(If you ever write about characters who run frantically from zombies, chainsaw wielding yokels, or rabid animals, this makes for great research)
There’s nothing better on a Saturday morning than getting dirty. Innuendo aside, the MudDog Run 5k had multiple stream crossings, a sea of mud, climbing walls, and a slip-n-slide to die for. And mud. There was mud.
Here we are prior to the race. Notice the cleanliness.
As soon as the starting gun went off, we ran down a steep embankment and across a stream. Of course, when the stream is churned up from runners, it’s impossible to tell the footing or the depth. I prudently held back toward the rear, so I could see from all the face-plants where NOT to cross. I passed one woman hopelessly struggling to free herself from the quicksand of mud. She was stuck worse than a cow in a flash flood. Yes, I passed her. I did momentarily wish I had a tractor to pull her out, but I had a race to run. Hope she eventually got free.
There were more stream crossings than I could count. Sucking mud, slippery moss-covered rocks, embankments so steep I had to crawl up on my hands and knees. The last mud run I did, I got stuck halfway down the slip-n-slide and had to scoot myself along, so this time I launched myself on my belly and was shocked at how fast I rocketed down the hill. So fast that I caught air on the ‘speed bump’ at the end and wound up submerged in the muddy pool. I think there are pictures of it online somewhere. It was pretty spectacular.
Tunnels of mud, fields of mud, walls of mud. Then they made us army crawl through a vat of flour. Luckily there were three more stream crossings before the finish line to wash off the crusty wet dough.
“It’s deep,” the volunteers warned us at one. I was all ready to laugh at my friend Tammy as she went down, only to find myself face first in the water too. We both fell twice in that stream, and multiple times on the other two. The second to last stream, I slipped on the moss covered rocks and went down hard on my knees. Here’s a lovely photo of my devastating injury:
The last stream had an embankment so steep that it took me three tries to successfully get to the top. I literally had to dig my claws into the mud to pull myself up.
Here we are at the finish. Notice the lack of cleanliness.
It was an absolute blast, we got to enjoy a live band, and Flying Dog Brewery beer post race. Can’t wait for the next one!