I survived Netflix's 'Squid Game' challenge in LA and some of the games are just as stressful as the show makes them look

Even though I knew all of the obstacles beforehand, it didn't help me out much.

Creepy, masked "Squid Game" workers welcomed me when I arrived. I was hoping they'd have everyone wear the same tracksuit from the show, which features a unique number for each player, but that didn't happen. (Tracksuits were available for purchase, though.)

Instead, I was told in advance to wear comfortable clothes. I opted for a lightweight outfit that included capri leggings, a slightly loose T-shirt, and my running sneakers. I also brought a zip-up jacket in case it was cold.

I also had hair ties with me to pull back my hair. I didn't want to risk loose clothing or flyaway strands slipping me up if given the chance to play the show's famous Red Light, Green Light game.

At check-in, I received a bracelet with a star and the number 366 on it. I noticed some bracelets contained other shapes and was told they denoted your group.

My shape would be called a little bit before my challenge time at 7:30 p.m. Each group had about 30 players.

I waited until game time in the lobby where contestants could buy Korean-inspired food and exclusive merchandise.

We gathered beyond the door to watch a trailer for the finale of "Squid Game: The Challenge" and learned that TJ Stukes, aka Player 182 in the reality TV competition, would play alongside us.

I made a mental note to try and stick by him for any team challenges.

We entered a massive hallway with a bunch of monitors lined up where we were asked to scan a barcode on our bracelets, enter our full names, and take a photo.

The monitor wished me luck before the next person took my place.

There were 31 photos placed on a leaderboard. My group and I were told we'd get a chance to play a maximum of six games, but if we lost the first few games, we wouldn't be eliminated like on the shows.

Instead, the bracelets awarded us points for each round depending on how well we performed. The better we did, the more points we'd accumulate.

The player with the most points at the end of six games would be crowned the winner and could enter a VIP lounge that would otherwise cost extra to access.

The first challenge was inspired by one of the games late in "Squid Game." In the show, players are placed high above the ground and have to guess which of the two side-by-side glass tiles is sturdy. Guess wrong and you'd plummet to your death.

Obviously, no one was going to actually fall here. There were eight rows of "bridges" which consisted of 12 flat squares each.

We weren't given the rules until we decided the order of play, so, understandably, the majority of people lingered toward the back when we saw the game. On the show, you have a better chance of crossing the bridge if you're the last to go.

But I love memory games so I thought this would be a cinch. I stepped up with the first group, thinking, "I'll be fine!"

Several of the squares brightened for a few seconds and I needed to memorize the pattern. In a few seconds, I was expected to step onto the center of one of those previously lit bricks until I made it across. The mirror above the glass floor threw me off, though. Was it square 10 or 11 that was illuminated further down?

But as we were asked to take our first step, I was super confident. Then a red light encircled my bridge. My jaw dropped.

I was the first person eliminated.

In between games, we stepped into break rooms that helped decide our gameplay for the next challenge.

In the first room, we were quickly asked to step inside a circle with one of four shapes: a circle, triangle, star, or umbrella.

Immediately, I assumed we were about to play the dalgona game. If I had to scratch a shape out of honeycomb-like candy, I knew I'd want a simple shape. I chose the circle.

I wasn't alone in my reasoning; nearly everyone tried avoiding the umbrella circle.

We entered a playground-themed space resembling the dalgona room from the shows, and groups of five gathered around tables marked with our shapes. We were instructed to open the tin cases in front of us, expecting to find dalgona candy and some type of tool inside.

Everyone was shocked to find several marbles instead. We were tricked!

We had four minutes to play. One at a time, each player tried to get their marble in the center of the shape on the table. If you succeeded, you took back your marble and any marbles outside of the shape.

The goal is to be the player with the most (or at least a large amount) of marbles by the game's end. Run out of marbles, and you're out.

The umbrella was the biggest shape, so these players turned out to have the advantage, not the disadvantage.

During the first two rounds, I stunk, rolling my marble too hard outside the circle. I noticed one guy was a natural, though, so I quickly adopted his strategy of gently dropping the marble onto the table and my luck changed.

I finished the game with 11 marbles. He had 12.

This life-size version of Operation has never been shown on "Squid Game," but it worked similarly to the iconic board game.

My group worked together to remove fake organs from a giant, coffin-shaped box while racing against the clock. Hitting the sides resulted in time penalties. Specific tools were required to retrieve each organ, but it wasn't always obvious which one and someone else on your team might've been using it.

I've always prided myself on being good at Operation, but this was the second most stressful game I played. I managed to get something out successfully, but I'm pretty sure I contributed to a few penalties, too.

Next, we stepped into a room filled with sepia lighting that drained the color around us. It felt like we were in a black-and-white movie.

We were instructed to stand in one of 12 lines along two walls.

There was an option to be a captain, but I didn't volunteer for that. Instead, I made a beeline for someone who did: TJ. I figured I couldn't go wrong playing with someone who was on the show.

Once everyone chose a line, the lights in the room changed to reveal that everyone was standing in front of the color pink or teal. I was on the pink team. We were then guided through the doors coordinating with our colors.

We walked onto a giant game board, realizing we were about to play Battleship, similar to the ones on "Squid Game: The Challenge." The lines we were previously standing in corresponded to the ships we'd sit on.

Unfortunately, I was on my team's largest ship, which was the first to sink.

This was the most chaotic — but coolest — game with people yelling out instructions on which spots to target on the board in front of us. The captains chose which enemy spaces we'd aim and fire at. You could be as active or passive in this game as you wanted.

It was very close, but we lost right before we could sink the opposing team's final ship. It was a bummer to lose because everyone on the winning team received 400 points.

At this point, I had 357 points and was in 26th place out of 31. My Squid Game career was not going as great as I hoped.

In the final break room, everyone was given the option to quit and keep the amount of points they acquired or to continue playing the game.

However, if you lost the next game, you'd be eliminated. The people with the top three scores would head straight to the final.

There was no way I was going to stop. I needed to get some more points on the board. Nobody else decided to quit, either.

We had five minutes to cross a pink line on the opposite side. The first person to cross received 400 points and then each subsequent person received 10 points less.

The field was nowhere near as long as the one on the shows, but giant presents were scattered throughout to make the game harder. I tried to line myself up so I had no boxes directly in front of me.

I moved a few feet each turn as fast as I could as the room became shrouded in green light for a few seconds before alternating to blood red.

This was the most stressful game of all due to the possibility of being eliminated. Every time the light changed to red, I was nervous I'd blink or move a finger. I kept hearing players' bracelets buzz around me, and I wondered if mine would be next.

It took me about three or four turns, but I was the first to beat the game.

Red Light, Green Light winners were supposed to compete in a final egg-drop challenge. Players needed to balance wooden eggs on spoons and could slap rivals' eggs to the floor. The last person standing faced off against the three finalists with the highest overall scores.

Sadly, I didn't get to participate in this one. Only the top 13 were invited to play, and I landed right behind the cutoff.

The winner was someone who made the original top three. She was given the choice to either claim the win or sacrifice herself so everyone would get a small prize. We all encouraged her to take her prize, which she did.

After I gained 400 points from winning "Red Light, Green Light," I ended in 14th place.

I had a good time and was impressed by the overall sense of camaraderie, despite most of us being strangers. People cheered others on in the final two games and no one was cutthroat. (But, then again, we weren't playing for over $4 million on a show.)

If given the chance to play again, I'd bring a group of friends with me instead of playing solo. I'd also avoid going first at the bridge game.

Now that I've had a taste of the competition, sign me up for season two of "Squid Game: The Challenge!" Just kidding. I may have made it through Red Light, Green Light, but I'm sure this was child's play compared to the real deal.