so excited for this thing. I am in the best dang shape of my life right now. I can do two hours of Cross Fit type stuff and still have energy for more. Six months ago, I finished Insanity! I’m feeling good, I’m looking good, and I was going to rock that Tough Mudder.
“Dan, you should not do the Tough Mudder.”
Those were the words my doctor said to me a few weeks ago, and if you have ever been kicked square in the sternum with a steel-toe boot, well… yeah. That’s what his words felt like.
He looked at me like I would die if I did it.
Remember when I got heat stroke on that mountain a couple summers ago and almost died? And remember a couple weeks ago when I told you about my hyperhidrosis? Well, once you get heat stroke, heat illnesses are just waiting on your doorstep, begging you to open the door for ‘em, pretty much forever more. The sweating problem only adds to the danger for me since I get dehydrated on top of it all.
All this came about after completely losing my hydration and overheating after a simple 1.5 mile run one afternoon. Tough Mudder is eleven miles. Quite a bit longer than that.
And I decided, I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I don’t want to die.
Actually, my thoughts were more like I really don’t want to f***ing die. And I meant it.
I got onto our Tough Mudder group and told the team of my situation. I just wanted people to tell me it was okay, they understood, “safety first, Dan!”
Instead, they said the worst thing they possibly could have said.