What began as a pretty mellow morning remained that way for a few hours longer.
John casually juiced a second round. This time a combination of kale, spinach, apple, pear, banana, and strawberries.
Nom nom nom….slurp!
(That’s what she said)
We drove to the Dirty Girl Mud Run based on my directions.
HW 81N to exit 180 or 181…and then I figured it would be obvious.
The cigarette lighters in the car are broken, so we haven’t been using the gps for much lately. I turned it on while we sat in a grocery store parking lot. While I plugged in info, John sliced up a few slices of the YUMMY gluten free bread I baked a few days ago. He put some chocolate hazelnut butter on them and BLAMMO!!!!!!
Instant mouth orgasm.
Nom nom nom!
We found Fern and Lisa relatively quickly.
While we waited in line, cracking jokes, taking pictures, people watching, and basking in the excitement of her first muddy event ever and my first muddy event since the parasite, I began to overhear a woman complaining loudly behind us.
“UGH. I will NEVER run another one of these. It’s so disorganized! Where are the safety pins?”
“UGH. They don’t even give the numbers and the pins out together. UGH!”
“They need to have clearer signs…What is that? (pointing to a very obvious situation where one side ran out of gear) Why do they have arrows pointing to the other side? What, are we supposed to go there, too?!?”
“UGH….I will NEVER run another of these events AGAIN!”
“UGH!!!! Do we have to wait in ANOTHER LINE!!??!!??!!”
I smiled a small smile for the poor woman who was simply taking herself, her health, and well the moment for granted that very instant.
I sent her good energy, then quietly quipped to my lover, “I guess that’s what happens when you have an all female event. I’ve never heard so much complaining simply waiting in line before the race even begins!”
(I have my funny moments!!!)
Honestly, though…my heart wants to weep for those that are so easily irritated by things that are so so very, very small.
Really, you are standing in line with your friends.
The weather’s sunny.
We’re about to jump in mud…
What could possibly be wrong with a combination like that!?!?!
I thought back to these days:
I couldn’t come up with an answer.
(Though..there was a large group of women searching desperately through a mud pit at the end of the day. When I asked what they were looking for, they didn’t respond with contact. They responded with tooth. So, now I can answer with loosing a tooth in a mud pit could suck, but not in that moment.)
For me, I was where I’d wanted to be for the last seven months, since I nearly died a gnarly death by parasite.
You simply could not slap the smile off my face.
I wore it loud and proud.
By loud…I mean…
I screamed my head off just about the ENTIRE TIME!
You think I’m bad in Zumba!?!?!
I couldn’t help it!
It was like the pent up energy of the last seven months was giving me constant, yet completely random good games that made me hop, skip, yip, and yell.
I started mud fights almost immediately! (immediately if you begin timing from when we hit the mud…)
I started running immediately as well, although it was at the same pace everyone was walking around me!
Once the crowd thinned out and we got to run a little more quickly, we hit our first sticky mud section. Stefanie got her foot caught in the mud, so (like the amazing friend I am) I stood a few inches out of her reach and just piled mud on her back (by throwing it) instead of assisting.
Same thing happened to Michelle…I, of course, acted on cue.
I got all four of the lovely ladies with my signature mud neck rub therapy (Picture casual slap on the back in greeting to hide the pressure of the sign newly affixed to your victim. Now replace slap with pat, back with neck, and sign with big, sloppy pile of cool, dripping mud.)
This, in turn, got me thrown into a mud pit, fed mud (yeah I said it!!!), and attacked regularly (with mud grenades!!!) throughout the race. 😀
Just how I like it.
The run went without a hitch. It turns out constantly feeling like I’m at mile 40 of 50 isn’t so bad when I’m only running a 5K.
Honestly the hardest part of the day for me was the cold water.
The first time we ran through water, it was just to our shins.
Out of shock and pain.
Seven gazillion tiny daggers pierced me wherever the water touched. I winced and cried out involuntarily through every step.
The thing is…sometimes when I’m in pain and I’m running through it, I just run faster.
Especially when I’m wincing and crying out every stride.
Don’t worry about making sense of it. My run team at DLI couldn’t figure it out either.
The absolute hardest obstacle for me was a single puddle. It went up to my waist.
I thought someone must have taken a chainsaw to my hips, but my legs were still moving. It didn’t make sense.
It hurt so badly… I laughed through my wimpers.
Yep, THAT bad….
Speaking of maniacal laughter, my favorite part of running this race (aside of seeing my lover supporting this momentous occasion from the sidelines) was easily how many heart rocks I could see.
One called out to me clearly about halfway through the race. I carried it with me to the finish.
The Universe sent its praise and love, as did my father, as did my lover.
I’m so lucky. So very lucky.
The bottom line is this:
I told you I would run again.
I did it.
I ran with some of the coolest women I know!
Take that, slug!