This morning I got an email from a friend of mine, an elite level soldier-a modern day warrior with a job description and pay grade I can't even comprehend. My friend, for fun let's call him Captain America, has been doing some of the workouts I've been sending him via email. Knowing his chosen profession, I felt sure he would balk at my sessions as too easy or ineffective. I'm sending him workouts that admittedly kill me, and I was afraid his far superior prowess would shame me out of the gym forever.

Earlier this week he responded to a workout I'd given him. This is the first workout I have created myself that I felt was :
1)relatively complete in its full boy expression of athleticism, 2)was great enough in its difficulty to be a stand alone test of athleticism, and 3) frankly gives the trainee a great sense of accomplishment as a reward. I named this particular workout BRODY, after the soldier I play professionally in the world of make believe.

The workout is as follows:
BRODY
800m run
50 Hand Stand Push Ups
800m run
50 vertical jumps (Squat jumps)
800m run
50 military sit ups
800m run
50 pull ups

To be done for time.

My goal was to accomplish something similar to the Crossfit "Murph" WOD in intensity and output, but to work in a few more explosive elements to the calisthenics.

My last attempt got me a time of 41:22- just two minutes under my last time about three months ago.

Captain America did it in 36:22. I'll admit a momentary spasm after this liver shot to my ego. After a moment I collected myself and could stand back and admire the athletic ability of this real world Jason Bourne. I was ok knowing that yes, even though he was finished six minutes ahead of me, he still was suffering through a similar splitting headache, a sphincter threatening to let loose, and a bucket of chum on deck. The man IS actually human after all.

What ruined me, however, was when I received an email a few days later from the Captain. I had asked him what his current training schedule was and what, if any, different results he would like to see.

"Well, I usually start my days with 30-60 minutes of cardio... in the afternoon is when I'll usually do a Crossfit/Gym Jones style session..then in the evenings I hit the gym for weight training. Two body parts a day. I do this about six days a week for a minimum of one day of full rest."

Caloric expenditures and thermic effects and DOMS starting running through my mind like a herd of spooked caribou.

Three sessions a day? Six days a week?! I have a few screaming issues at this: 1)How does he get the fuel to do all this each day? 2) How can he maintain any state of readiness for his "job." 3) How can I get like that?

And then it occurred to me- training IS his job. Until the unavoidable moment when his training becomes the only thing separating him from the dirt nap. Knowing that, how could one NOT become the ultimate athlete, the fight dog in a cage, hungry, pissed.

I remembered a time in college when I was preparing for my one and only professional MMA fight. I distinctly remember training three times a day, six days a week. I managed this for about three months before the fight and on fight night, all of that added up to about ninety seconds in the ring. My fight was over, I won, and went off into a happy and content life thus far.

But Captain America's butt is on the line every minute of every day his boots are on the ground. And its not a pair of four ounce leather gloves flying at his chin. Its bullets, diplomacy, and a bunch of pissed off Mujahideen. The man has a lot to be prepared for.

My life is too safe now to maintain that level of readiness or physical discipline. I live in the biggest city in the US, its summer time, its Hot Sweaty Girls in the City time!

And Captain America is out there keeping us safe. And I know he can whoop my ass. And I'm fine with that.