The gawdam Mud Run

(Pictured above, "Humble Beginnings". File this under "It seemed like a good idea at the time")

So during the half mara in June, I was tapped early run my friend Pogmyster. About 3 weeks later he sends a FB message w/a link to this Mud Run deal and asks if Team Awesome would be interested. I look it up and it looks like a dirty blast. Obstacle course. Mud. In my mind, a total throwback to Boy Scouts and Rum River when we'd race through tires/rope ladders/yeti ladders. I'm in without question. And the more people who I tell, the more they get interested. Soon enough, we have a team. (SupercalifragilisticixpyaSclerosis. Don't ask. RPK's idea won) Besides sounding awesome, it's for a good cause (Raising money for MS Prevention) and it started getting some friends into this running craze which has o'er took my girlfriend and addled my own brain.

Race day was on September 11th. Packet pick up the day before. I had my race costume picked out. (Torn up Spidey shirt, camo pants, bandana...natch, and my old running sneakers. Everything was meticulously planned out. The shoes'd be great, since I accidentally bought them slim so no fear of them falling off and they were still in good shape)

Then I read the race packet. And, as Moda would say later, it was intimidating. Most of the warnings were for the "formal teams", but the biggest was that it almost ORDERED you to wear combat boots/hiking boots b/c...it assured, you would twist your ankle or lose a shoe if you didn't. So my shoes were chucked in lieu of my 21 year old Asolo trail boots. Fine. When we got up that morning, it was cold. (Strike one) Moda wasn't happy (Strike two) and the course was over at Trollhaugen...which was a ski course. Which meant that it could be 10K of the same type of trail we struggled through when we tackled Afton mid-summer. (Strik...eff it. We pocketed our mutual bad attitudes. Or at least vented on the commute)

On the way out there, I made relentless fun of the douchey race packet by lampooning all the rules they established...for example:

"If you're in a team of women...and you don't have hard nipples after the race for next years promotional pamphlets...you're disqualified"
"If you're not cold and miserable by the end of the race, we will be spraying you with a freezing hose and pelting you with mud balls that we froze the night before. Or you're disqualified"
"If you complain before the race and we hear you, we'll ridicule you...call you gay or something...and you'll be disqualified"
"If we don't find at least 78% of your team attractive...you'll be disqualified. Ugly."

It's amazing what's funny at 7am on a cold Saturday morning.

Our team grouped. We waited an indeterminable amount of time while announcers announced things (We couldn't hear a GD thing. The speakers faced the crowd and not the runners. There was probably some good advice in there somewhere) The banner was sang and spangled. And then there was the gun, and us in our uncomfortable shoes. And then? Things went kind of downhill.

I know this isn't brief, but I'll try and keep it Cliff Notesy. Before you've traveled 100 feet there is a knee-deep pool of water. And then a second. Whee. It was here I was almost elbowed in the face. (In case you're wondering, it's hard to run in water. In boots) And when I exited the 2nd pool...that's about when my boots decided to keep the water in them. For the rest of the run. And as we went up our first hill and down the massive ski hill and hit the bottom to re-group, that's when I realized this wasn't going to be a proper run at all. What you had was:

• A trail run. Complete with all the lousy ass hills. And they were steep. And many. Even unencumbered and in trail shoes it'd have been challenging. And they were. I confess that by the last hill, I almost gave up. I'm not proud.
• The trail was punctuated by mini-ponds. That smelled of sewage. By the 2nd pond, you didn't notice.
• Dickhead Course Guides. Oh, they thought they were funny. But they would say stupid shit like "Last hill!!!" or "It's all downhill after this!" around the 3rd or 4th mile. Which is dick race behavior. (Never give a runner false information about the course. Ever.) I had to quell a fight at mile six when another runner started shouting at a course guide that they were lying (In regards to the final distance. I told them there was only .2 miles remaining)
• Injuries. Our team sustained a few, with the visible ones being some nasty bruises/abrasions. There were these successive "hurdles" made out of logs which got progressively higher. At this point, my boots were so sodden that swinging my leg over was akin to swinging a ball and chain. Meaning, I'd throw my leg and it the momentum would take you farther than anticipated. Which meant the last one I went up, over, back down, and landed flat on my back knocking the wind out of me and seeing stars. It was so loud, Moda screamed.
• The shoe debacle...Those...f#cks. I would have been fine with my trainers. More than fine. Besides feeling like I had two cinderblocks tied to my feet (Go on. Strap on three leg weights. I'll be here. Go upstairs. Then back down. No fun, huh?) The silt and mud wedged it's way into the top most portion, causing a mounting pressure. I've never experienced swollen ankles but my feet were pins and needles by the end. I lost a sole and was running off-kilter due to being 1/2 taller on one side. (If you see the picture of Moda and I finishing? That's not a strong finish) I had to throw my boots away at the end.
• IT WAS FIXED! Not really. But after the one, ONE obstacle I couldn't do (The cargo net ladder. I got to the top, and couldn't get my heavy foot over. Sorry) there was a rope walk with a rope to hold onto. And the assholes started shaking the rope midway across. I actually looked at the gal doing it and very seriously and deadly told her not to touch the fucking rope. At that point I would have went back and threw her in the water below us. (Thing is, I later found out they were video taping that point and wanted some footage of people falling in for the website next year)

But we made it. The last of our team. We finished at about 2:20, more than double either of our PRs for "normal" 10Ks. We could barely walk back to the car and slowly disrobed and changed. We didn't even have the energy to get hosed off...we just got into dry clean clothes and called it a day.

Did I mention my 45 minute shower? Yeah. I ate a pound or so of mud when we did the crawl toward the end. That was the worst. Not being able to see came in second. I think I went through 17 Q-tips just trying to flush out my ears. Gross Gross Gross...

And do you want to know the really, really fucked up thing? After all that grousing and complaining. After all that pain? After doing what is now arguably one of the toughest physical challenges I've ever engaged in? Even harder than the 1/2 marathon?

Is talking about what we'd do differently next year. Shoes. Clothes. (My Spidey shirt? Big Badda Idea. The first water hazard I took in all this mud and water. It looked like total muffin top. And since I tucked in my shirt, it stayed. Yummy) Definitely a pair of trail shoes or something that won't retain water. And an UnderArmour top that has a tight lycra turtleneck. And...

What? I mentioned it was for a good cause, right?





The first "under" hazard. We had yet to become our dirtiest. And at least we didn't have to submerge on this one.

Around mile 4-5. Amy, Michelle (We adopted her when her team bailed) Pog (Trying to hide from Predators) Moda, and I. I'm not smiling. I'm unhappy.
The posed ending. At one point, our team was clothed in vibrant colors. The true ending had me wanting to leave and get a beer. Some dude told me walking backwards helped him to his car.
Pam N' Sam...our alter egos. Moda looks like she's mall-walking and I managed to make a running pose but we're actually doing a zombie shuffle to get across the finish line. Not pictured, mud-streaked tears of anguish.