Okay, so I'm wicked inspired by my son finishing tough mudder New England 2 on Saturday, July 14th at Mt. Snow, VT. Never before has anything he's done made me as proud a dad as I am at this moment. What do I do now? I can watch as a spectator again. I can let him take himself next year and sit home drinking Shock Top. I can eat more mashed potato's and get fatter. I can watch Judge Judy. Oh, hey...I just got a brilliant idea! Yeah, wow, this is really awesome. I'll enter with him next year! But wait...I'm a good 20 pounds overweight. I wear glasses. My left shoulder is plagued with arthritis. Most of all, I'm a burnt out hippie merely existing at age 57. Why bother? I'll tell you why. Let's all say, "midlife crisis." I'm a po folk, so I don't have the cash for a Ferrari. I have a awesome fiance my age, so I guess a hot 25 year old is out (besides, I'm no Brad Pitt so I'd never have a chance anyway). I can't even afford a health club membership. So, with a garage full of weights my son uses for his training, looks like it's Tough Mudder for this old bastard.
So I go out to the garage and see that Justin has roughly 6.2 million pieces of broken glass on the floor. Weird, I think, but still proud. Very. Nuff said. I sweep and rearrange the layout and start by taking 80 pounds off of the bar (did I say I'm a lightweight?). I try a few combined reps of curling then right into a dead lift. Ten nonstop and I'm breathing like a woman in labor. Yeah, yeah, you body builders out there are probably shouting, "Whimp, you're not a mudder!" Hopefully I'll prove wrong all you naysayers. I worked out for an hour total, allowing lengthy pauses to catch my breath and let my heart slow. My doctor said that at my age it shouldn't exceed 130.
Will this ever happen? Right now I'm really psyched so I'm looking forward to day two.
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