I cleared the grass in three long strides, throwing my weight into a low-level vault to clear the first low hurdle without breaking momentum.
Ahead, the twelve-foot wooden scaling wall loomed. I hit the footboard hard, driving upward, my fingers catching the wooden lip at the apex. Pulling myself up in one fluid, muscular surge, I swung my leg over the top, dropped cleanly onto the gravel pit below, and rolled to absorb the impact.
"Good form!" Rick called out from the sideline, his eyes glued to the tracking tablet. "Keep that pace!"
I came out of the roll straight into a sprint toward the suspended cargo ropes. Swinging across the gap, my boots hit the high balance beam, and I sprinted across the narrow ledge, my arms out for balance before leaping off the far end.
At the forty-yard
