Before this date, I don’t think I’d ever had a date run away from me. This one did, and pretty early on, too. But I caught up with him eventually; he wasn’t to get out of this date so easily.
My friend set me up on this date. He’d set me up on a date once before, and it turned out to be a great experience. Based on past performance, I was actually rather looking forward to this one. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever not looked forward to a date. It’s only after the date starts that I lose my enthusiasm from time to time.
Our date wasn’t officially until Saturday, but since we were running a 13-mile Spartan race, we got together with my friend and his wife the night before to carb load on sushi. Conversation wasn’t forced, and the food was incredible; all in all it was a good introduction. The next day, I picked up my date and we met up with the rest of our team to drive to the race venue.
My date was/is in great shape, and spends a lot of time keeping himself physically fit. He is also very competitive. Very. Competitive. I told him before the race started that if he wanted to run ahead he was under no obligation to run with the rest of our team. I didn’t want him to be bored trying to keep pace with the rest of us who were just plodding along for fun. He assured me that he would run with our team.
Our team was all dressed in superhero t-shirts, except for my friend and his wife, they were dressed as Aquaman. My date also did not participate in the traditional donning of the superhero shirt, but that was partially because he eschewed the wearing of a shirt at all. We later determined he could be “The Flesh”.
After everyone checked in, we made our way to the start line. I think the enthusiasm of the crowd started to energize my date because he decided that he wanted to compete for time. I caught a brief glimpse of a blur that I believe might have been him when the starting gun sounded.
Partway through the race, I found a new date. Her name was Chelsea. Her team was missing in action, so she joined our little group. We had a blast!
My ITBS flared up around mile 8, and by mile 10, I could hardly walk so I was forced to ditch my new date, Chelsea, and the rest of my team and run ahead to the finish line.
When I crossed the finish line, I asked the announcer to recall my date to the podium. He wasn’t going to get away that easily. He had already showered and cleaned off all the mud. And by showered, I mean he used a hose to sand blast the dried mud from his body. We hung out and waited for the rest of our team to finish the race so we could take a group photo and go out for red meat and shakes.
This was my third Spartan race this year, rounding out my Trifecta. The date itself may have been forgettable [for both of us], but the race experience wasn’t.
The lines were long for the sandblasters, so we decided to jump in the nearby reservoir to wash the mud from our skin and clothes instead. It turned out to be a brilliant decision. Between us, I think we transferred thirty or forty pounds of mud to the reservoir, leaving muddy contrails in our wakes.
My friend and his wife bought me dinner and dessert that evening because, as my friend put it, “You’re on a first date, someone should by you dinner.” For the record, I had no problem paying for myself, but I certainly appreciated the unexpected gesture.
I dropped my date back at his friend’s house and returned home to shower and ice my knee.
First dating can be exhausting.