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Upper body is my jam. Julie is standing beside the board, and the four of us line up facing her. Meg, Jose, Dean and me. We’ve been given matching Gloved Brand fitness gloves, and matching Maxx jerseys with our last names on the back. Using a band I had on my wrist, I lift half my hair into a high and tight pony tail. I want nothing to distract me.
Everyone quiets down and the reporters begin their reports.
“Today, here at everyone’s favorite fitness center…” I hear one say into the camera.
“Who will come out on top, and who will go home?” another says seriously.
I look up at Dean and say, “You’re going down, Coop.”
He laughs and says, “To Key West. I know.”
“Good Monday morning to you all!” Julie greets through her ear mic. “Thank you so much for joining us on this beautiful summer day.” Everyone cheers and she brings them down with a motion of her hands. She looks to us and says, “Today will decide which three of you will continue on the road to Key West. Before we begin, let me say how amazing you all are. I believe in you. Now, without further ado, the gauntlet.”
Julie removes the poster and for the first time we’re able to see what our challenge will be. And boy is it going to hurt. My arms burn just reading the thing.
25 Shoulder Taps.
25 Inchworm to Pushup.
25 Pullups.
25 Tricep Dips.
25 Plank Up/Downs.
They are all body weight exercises. Figured it would be to keep it fair.
“The person with the least repetitions within thirty minutes will be eliminated today. This is your panel of judges,” Julie says, signaling the three people behind her. “Please keep in mind as you become tired, if your form fails, they will see it and deduct any repetition performed incorrectly from the final score. DO NOT race through. Make sure each rep counts.”
Julie then hands the floor over to Liam Carpenter, one of the judges, who demonstrates the proper way to do each exercise. “Any questions?” he asks when he’s through. I’m so nervous I didn’t catch any of what he just showed us. It doesn’t matter, I can do them with my hands tied behind my back. Well, not really, but I know what they are by heart.
“We will begin in five… four… three… two…” Julie sets the timer. “Dura” by Daddy Yankee blares to life as our signal to begin.
The four of us drop on the spot into a high plank position and begin cross tapping a shoulder at a time. Then it’s on to playing the worm, walking ourselves into an upward dog pose, then back down to high plank and push up.
Meg is the first to jump up and race to the bars, followed closely by me. She may be petite, but she’s fast, keeping the lead through the entire first round. During the second, Dean takes the lead. Where the hell he came from, I don’t know, but somehow he got ahead of Meg and me.
The backs of my arms are on fire as I work on my Triceps Dips, making me shake almost uncontrollably with every rep. I must keep a steady pace. Must keep breathing.
During the third, Meg gains some traction, taking me out again, but unable to get past Dean. Jose has been behind us the entire workout, but still keeping up, taking his time, resting as needed. While Meg…
I can see she’s pushing herself to fatigue, which would normally be a good thing. Not when form counts as much as repetitions. She’s tiring, and it’s becoming more and more evident. By the fourth round, she’s fallen to last place, and slowing down by the second.
I’m facing the pullup bars, working on my fourth round of Plank Up/Downs, singing in my head as I work, trying my best not to feel my muscles begging me to stop.
“Plank Up on my hands, down lo-o-ow on my elbows. Plank up on my hands, down lo-o-ow on my elbows.”Over and over I say this little rhyme. Then I scream in my head,“Somebody quit already!”
As if I willed it to happen, Meg loses her grip mid pullup and falls. She’s tired, I can see it on her face and her body language. But even then, she forces herself up, and jumping as high as her short stature allows, she grasps the bar and pulls up five more times before falling again, and once again she gets up, only slower this time.
Julie races over concerned. “Meg, you can do it!”
Meg tries, giving it her all and roaring as she reaches for the bar. But she can’t hold on. I know how she feels. Her hands are weakening, as is every muscle in her arms, and even her legs as she tries in vain to jump high enough. A step is brought for her, which I suppose is fair given that it’s not leg day. She steps on and grasps the bar, but she fails to lift herself.
It has been my experience that the saying “Your brain will tell you to give up fifteen times before your body is ready to,” is true. But it’s also true that your body does eventually give up. And Meg’s just did.
She stops trying, shaking her head. I can tell she wants to cry. Hell, I’d want to. But she holds firm, lifts her chin and nods once at Julie.
The rest of us finish the remaining five minutes, because we need to be certain we got more reps in than Meg did, even if she stopped early. When the whistle blows, we all come together at the front of the room.
