The kitty alarm had been going off since 1am. With every paw to the chin I responded with an arm scooping him away from my face and closer to my body, a hand pinning his paws and a nuzzle for good measure so he’d know we were cool. Then I’d roll over and bring him with me. Kind of ballet meets WWF, it’s pretty smoove.

When the real alarm went off I managed to get up, throw a clip in my hair/bangs and get my gym bits on without tipping over, waking The Mc or cursing. All my bags and clothes made it into the truck today (more on that later) dang it all because every time I have to do this it reminds me just how much I hate having a laptop and being a girl (or organized, either way). No one should have to carry this much $hit around. I am not a sherpa. Cranky and not yet awake I was on the road with a wandering mind.

Over the years I’ve become painfully aware that I’m flat out in-fuggng-capable of understanding how friends who compete in Iron Man triathlons or are professional cyclists do what they do or how they locate and exploit that *unnnnh* in their bellies that gives them the drive to be fitness monsters. I can’t wrap my mind around it any better than I can infinity (not the concept, but the real scientific deal) or why a cup of coffee is so much better with a 1/4 cup of sugar in it. Can’t fathom, don’t comprehend, brain shuts down five seconds into processing. This is not what I was made for.

5:45 and I made it to the site. Let the games begin.

Following the body fat test (someone send my ego a get well note) the benchmarking began and was exactly what it sounds like. 50 of us trailed after a laser light, cutting a wide swath in the dew on the grass in the dark at a local park. Careful not to trip on any “residents” or plop down in a pile of dog crap some horribly irresponsible pet owner left behind; we experimented with how many pushups, sit ups, how long can you hold plank, how fast can you run 7/10mi, how many times up and down the hill, and more stuff that I can’t think of because to be honest I’m a) struggling to keep my eyes open and b) brain dead. I’ll post my numbers later.

Did I mention that if you’re standing and listening to instructions, you’re not standing, you’re doing squats? No? I didn’t? Because I’m SCARRED by it and it’s curious something so traumatic would have slipped my mind until now.

So this morning someone shoved *u* part of that *unnnnh* I mentioned earlier down into my saggy, swinging gullet. They told me what to do, when to do it, for exactly how long and hell if they didn’t cheer me on when I wanted to quit, too. I managed to make it through the benchmarking without anything escaping an orifice I didn’t intend, which really; was my only goal.

On the brighter and non-fitness side of events, I got to see Cindy (thank sweet baby mullet Jesus for her hangin’ with me for that runnin’. WTF? I usta could do dat) and finally met ETK and her “Baby” - they’re going to kill this thing (even if she wants to kill *me* right now…).

Is it what I thought it would be? More or less - I try not to set expectations. Am I in pain? Yes. My arms are shaky and make it hard to type. Am I going back? Try to stop me.

Anything that hurts this much must be good for me.