Spartan Up!

Many people know the story of how I found Spartan training and racing. What they may not know is just how profoundly it changed my life. I can honestly say I will never return to my pre-Spartan days. Back then, my path was paved with shoulda… woulda… couldas.

Today, I look at things differently. I lean into my strengths and face whatever obstacle is thrown my way. And if there’s a way through it, I’ll find it.

Today I returned to the Spartan arena—not as a racer, but as a volunteer at a race held in New York’s legendary Citi Field. Each year I sign up to work an obstacle, cheer on fellow racers, and give a little something back to an organization that gave my life the jumpstart I never knew I needed.

The alarm rang at 3:15 a.m. By 4:15 a.m. my pal Sha Sha and I were headed into the city. We were the first two to arrive at the volunteer tent. After signing in, we grabbed our red volunteer shirts and hoodies for the day. Those red shirts are important—they let every racer know exactly who to turn to when they have a question, need help, or just need a little encouragement.

Before long we were stationed between the Weighted Burpee obstacle—15 burpees with a 55-pound weight for the gents or 33 pounds for the ladies—and my domain, the Multi Rig. Picture rows of hanging rings that racers must traverse, hand over hand, until they smack a cowbell signaling completion.

Simple in theory.

Not so simple after 15 weighted burpees.

As you can imagine, racers arrived at my obstacle already wiped out. I greeted them with a bullhorn and as much encouragement as my lungs could muster. If someone needed a breather, I guided them off to the side. Some people wanted to chat. Some ignored me and powered straight through. Everyone handles a challenge in their own way.

Then one racer tapped me on the shoulder.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked me straight in the eye and said quietly, “Look… I can’t do this anymore. This is insane.”

I paused for a moment, took a breath, and held his hand.

“Nothing we do in life is easy,” I told him. “One day you’ll have a bad day at work. Another day your child might get sick. Some days you’ll just want to throw in the towel. That’s what these obstacles are. Each one represents a different piece of adversity.”

He told me this was his first race.

I pointed down the course and explained that there were only five more obstacles after mine. When he crossed that finish line, he would be a Spartan forever. He might never race again—but he would always know what it meant to be one.

He gave me a fist bump and headed off down the line.

About an hour later, I was chasing a section of my obstacle flooring that the wind had decided to launch into orbit. Suddenly I felt a hand on my back.

It was him.

He held up his medal, kissed it, and said, “I am a Spartan because of you.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“No pal—that’s all you. Every time you believe you can… Spartan Up and you will.”

We hugged and he jogged off into the crowd.

And that, my friends, is the magic of the arena.

Wherever your race through life takes you, remember who you are and what you’re capable of. Obstacles will show up when you least expect them. Some will knock the wind out of you. Some will make you question whether you belong in the race at all.

But the finish line is always there for those who keep moving.

So dig deep, keep going, and when life throws a wall in front of you—

Spartan Up… and don’t ever let yourself down.