Yeah, that about says it all.
So, whenever anyone asks me to do a different kind of race, I am almost always up for the challenge.
200-mile relay? Why not!
Time trial bike race? Sign me up!
Obstacle course 5k where you run through fire and crawl through mud?
Wait - what?
Oh yeah - I was all on board for the "obstacle" part, but seems that when I was asked about this back on Easter, I must have been in a cheesecake/banana mousse coma and sort of missed the "jumping-over-fire" part.
When it was brought to my attention by Spie, it was too late. Money paid, deal on.
So without further ado, let me introduce you to the Warrior Dash.
The Warrior Dash is a 5k obstacle-course run. All of it is on trails and through wooded areas, and almost the whole thing consists of sloshing through mud.
I was told there were 12 obstacles, but I didn't count. And although I promised to take a disposable camera along, it's been a crazy weekend here at Chez Cheese, and I forgot.
We've got action pics of some of the obstacles, but for the rest, you'll have to deal with my often-tangential description.
The Warriors - Havilah (Ellen's sister-in-law), my brother-in-law Patrick, and me.
Me and the Preggo. A real warrior would have worn her Big Girl pants and hauled some ass through the mud pits. *shrugs* Guess we aren't all cut out for the horns.
Side note - what on Earth is Havi doing in the backgroud? We are supposed to EAT ninjas for lunch, not pose like one!
Sweet head gear. Once my fur lined panties arrives later this week, the REAL fun will begin, if you know what I mean.
And if you don't know what I mean, it means you're my 11-year-old neice sneaking peeks at my blog, and you shouldn't be reading this adult material anyway. So get off before I call your mom.
Either that, or you're on a dry spell. But dont' worry. I used to have dry spells too. It'll pass.
Anything look "off" in this picture? Nothing? Maybe it's just me...
All taped up, just in case. I had my orthodics in my shoes, which I wasn't about to part with, especially right in the middle of marathon training. Word on the street was that in the first (of two) mud pits, there were floating shoes from the poor souls that didn't think ahead to use duct tape.
Kissin' the guns.
Okay - so the gun that usually goes off is actually in the form of fire shooting out of two columns bookending the start line. We run underneath them, and dang, it's hot.
We run for about 1/2 mile, mostly over grass, with a few muddy hills and puddles thrown in. It's slippery, somewhat strecherous, and hard to keep the footing safe. First obstacle comes up, and we have to hurdle ourselves over a bunch of busted out cars in a busted-out-car graveyard.
Following that, we have to hurdle a bunch of walls - I basically run up, sit my fat stuff on the top, and toss my legs over. We rope climb up a muddle hills, army crawl through some large drainage piles, hurdle ourselves over a HUGE drainage pipe (that I actually slide right back down off of, and had to be boosted over with the help of a man behind me).
Enter first mud pit - I slid down a hill and right as I got to the bottom, I launched myself dive-style into the waist high mud water. I slopped through - feet getting stuck in the mud under the water, and then battled my way up the muddy incline at the other side. It was a joke trying to get footing.
It was right around here that I noticed everyone else walking.
Because trying to run soaking wet and covered in mud is like trying to run with ten pound weights on my ankles.
I got a couple of encouraging words from the walkers around me as I kept running.
I eventually rounded the corner to the open main field.
It's the hay stack climb.
I know it looks like I was sitting up there, but believe me you - I was not. I was stratagizing while trying not to tunble straight down on my face. Apparently it paid off too - Cheese told me that a couple people tried to run down (?!?!) and biffed on their faces.
Next up - the rope climb. Good thing I kissed the guns earlier - I really needed their help.
It was here that I also heard "GO IRONMEG!" coming from the crowd from none other than Iron Clyde!! Turns out his wife was running it and he was (perhaps for first time, Clyde?) being the spectator. Dude, it was AWESOME to hear that name be called out!
After these two obstacles, there was a tire-hop where you have to one-foot hop through a mess of tires, like a football player - only these were filled with mud and staggered in a way that forced you to leap more than actually hop. This was then followed by a series (like 16 or so) up and down hills - all riddled with big roots and mud holes.
Ahh, and for the moment we've all been waiting for.
The fire jump and mud pit. In video!
(I am the one in the white visor and white tank)
And just in case you couldn't really see me (or concentrate over Cheese's screaming), here is a up-close picture of my brother-in-law.
Nice of him to bring a little Christamas to June with his chestnuts and an open fire. Just hauling the ol' boys over the heat...
Same goes for the final mud pit - here is Havi, so you can see just how low and deep you have to get into it.
Can anyone out there explain how my entire being is crusted over with mud except for this one little spot right there on the bottom of my shirt?!?!
Me and my ten-pound ankle weights.
Me and my War Paint.
Me and Patrick
Puttin' a little (s)ass into it.
Well, as long as the mud made me sloppy, why shouldn't the beer?
Nom, nom, nom.
Real Warriors eat the grizzle.
Guess if you can't be one, marry one.
It was plain old stupid fun. Wet, sloppy, muddy, fun.
Oh, and did I also mention stinky? Hell yeah, it smelled like a massive turd from the second we stepped off the shuttle through the last mud pit - real people turd, too. I mean, could a race be MORE tailored to the girl who is chronically a shoelace-distance away from crapping her pants? And oddly, it actually made it more fun - thinking I was swimming in turd.
Now if THAT'S not an endorsement, what is?