There is one workout that repeatedly ruins me.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Each time it rolls around I’ll be like, “Yeah, I got this! I love raceman!” and then after the second 5-minute segment, I’m on the verge of puking, and I’m wondering why I ever started coming to this #free_fitness movement in the first place–let alone leading it. Mid way through the third segment, I have to pull up at least at some point, and stare into space contemplating my existence. And then comes the burnout. If you weren’t totally fried by the time we line you up for those last 3 races, there’s something wrong with you. Maybe you’re a robot, maybe you’re Scott Gilroy, maybe you’re #robot_gilroy–I don’t care who you are, by the time those last 3 races roll around, you are standing on wobbly ground, doin the #shakey_leg without even meaning to. You hope the group photo will be called to Section #<whatever section you’re in>, and you wonder if your boss will notice if you #justdontshowup today for work.
Then it’s over*, when there are just bodies strewn across the top few steps. You look around at all the people that just went through the same ups and downs you did. You embrace each other high five each other, ’cause that’s all you can muster while you gasp for air. You’ve been through it together, and only you all know exactly how hard it is.
All of a sudden, “that was kinda fun…”
**five minutes later**
“Ok. That was a ton of fun.”
This is November Project at it’s finest. This is where you forge relationships with the rest of the humans in this city who own the &%*$ out of the morning. This is where you sweat, race, hug, and #fuckyeah your day. Raceman is the real deal, and y’all somehow make it fun.
Join us for #PRHillz on Friday. It’s gonna be on the house and off the hizzy. See you there.
Much Love,
– C. Payne
*Unless Diana Hunt decides to call everyone out and demand one more race. Woof.
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