At long last, the Spartan Trifecta Weekend was fast approaching, but I felt a little nervous when I stepped on the doctor’s scales.
“Moment of truth, right?” I said to the nurse.
She shrugged. My weight didn’t mean that much to her.
I exhaled and looked down. The scale registered 199. By my accounting, I’d gained 10 pounds within the last week.
“Wait,” I muttered. “That can’t be right.”
I had said these words many times before and yes, it could be right.
This bothered me because I thought I was doing OK with my training for the trifecta. Progress had been slow, but steady, and I was healthy.
This was far different than when I trained for the Spartan Beast Race six years ago. Back then, I’d been in a panic to get through it. I’d overtrained, taken a few risks and put too much strain