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But the crowd agrees with the emcee because it erupts in cries of approval.
“While other countries accept any duets, even unrelated ones,” he continues, “our contest is exclusive to newlywed couples.”
The twenty-eight gladiator Santas cheer.
He turns to us and winks. “I know that some of you set your wedding date with this competition in mind.”
Nope, not us.
To the public, he hollers, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I call it mo-ti-va-tion!”
The fans applaud.
“Now for the specifics.” He points out the track. “The husband carries his wife along the obstacle course. If he falls or drops her or sets her down for any reason, the couple is disqualified. The style of hold is up to the couple.”
One of the referees at his side turns on her mic. “I’d like to add that the couples must complete the 400-meter-long track in two minutes.”
“Please don’t underestimate the difficulty of the water pit,” another referee tells the contestants. “It’s five meters long, thigh deep, and uneven.”
Trust me, I haven’t underestimated it for one second.
The emcee takes the floor again, “Let the fun begin!”
The first couple runs… in slo-mo. They’re so focused on avoiding disqualification that it takes them too long to cover the track with a time of 3:58. The second couple falters at the first log hurdle. The husband vaults without lifting himself high enough. As a result, the wife bumps her forehead on the timber, and they both tumble down.
More couples take their turn on the course. The crowd shouts encouragement, advice, and words of comfort when they fail. The water pit turns out to be as bad as we were told. It ends most couples’ dream of victory when its bottom greets theirs.
It’s couple seven’s turn. Although athletic, they’re wrong for this competition. The wife is taller and possibly heavier than her husband. Her long legs are in his way. He has a hard time keeping his balance. They fall within the first thirty seconds in the sand obstacle.
Couple eight uses the Estonian carry perfectly and gets everything right. Their time is 2:04. If no one beats it, they’ll take home this year’s prize.
Nervously, I glance at Louis. He’s champing at the bit, his hazel eyes bright with excitement. I don’t need to ask him what he’s thinking—it’s written on his face. He thinks we can do better than eight. He thinks we can beat them and win this race.
Nine starts off strong. They leap over the first log beautifully and clear the second one. But in the pit, the husband runs too fast, loses his balance, and falls into the cold, muddy water. His butt lands on his wife’s head with her completely submerged. Needless to say, she doesn’t look happy when he rolls off her and she comes up for air.
Stay calm, Camille. You’ll be fine.
It’s our turn. We saddled up, and as soon as the referee blows her whistle, we run forward. That is to say, our unit runs forward. Because, personally, I’m riding upside down. As Louis runs uphill, I do my best to keep my core stiff, like we practiced last night. I also keep my head lifted to protect it. We clear the sand pit. I cling to him, not too loose and not too tight, clenching my abs and buttocks in anticipation of the first log obstacle.
“Log coming up!” several people in the audience shout for my benefit.
Others cheer, “Hold on tight!”
Do they realize who I am?Probably not. I’m impossible to recognize in this beard and hat.
“We’re at the log,” Louis grunts.
All I can see is his back and legs pumping, but I know from the way he moves that he’s about to leap. His words from last night come to mind,Shift with me, not against me.That’s what I do as he goes up, throwing his legs to one side, and then down. At one point it feels like my head is too close to the log, but in the end, the only thing that hits it is my dangling pom-pom.
With a thud, his feet hit the ground, and he runs on. I focus on maintaining my grip on him and on keeping my feet out of his line of sight.
“Second log ahead!” the crowd warns me.
I experience a déjà-vu as he hops over the second timber. I have no idea what our time is, but Louis is moving fast, and we have only one more obstacle to clear.Can we actually win?
Louis descends into the water pit, steady and fast. Too fast. He sways. As he struggles to stay upright, the very top of my head dips into the icy water. I yelp.
He finds his balance. “I won’t drop you,” he says to me as he wades on.
