Redemption

[Teros]

Hi! I don't know if anyone knows me here since I basically just hang out with the Adventurers. However, I feel that I finally have a real woot.

 

Get yourself something to eat or a drink, because this is going to be a really long story.  How...do I even start writing about what happened? I guess since this is a story of redemption, you need to start at the beginning...

 

"Hi! I'm Mike!"  People flocked.

 

It was kindergarten and I wasn't one of those kids that clung to mommy's leg before wandering out into a group strangers- they were future friends.  I've been told how shocked and taken aback my mom was when this happened. I've heard the story many, many times before.  I was a well-adjusted little kid until 1st grade rolled around. In public school, the teacher singled me out. She would tell the class, "If you do this, then you get detention and sent to the principal's office. Mike!  Go to the principal's office!"  I would have to shuffle off, regardless if I did the action she was talking about. She had tenure and it was impossible to fire her. I was so tired of being wrong no matter what I did, that one time I hid under the bench in the principal's office. I quietly cried under that bench while getting covered in spiderwebs and dust. Anything was better than being talked down to, or being hurt and made to feel like I'm nothing, worthless, and wrong.  On top of this teacher's 'example' that I was forced to be, I dealt with a trio of bullies that roughed me up every day. I still remember my brand new puffy red and black jacket that was grabbed by the sleeves and swung around until they ripped off and the coat stuffing fell out. I was thrown into a brick wall. The back of my head smashed against it and my vision went black.  Daily, I dealt with being hit, pushed around, disciplined, and yelled at.  I used to curl up against the playground brick wall, hugging my knees and my forehead on my kneecaps while I sobbed all alone.  That year...broke me.

 

Not wanting a repeat, I was pulled from public school and put into private school.  After thinking I was going to be held back, I tested a couple points shy of genius so they figured that despite all the torture; I was scholastically fine to start 2nd grade.  2nd grade is when I met my best friend, Orlando. We hung out all the time, but after second grade his parents couldn't afford it. We tried to hang out, but it was extremely difficult.  2nd grade I also met another boy. I tried to reach out and be friends with him, but he snapped at me. He became a bully to me for the next 7 long years.  Private school only had about 24 people in it. Some came and went for a year, but there was a stable group.  The bully was one of them.  He ridiculed me every single day at recess, between classes, and at lunch. Because of the small group, we had assigned seating. Guess who was assigned at my table? Him. I had to eat lunch literally right in front of his face as he told me what a fat piece of shit I was, how I would never be anything, how no one likes me, and that I should just kill myself since God didn't even want me.

 

I tried, for a long time I tried to be the better person- to not stoop down to his level. I don't know if anyone here knows how hard it is to see people that consider you a friend; point and laugh in your face on a daily basis. I had to have some sort of quick wit to put the focus off of me. Many days were spent not finishing lunch because the bully and I had to stand against the wall as 'lunch detention'.  On top of this, my mom didn't know what to do. I went to her for support but I never felt like I got it. She just figured that kind of thing just...happens.  Despite her saying that she is a really warm person, I felt cold.  At one point, I was sitting on the couch and crying about how I can't take it anymore. She told me these words that burned into my memory:

 

"One of these days, you'll look back on this and laugh."

 

I have never laughed.  My mom was also a perfectionist; so I never felt like anything I did was good enough.  I felt alone for years. For those wondering, I don't know my dad. It was my mom and older sister for family, but my sister wasn't only a year or two older; she's over a decade older. So there wasn't quite a connect there with our problems.  The only thing that made me not feel alone were videogames. I was in a new world where I wasn't hated. I hate everything about me, including my name so I created a game avatar name that I used for all my games: Teros.  Teros, to me, symbolized what I wish I could be, but I never felt I would be able to become.

 

By the time I got to high school, I was a disaster. After kindergarten, I was made to feel like everything I did wasn't good enough, was wrong, that I was an inherently bad person that wasn't capable of doing anything right, alone, scared, overweight, nervous, depressed, and hated my existence more than anything.  There were days in high school (and earlier) that I would stand at the top of my stairs and look at the bottom. I imagined that I would throw myself down them and snap my neck. I imagined my cold, dead eyes at the end of the stairs, just looking up at me. I would get chills and I would tighten my hands into fists as I would take a step forward, but I never did it. I tried. I tried so many timed to make that awkward leap so I could die before I was even 14.  Every day was videogames and binge eating. I ate a whole roll of family-size cookie dough- raw.  I would eat entire large pizzas by myself with chicken strips and bread-sticks. I would chug a half gallon of milk or melted ice cream in a day.  I could put away pounds of the worst food ever known, make myself feel sick, and then do it again the next day. It was like I was trying to drown my sorrows, and then felt I 'deserved' all the pain that came immediately afterwards. I was punishing myself. Some people decide to cut themselves so they can control their pain. I ate until my stomach stretched and I wanted to pass out from having something rupture inside me...

 

In high school, I was finally free of bullies; but I wasn't mentally free. I was locked up in a cage of self-hatred. I just wanted to watch the world burn to ashes. I wanted to have the entire world suffer and die like I suffered alone.  It became a daily habit when I went to the bathroom to sit there and imagine the world slowly dying of some sort of horrible world-disease or war.  My morning started with fantasizing about bloodshed. It was one of the only things that put a smile on my face. I was broken and lost. Words can't describe it, but I'm trying.  I kept gaining weight, despite trying to fix things. All my failed attempts meant was that I was wrong and couldn't even better myself if I tried.  Despite all odds, in late high school I stood up for someone I cared about and they became my girlfriend.  We were together and things were good for a while, but misery always found a way.

 

Fast forward to March 2013. It was after New Years and there was another attempt to try and lose weight. I learned more about paleo and joined this site.  I got support even if I did bad. What does this mean? People care even if I fuck up?  I was urged to just keep trying and moving forward. As time went on, I wanted to help others spread the message. People supported me, so I supported them. I had a lot of fails, but instead of wallowing in pity and self-hatred; I pushed on.

 

There came a point in this journey that I realized I need to stop being as nervous and scared about people liking me. To this day, I still don't know how to take a compliment. I think people are lying when I hear anything good about myself.  It's a struggle to read that I'm a good person or that I'm worthwhile.  When I got here, I had 20+ years of hearing and feeling the opposite. I started to not feel as alone and trapped in a vicious cycle.

 

All the love and care that people have given me over the course of this journey can't be put into words. It can only be felt. There is a world of difference between reading:  *hug*  and actually feeling the warmth of another person.  Although there was this huge wall between me and everyone on here; I still, slowly, felt cared about. I worked out with my sledgehammer, busted my ass with eating right and tripping along the way, and started to feel results in my strength. Despite my screw ups, I was overall making progress and it felt amazing.

 

In trying to be brave, I started the RPG Fanatics accountability group and I wrote story for it. The fact that so many people jumped on board with a journey to take down demon-kings that tried to destroy the NF Realm was amazing. That alone gave me a massive confidence boost. I kept losing weight and heard about Spartan Races for over a year. I didn't think I would ever be able to beat one of them. Regardless of how utterly terrifying it was, I manned up and went to Amnesbury for a Spartan back in August. I failed. I tried for over 4 grueling hours but I failed. I felt like all the faith that people put in me on this site was for nothing. I know that I made progress, but it wasn't enough. I wasn't happy. There was still that nagging perfectionist mindset from my mom that I wasn't good enough. There was my 1st grade teacher telling me that I was always wrong. There was the bully in private school screaming about how I'll always be a fatass and die alone.  I couldn't shake these voices as much as I tried. Despite there being a whole chorus of people on NF that were supporting me and telling me that I'll only get better and eventually get somewhere, deep down, I didn't believe them.  That mental prison of all the darkness inside me is what I have dubbed 'Old mike'.  If I bite my tongue and didn't speak my mind or tell a joke? Old mike. If I wanted to hug someone but I was told I'm a disgusting freak that shouldn't even touch someone- nevermind a hug. Old mike.  Thinking that I'll always be miserable and hate myself? Old mike.  Burn the world? Old mike.  When I failed the Spartan, I became Old mike again....and it was jarring. I realized that because it felt out of character to be old mike, I must be something else.  But what?  Maybe, just maybe, I might overall be more Teros than Old mike if these emotions running rampant feel somewhat foreign to me.  But still, I wallowed.

 

Which brings me to Saturday.  In my head, this wasn't just about righting the wrong at Amnesbury. This was about righting the wrongs inside me.  I wanted to shut up every negative thought, every echo of a black voice that rung through my body like a cancer, eating away anything good.  It was time to have my redemption, but despite this; all I wanted to do was run away and never see anyone. I thought about disappearing from NF and people assuming something tragic happened to me. There was one last 'hurrah', one last attempt for Old mike to bring me down- and I didn't listen...

 

I want to preface this Spartan with the fact that I'm writing this while having only gotten a couple hours sleep for days in a row now. Everything hurts and my brain is still cloudy. So if I mix up the order of events or forget certain ones, then I'm sorry.  Also, I'd like to note that I decided to wear the exact same clothes that I did at Amnesbury- my giant grey t-shirt with blue shorts.

 

The build up:  Before the race started, there was miscommunication with trying to find people.  There were multiple groups:

 

-There were the Fenway Nerds that were doing this Spartan with each other.

-There was my family (sis and bro-in-law running; mom, g/f, and ms booty were there to support) which I couldn't find.

-There was Heidi, Terri, and (spelling-idk): Graham

-Who I was with (because I took an early bus), consisting of: ChristArtist, WildRoss, AlienJenn, Shakespierre (AJ's son), Kit, and Ravnos

 

My group got there early- like 2 hours early. It was about 40 degrees and I only had some thin gym shorts, t-shirt, and sleeveless overshirt. Froze there until the event.  I was in so much pain from the cold that I wanted to quit again.  I went to get my time chip, bib, and headband. They needed a form of I.d. which.... I didn't have. I was wearing shorts without pockets so I left my wallet. This was the last attempt of Old mike. I large part of me sighed with relief when I heard the woman at registration say, "There's no way we can let you in without a proper i.d.".  I heard myself say, "Oh thank god, I don't have to run this and fail again and hate myself."  However, the woman said that I should talk to one of the blue shirts at registration.  The man there asked me a few questions to know it was me, and then he gave me my packet. Panic rushed in that I would actually have to do this. I couldn't tell everyone on here, "Well I was going to run, and I tried really hard to change their minds but I wasn't allowed. Shucks."

 

I'm...fucked.

 

The heats start running and all the groups seem to find each other at the last minute. The race for the whole NF group starts at 3:30.  Sick to my stomach, I see the first obstacle- a wall climb. Flashbacks of Amnesbury where I didn't get over that first wall- I just walked around it and felt like a failure before 'officially' starting the race.  I swallow really hard as the clock is clicking down. Someone at the start asks me when I start. I said 3:30 and they look at my wrist- no time ticket. Everyone else had little wrist bands with 3:30 written. I wasn't allowed to race. Test #2 in my brain. What do I do now? There's no way I can even try this alone.  It turns out, Shakespeare didn't get a 3:30 band either so we race to registration. A sound goes off and everyone races: meanwhile I'm pleading with the woman to get a stupid white band.  Shakespeare and I get our bands and then work our way through the crowd to get back to the starting line.  The wall. Oh god, I'm shaking. The stupid fucking wall...

 

I suck it up. In amnesbury, I didn't even try to get over the wall. I grabbed the top and went, "Nope...not happening."  This time, Shakespeare was there to help out. I tried my best to 'jump' but when you're 300 pounds; it tends to not want to leave the ground.  I dug my left tricep into the wall and pulled while Shakepeare pushed my other foot over. I almost fell but I landed on my feet. The group that was spectating cheered- the group that was there with me didn't leave yet; while the 'Fenway Nerds' group was long gone.  Ok...it's time to do this.

 

The group pushed forward, my adrenaline was running but I was still freezing. My nerves are already shot.  Keep in mind that it's been over 2.5 hours outside with 40 degree winds. Oh yeah, and it's almost winter and it's after 3:30 so the sun is already sinking. I touch my good luck charm and keep going. The first real obstacle was the bear crawl.  It was a ramp. However, the pavement was spiky and knotted.  If you brushed your hand against it, you were getting cut.  Also, there were bungee chords tangled up in a mess. So you had to stay low to the ground. I had fingelss gloves, but I had bare knees. I started scratching them up, figuring that this wouldn't be too long. I turned the corner. More ramp. More gravel-like concrete. More chords. Ok, it's 1 flight. I hunker down and go up again. Turn the corner. More. Again.  I lose track here. It might have been 4 flights / 8 ramps like this?  I tried to not let my knees grind into the ground but it's not like there was a choice. All along the ramp, I couldn't even turn my head up. I had to just stare at the pavement, with large smatterings of blood from other competitors leading the way. At points, there were chords way too low and they snagged on my ponytail and shoulder. I kept moving regardless of them pulling me back. Then would snap back and whip back into position. I was hoping that by hugging the edges and going slow enough that no one was going to get a chord to the face; but there was no way I was going to just stop now that I was in the middle of all of this.

 

I get through it and I see some of the group behind.  I'm sucking in air already and trying to focus. I remember what I was told last time- never breath through your mouth. Always your nose, no matter how hard it is. The bear crawls were harder than they sound.  Ravnos and Shakepeare were at the top, cheering everyone on. I wanted to cheer but I was leaning over the railing, trying not to throw up, speckled with some clapping when I could.

 

We press on.  Honestly, things start getting fuzzy around here.  I was trying to remember and make a mental note, that way I could write this accurately but it becomes a blur.  I think after running around the upper arena, there is the monkey bars. Burpees. Automatic burpees.  There were a couple of attempts from others but it just was not doable. I've decided that one of these days, I will conquer the monkey bars; but I need to keep losing weight to handle that.

 

We're pushed along to move a cement bucket weight. I don't know how much is weighed. Anywhere from 50-80 pounds I'd say. I've lifted 5 gallon water jugs before and it seemed more than that. I've also lifted 80 pound sandbags and it felt a little less that that.  The obstacle was to pick up this concrete block, walk a few feet, put it down, do burpees, then pick the weight up and put it back in the starting position. A strength challenge- easy for me.  I'm starting to get into the groove here. My breathing is heavy and a little frantic, but it's still paced. I'm still forcing air through my nose only.  My sister wasn't and said she was dying of thirst already. I told her about the trick but she wasn't doing it. I can't blame her- during amnesbury, I thought the nose-breathing was a load of crap. When you're that desperate for air, your natural inclination is to start sucking in air as fast as possible.

 

There was zig-zagging at the top of the stadium. Up stairs, down stairs, across, up, down, across, up, down across. What really sucked about the stairs is that they were uneven. You couldn't really get into a rhythm when every 5th stair had a mini-step on it.   I'm tired even writing this so far. Anyways,

 

After that was another wall. This one I feel horrible about. Wildross and Shakespeare both put their knees out to step up on. I stepped on Wildross' knee. As I went to get my other leg over, I kicked Shakespeare in the face. Man, if you're reading this; I still feel like a giant asshole. I know that you said you felt ok and that you've been hit with worse- but seriously- I'm really f!#$cking sorry.

 

We all get over that wall and the next obstacle is the medicine ball drop. It was a 25 pound sand-filled medicine ball that you needed to pick up over your head and drop to the ground. Then bend down to pick it up again. It think it was 20 or 25 reps. Another strength challenge- no problem for me.  Around this time was also the wall traverse. That's where there is a zig-zagging wall and you need to grab some tiny chunks of 2x4 pieces to try and move. This obstacle is 100% not for overweight or short people.  There's no way to press your body against the wall close enough to not be lopsided. Burpees.  After that was another wall- this time taller. There was no way I was going to do this after the kick to the face. Plus it was taller- I just couldn't. I don't know if this was a separate obstacle since no one seemed to care or pay attention. I have no idea if I was supposed to be burpees here.

 

There was a constant back and forth with the stadium. More stairs. More narrow walkways.  While inside there was another bear crawl. However, it was not on a stupid grating ramp. It was just up a flight or two of stairs. Majorly easy. I was feeling better at this point and pacing myself. I pushed any fear and doubt out of my head by now. How close were we? 3/4? 1/2? It didn't matter. I was doing this.  We went back inside for pushups. This part pissed me off. The woman said that our hands have to come off the floor for our 20 pushups. Here I am, thinking that I need to try clap-pushups.  I'm not scared. I get down on the floor and start doing them. I can't clap, but I can hop off the floor an inch or two. I know now that I'm almost able to do clap-pushups once I get back home. I'm happy while doing them, despite feeling half-dead.  When I get to #19, I forget who tells me but someone on my team says, "You don't have to hop up, you just need to rest on the floor and move your hands up."  So, wait a minute....that means that I was doing near clap-pushups when all I had to do was rest my chest on the floor, movemy hands out to prove I was doing a FULL pushup, and then just do a regular pushup?  SONUVA!   Well, I did my last pushup as 'normal' instead of clapping. I consider that extra difficulty to erase any accidental missed burpees. 

 

Here was a turning point for me. At about this time, I felt a tiny *snap* and my right Achilles tendon started to feel really sore. There was also a stabbing pain. Memories rushed back to the Dr's office of that weird extra ankle bone I have that when under strain can break off and scrape.  Every step was a stab and I thought I was completely fucked at this point. I tried to stay calm and focused on the net obstacles.  Last time, it took about a week before the flood of pain hit me. I assumed the same would happen so I needed to just plow forward, despite my eventual long-term pain.

 

At some point, we get water jugs. The problem with these water jugs is the space between the grip and the actual jug is way too narrow. If you had baby hands, you might be able to wrap your whole fist around the grip. For people like me and WildRoss, we basically had to grab these just by the fingertips and hope our grip holds. We went up and down stairs with them. Some people had spilled water so it was a little slippery- especially considering that it was getting dark out by this point; I'm surprised it wasn't turning into ice.  After going up and down the bleachers, eventually we were able to drop off the water jugs. I think women only had to grab one, while guys needed to grab two of them. Not entirely sure since I was focusing.

 

Once outside, there was a massive cargo net climb. It wasn't made of rope though, it was giant elastic bands. If any of you have a fear of heights- good luck. I do have a little fear of heights, but it's moreso my weight not holding. Every step didn't feel...solid. It was bouncy and shaky so it never felt like there was proper footing. I know that AJ was trying to take it slow, but some woman scrambled up past her and shook everyone.  We all stayed as a group and made sure everyone was over the net.

 

Now, time to head back inside.  I think there was another wall that everyone was able to get over. Again...fuzzy.  I heard there were 20 obstacles and I'm pretty sure I mention them all here.  While inside there was the jump rope challenge. This one felt pretty easy. It was a thick rope, like one to use for anchoring boats. You needed to wrap an elastic around your ankles and jump rope 25 times I believe.  This along with the stairs bear crawls and weight carry, were the easiest. It felt like more of a strength challenge.  You had to be coordinated, but I did the rope swing slow enough that I could do a tiny hop over and was ok.  After this was the HUGE wall. No clue. 8 feet? 10? 12? One look at it and I said, "Burpees".  There was a line of people waiting, because of how much time it took to try getting over. I stayed over by the side and did my burpees very, very, very slowly. I was running on fumes by now, but mentally I felt ok. This entire time, I stopped worrying and just lived in the moment. Next obstacle? Fine, whatever. I didn't dwell on how much was left, unlike last time. I kept moving forward.  As I did my burpees, some of the group attempted and did the huge wall.

 

We rounded the corner and were outside the stadium area I believe. Javelin throw. With lopsided javelins and some chords attached to them WERE NOT LONG ENOUGH.  That obstacle was horseshit. I thought it was going to be fun to try it out, but I saw some stands where every single person failed, and other spots where people were hitting the target consistently.  I was disappointed by that challenge.  Right next to it was the weight pully. This was the 80? pound bag tied to a pulley system. This obstacle, last challenge, is what pushed me over the edge. After I did this one, I knew I had nothing left to give. I was going to do this, and go further this time around. I didn't f!#$cking care. I beast-moded this one and didn't have a problem.  A new rule was enforced which ticked off a lot of people- no leaning against the guard railing with your legs for leverage.  I didn't need too- I just stood there. But I know some of the lighter people in the group didn't like not being able to brace themselves; it didn't matter either way to me.

 

Sandbag carry.  This might have happened earlier, but screw it, you guys and gals get the point here.  I grabbed one of the men's sandbags, bearhugged it, and went up and down the stadium flights.  Across a section, down a section.  We were close now. Really close to being on the bottom floor where everything ended- where my redemption was.  It just made me push harder. I was going to win this no matter what.

 

We hit ground floor and all we needed to do were the obstacles along the fields. No more stairs- this was the last leg of the journey. I was ready.  We get to a group of walls. They were all 5 or 6 feet. Not sure.  Boosted up and over, then while on the other side; I helped people get down safely. Sometimes just trying to land on the other side of the wall is harder.  We get over 1, 2, 3, 4 walls and keep going. 

 

Next up was the rope climb. It was another height-based issue. If I fell, I was going to break something and I didn't want to chance it and I was shaky. There was no official spot to do burpees at so I didn't know where to go or what to do.  Yes, I did those 'extra' jump pushups; but I still feel like I owe everyone 30 burpees once I'm fully healed. I walked by it since I wasn't sure where to go. Everyone else was ahead.

 

We get to the box jumps.  My bro-in-law tries and almost falls flat on his ass. I was told that you can step up them if you know you can't jump, so that's what I do. All the people that came to support me where there and cheering me on. I tried to hold back tears. I was going to make it. I slowly did my box 'steps'. Everyone else is caught up and there's only 1 obstacle left- the punching bags. Instead of having people with those giant foam sticks to knock people down; there is a whole cluster of hanging punching bags. We all run through it and towards the finish. Relief washes over me. I did it. I finally did it.  The picture posted was me and others crossing the finish line.  I had erased the doubt and stayed in the moment. Amnesbury wasn't a failure, it was a learning experience- a painful learning experience.  And I understood the lesson. I needed to force myself to eat, try to sleep, live in the moment, and stop being scared. Also, to breath through my nose only is a really helpful tip.  So I did it. I conquered Fenway's Spartan.

 

The Aftermath:

 

Before even getting to Fenway, I lost 70 pounds, could do 50 pushups, and working out with a 20 pound sledgehammer.

 

Although months ago, when I signed up for the Fenway Spartan; I thought this was it. I was going to try at Fenway and then I would go home.  Once I told people of my tale back in August, others wanted to support me.  My good friend Ravnos was the first, followed by others that had the spark to take on this challenge. If I was going to be brave and face my fear, face my failure; then others were too.  There was a whole group of people that came to Fenway to support me. (and this is where I get choked up.)

 

After the race, I said goodbye to my family. They all headed back home. I stayed with NF...my other family.  I went to the local bar where a ton of people already were. ChristArtist showed me to everyone. She was beaming, talking about me. It was really sweet.  I shook hands with Spezzy, ThisIsSeth, Gains, and even Steve; the founder of NF. I told him a little bit about myself and he vaguely remembered writing to me back when I wrote my RPG Fanatics story campaign from last February.  A ton of pictures were taken. It was a bit claustrophobic with the amount of people. We all hung out a little bit and then headed off to the hotel rooms that a few of us booked.  Heidi....she raised a glass and toasted to me. She hugged me close and told me that I changed her life and that she was sorry she ran with the bigger NF group at the start. She said that I was with her in spirit.  I said that all of these people changed my life and that they were all with me too...

 

I took off my necklace/good luck charm that I wore during the race. It is a small, blue Satyr head to represent my class here on NF.  I took the little cork top off of it and grabbed some tweezers. Out of it, I pulled a wallet-sized scroll of paper. I unraveled it, showed it to Heidi, and she gasped. It was my wall of positivity. All of you were there with me the whole time.  I knew at some point during this whole experience that I wasn't going to let any of you down and I didn't. It was a gradual feeling as I got closer to that finish line. I blocked out the pain, and turned off the fear. Most of those 20 obstacles terrified me, but only a couple got the best of me. I will beat them, just not yet. I know that I will conquer all of them now that I know there is an army by my side.

 

I thought that during all of this, that all of the socializing might be awkward. We're all nerds here, after all.  Socializing doesn't come that naturally for some (like myself).  But everyone there felt like family. Sitting on the floor by the kitchen table, listening to everyone talk and joke, seeing everyone with bright smiles on their faces; I felt comfortable. I felt like I was finally home.  The entire weekend was amazing. Too many memories to break down and talk about specifically. I will say that with most, I had a true heart-to-heart. I opened up more in that weekend than I have combined in my entire life. I hugged ChristArtist so many times as she told me that she was my mom.  There were too many tears of overwhelming emotion to count.  I know that I will never forget any of this for my entire life.

 

I don't know how to move on from this experience.  I am so grateful for all of you being who you are. I love all of you more than you can imagine, and for the first time...I really have started to believe in myself. I've been a proponent of the 'fake it till you make it' line of thinking. But now, after shedding tears, laughs, hugs, and meals with all of the people at Fenway- I can honestly say I believe in myself. I have never been so raw with my emotions. Not a single moment in that weekend did I look at myself in the mirror and judge myself. I stayed alive, brave, and in the moment; though I was sick to my stomach through most of it. I thought with my heart, not with my head. I don't have a prison in my mind anymore. I'm finally free. And there is no way on earth I can ever write enough, and show enough, how thankful I am for this experience. This, all of this, was my redemption.  I'm not the boy that's hiding under the bench. I'm the not boy being bullied, and made to feel small. I'm not the boy that is forgotten and mentally abused. I'm not trapped or ignored.

 

I'm the boy; now grown up, back in kindergarten that walked into a crowd and said,

 

"Hi! I'm Teros!" People flocked.

 

Beard and tan overshirt.

[Noname123]

Amazing story <3 You'll be ready to knock out the Super in no time  

 

Also, the blocks for men are 75 lbs (females is either 35 or 45) and you're right, girls got 1 jug while guys got 2! Congrats, the Spartans are ROUGH and you champed it!

[Guzzi]

Holy Hell!

 

You know something, before I even try to tell you how amazing it is that you ran a Spartan race, I wanted to tell you something else....

 

I've never really spoken to you on the forum. We kinda move in different circles, you hang with the adventures - I hang in The Pub, but I see you about the boards all the time.  You offer up some pretty darn good advice, you're always there showing support to other members, and you have a way of seeing things from a slightly different perspective that can be really insightful.  Even though I've never read your log or followed your challenges I felt like I kinda knew you.  I knew, for instance, that you work out with a sledgehammer and that you've got some rockin home-made gym equipment and have even suggested to some people to check you out for ideas on low cost workouts and making their own gym equipment. I'd read about the race in Jenn's blog so I already knew you'd run it and actually thought to myself "So that's what Teros looks like...." when I saw her group photo. (Rockin beard btw. Just sayin)

 

In short, I thought you were a downright amazing guy, a really good example of what makes this community so great, which is why I am so absolutely gutted to find out that you've had such a horrible experience in life.  I would really like to borrow your sledge and smash those bullies faces with it!  I cannot stand seeing people be so cruel, it's disgusting.

 

But despite everything you've been through, all the hurt, the pain, the neglect, despite feeling worthless and useless, you are still a positive, helpful, optimistic person.  You don't allow it to define you or make you negative, or bitter.

 

THAT my friend deserves recognition in it's own right.  I think you're even more amazing now than I did before, so thank you for posting it.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, and btw...... You ran a Spartan Race!!!!!!!  That's FREAKING AWESOMMMMMEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!             

[kirstenanke]

Thank you for this harrowing story of your school years!! It's made me realize how incredibly important it is to listen to my kids worries and take them seriously at all times!

 

This should have never happened to you... 

 

Incredible achievement on the Spartan Race!!!!   

[Dark_Lady_Link]

Hi Teros! I have a few things to say to you, but first off: CONGRATULATIONS!! What you've done is absolutely amazing! Both on the race and on your life change!

 

I'm new to this site so I was just wondering around the different forums trying to find my nitche. The last thing I expected to find would be a story as wonderful as yours. It beautifully written (and thank you for that; I love reading and it was an absolute pleasure to read a post as well written as this one), which only added to how powerful your tale truly is.

 

When I first joined this site, I kind of hoped that I would stick to it; but in the back of my mind I was afraid that it would just be another one of my fads...I didn't really believe I can change. Then I read this. Your candor caught me by surprise. From the first word to the last, I was captivated. Seeing you prevail, even after all you've endured, has inspired me. I didn't even realize how much I doubted myself till I read your struggle; learning about your inner battle shed a lot of light on my own. More than that, you've given me a spark beacon of hope. I'm starting to sincerely believe in myself.

 

I'm so glad you didn't throw yourself down the stairs. I know I'm not the only person who has been touched by you and your story. The world is a better place with you around.

 

You're an amazing person! Thank you so much for the story and the motivation!