Is it possible to be a weekend warrior if you work out throughout the week? Not sure. At any rate, I've somehow become one.
Today I got bruised up in paintball. It was the first time I ever played. We played at The Paintball Store in Hampton, because I'd read good reviews about it. When we first went looked around the indoor arena, it felt like we were in a video game, like Splinter Cell or something. A lot of intimate combat.
I was there with seven other people from the paper. Three were hard-core gamers, adept at first-person shooters. I have experience in Super Mario games. And there were no gigantic flowers spitting fire at me or any big green pipes to jump down.
At first I was pretty timid, shooting maybe two or three rounds before getting dropped. But somewhere around the third game, I just started shooting. I could say something like "I wasn't going out that way," but I went out all the same. It was just more fun. I shot so much that I was the only one who ran out of paint and air. In the last game, I even did a belly crawl in the gross, painty sawdust to avoid shots. And I survived that one after getting shot in the neck. It felt bad-ass, to be sure.
In total I got shot three times in the head, again, the most of anyone. It's a big target, I know. And I have three tight target-shaped bruises on my calves (thanks a bunch, Jon) and a few on my chest and back. I was soaked with sweat and paint through my shirt and jeans by the end. I didn't capture it very well, but here I am all sweaty and messy: