Warrior Dash '18

What's up, America.

So last year, my brother Chris and I ran the annual Warrior Dash, held down in Mt. Morris.  If you'll recall, this is more or less a glorified 5K, with a dozen obstacles sprinkled throughout the course, which runs through sand and forest, grassy flatland and mud pits.  At the end of the course, when you emerge from the pools of mud, covered in sweat and filth, you're awarded a medal, a fuzzy Viking helmet, a free t-shirt, and a complimentary drink.

. . . 'cause who doesn't like throwing back a cold, alcoholic drink after an entire afternoon of arduous turmoil under an oppressive sun?

Well, last year, shortly after we ran it, we decided that it'd be a lot of fun if our wives ran alongside us.  Nicole would have done so last year, but she was, well, growing two miniature human beings inside her at the time.  I managed to convince Kris that she should run it with us, and so all four of us pre-registered for the 2018 race last summer.

Fast forward a year - a year in which none of the four of us managed to get in shape, or train in any way whatsoever.  No, instead, Chris and Nicole had been pretty sedentary, shackled with two kids.  Kris spent five days of each week over the course of the last year sitting in an office chair in front of a computer.

Damn it feels good to be a gangster.

And me?  Well, I went ahead and broke my foot.

This year, unsurprisingly, was pretty rough.  Running on a broken foot isn't cool at all, and it was pretty painful.  Kris nearly passed out after the first mile - the sun was intense, and running without shade in the mid-80s through sand isn't as fun as you'd think.  Chris' shoes were rubbing him raw behind his ankles, to the point where they were bleeding.  Honestly, the one person who held up the most happened to be the same person who had carried and delivered a set of twins.

Still, we had a blast.  It was a rough go, but was definitely a highlight of the summer.  I think it can go without saying that we'll be running the sum'bitch next year, in the Summer of 2019.  Maybe we'll even train this time around so we can save ourselves some of the physical exhaustion. . .

. . . .buuuuut, who am I kidding.  We probably won't.

Here, check it out:

A screen shot of the following video, from MLive's article on this year's Warrior Dash (you can see Kris at right, with Yours Truly coming up behind her.)

(You can spot us at the 1:36 point.)

This is the Pallet Jacked obstacle, which I revisited here because you can see me at the 0:31 point, awkwardly attempting to cross those plastic platforms of death. . .

Approaching the fire obstacle (forget what it's called), towards the end of the race.  We didn't run into many photographers along the course, like we did last year, but they always have one camped in front of this one. . .

Kris makes some pretty rad faces when she's feeling 'hardcore.'

Hard.  Core.

We actually jumped over slightly ahead of Chris and Nicole, so Chris took both images from the Warrior Dash website and photoshopped it so it looks like we went over at the same time.

Kris sticks the landing.  You can see, at left, my broken foot.  By this point in time, it felt like it was about to fall off.

Yes, that's Iron Man walking behind Nicole.

Once we cleared the fire obstacle, we had to climb a wall and then slide down the other side.  For whatever reason, they didn't have a pool of water waiting for us at the bottom of the slide this year, just a pile of dry-ass dirt.  It sucked, as we were kinda looking forward to being cooled off again - the heat was ridiculous.  (That's my arm off to the right, fans.)

After crawling under the barbed wire, through a giant pit of mud, we crossed the Finish Line and were handed our medals.  Kris asked a stranger to take a picture of us and text it to her, and - thank God - the lady wasn't a complete b**** and followed through.

Post-Showers, we opted to snag one more group picture in front of the big ol' Warrior Dash rock, like Chris and I did last year.

The race had a few different sponsors - nothing new, there - and among them was White Claw, which makes fruit-flavored spritzer drinks that have a 5% abv.  Not my cup of tea - tastes like slightly-flavored club soda with a hint of booze in it - but Kris (and every female in the United States, apparently) loves them.  The girl working the booth, who was, like, 21, didn't mind giving out an endless supply of samples to Kris, who promptly took advantage of her generosity.

She soon started sending us out to pick some up for her.  I suppose she earned it.

Awwww.  Wives take the cutesiest pictures. . .

- Brian