Читать книгу The Fighter Within. Everyone Has A Fight-Insights into the Minds and Souls of True Champions онлайн

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Halfway through the routine after I blew through the stations, I made it to the inclined treadmill. After positioning my fee on either side of the deck, I jumped onto the belt and into a full-out run, and it was going so fast that it was a little tricky for me to stay on the treadmill; I was pumping my hands and legs for dear life. It took a lot out of me, and I felt my insides ready to come out, as I started getting the vomit burps. It was a good thing that afterward, I had a minute of rest until the next circuit.

I started the one-legged squat with the Olympic bar, and I felt worse and worse from the inside out. I was having difficulty containing my insides, until my body finally had enough. I ran toward the designated puke bucket, remembering the flight attendant-sounding instructions that had been given earlier, grabbing the bucket for dear life and running out the door for fresh air. My head was spinning; I really did not want to be the one to throw up. With an effort, I forced back down most of what had attempted come up; don’t ask me why, but I was not thinking right at the moment, and I was running with the bucket instead of stopping to spit into it. I think my mind was so fatigued and set on the goal of getting outside that the rest was not computing.