WINTER
The crew members descend on us like surgical technicians, armed with heavy-duty Velcro bands and the kind of serious expressions usually reserved for handling explosives. I watch as they bind the contestants to their partners with practiced efficiency.
One crew member, a wiry guy who looks like he moonlights as a CrossFit trainer, approaches Nath and me with what looks like professional restraint gear. "Right leg to left leg, right arm to left arm," he announces, like he's reading from a manual.
My right leg gets secured to Nath's left with a thick band that's surprisingly comfortable despite looking like medieval torture equipment. Then my right arm is bound to Nath's left arm with similar gear, creating a human three-legged race on steroids.
"This feels very committe
