Pride

Over the past three years or so, I have been a part of an amazing journey.  I made a personal commitment to improve my fitness by incorporating some running.  This ‘some running’ has turned into a passion that I want to share with everyone around me.  Most of you know that I love to train, I love to race and I love to show my pride for all the accomplishments.  One of my goals is to motivate people around me.  I preach the goodness of fitness and make a solid attempt to encourage my friends.  Some people listen with both ears, others just humor me.  Regardless, I believe that I have made an impact. 

Something happened to my husband a few years ago.  I’m can’t define that ‘something’, but IT happened.  He joined a gym and started going…regularly.  His diet changed, his outlook changed and the weight was coming off.  Maybe I helped get him off on the right foot, but the credit is not mine.  NOT EVEN CLOSE.  This was all him.

He signed up for a 5K last summer, mostly because he bet me to raise $1,000 for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.  A few months later, he signed up for another 5K.  I’m not sure if it was the lure of running another race, or the fact that he would be wearing a mullet wig, but regardless he kicked asphalt.  Two months later he signed up for another 5K.  At this point, I was already beaming with pride for him.  I didn’t think that he could take it any further.  Mark my words: I WAS WRONG.

Starting January of this year he and some buddies from work started training for the April Tough Mudder at Bear Creek.  Last year these guys, dubbed Team Mustachio, signed up for the military style muddy obstacle course.  Oddly enough, this event is on my ‘list’, but considering I would be eight months pregnant at that time, I held off on signing up.   Almost every Sunday most of Team Mustachio met in the morning to run/walk ten miles.  As the intensity of training increased so did my husband’s motivation.  He had is eyes set on killing the Mudder and nothing seemed to get in his way.

This past Friday night we opened our home to the team for a pasta party.  In my mind, this was a celebration of their accomplishments to date and a preparation for the day ahead.   As always, I made too much pasta and we enjoyed a great evening.  The guys discussed their morning plan along with some obstacle tactics while digesting the meal.  After the company dispersed, the hubbs and I spent a few extra minutes getting our things together so we could turn in. 

We both got up earlier than expected Saturday morning and started moving.   In what felt like a matter of minutes he was all dressed and ready to go.  Ava went to Grandma’s and I headed out to meet a friend for our spectator duties.  I can barely describe everything I witnessed that day.  Barely.  I’m sure some people that saw an eight month pregnant woman trudging through suctioning mud, hobbling over snow packed hills and navigating through wooded areas around obstacles can barely describe that scene.

The day was long and the weather was fantastic.  I had the opportunity to see Team Mustachio at a large majority of the obstacles and I noticed something – something I have never seen before.  Each guy had this look in their eye.  It was a look of determination, drive, PRIDE.  Their eyes said ‘BRING IT’.  I wasn’t scared by their look; I was intrigued.  I wanted to know what got them to this point, but I already knew the answer. 

So, cheers to you, Team Mustachio, you kicked some mud on Saturday and made me proud to know you, be friends with you, and train with some of you.  Next year baby, I’m all in.  And to that guy who married a crazy girl like me – damn.