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My muscles screamed for relief as fire ripped through them. Nausea ravaged my stomach, and fatigue pressed at me from all sides, making my thoughts incoherent. The one thing I did know: Working out was the bane of my existence.
Thankfully, I had only one more hill to climb and 400 meters left to run. I had pushed myself hard to this point. I successfully held the 15-pound weight over my head as I ran up and down the hill 29 times. My back ached from carrying my partner across the soccer field, and my bear crawl (crawling on hands and feet with arms and legs as straight as possible) had been phenomenal, really. I determined to take the lap around the track easy. I had earned a break; the ache enveloping my body was the only evidence I needed.
With 15 pounds held high over my head, I ran up the hill one last time, ready to commence the finale to my ballet of pain. My instructor met me with an expression on his face that told me my plans to relax a bit were about to be thwarted.