Dirty Girls

I hope I didn’t mislead you with the title…okay, okay, I intentionally misled you with the title, selfishly hoping you would think this blog was about something sexy, when really, it’s about actual dirt. Or mud, to be more precise. I mean, you could, conceivably, find something sexy about mud, I guess. It takes all types of people (freaks) to make the world go ’round, as they say.

So, yeah. Saturday, I ran (please understand that when I say “ran”, I really mean “jogged”, “walked” and towards the end “trudged” and “limped”) an  obstacle course called the Mud Run. It says it is 5 miles, on the website. In the information packet they emailed me, it says “approximately 5 miles”, which I optimistically took to mean less than five miles. Somewhere within the first quarter mile, I was informed by my teammate that it was actually 6 miles. I’m glad she told me AFTER  the race had started.

I realize that it is now Tuesday. I would have written about it sooner, only I have been basically crippled since about five minutes after completing the event. The simple act of sitting down on the toilet has become a very painful process. My pelvic area is not doing so well- the only other time it felt like this, I was minutes away from giving birth. I’m not sure if this is normal or not, but I feel reassured by a conversation I had this morning with my sister-in-law, Andrea ( the other senior citizen on our otherwise 20 something team ), who apparently only today was able to get out of bed. Yep, since the minute the adrenaline from actually completing the race wore off, I have been a little bit sore. I make a lot of noise when I stand up, sit down, move or breathe. Other than that, I am totally fine.

In my defense, I only found out three weeks prior to the race that I was going to be on the team. My other sister-in-law broke her foot and got pregnant (not necessarily in that order) so she dropped out. If you have been reading my blogs, you know that I smoke. You know that I am rather chubby, presently. You may or may not know how sucky my exercise routine is- hell, I didn’t realize it until this! I knew it wasn’t great, but I had no idea I was in this bad of shape. So you may be asking yourself WHY a person with all these issues would have said YES when asked to participate. Here is my answer- I have no idea.

I guess because someone I love asked me to. And because I had wanted to do it when I first heard about it months and months ago (time I could have spent preparing for this thing) but I had not one friend able to commit to doing something with me. Yes, it does irritate me, thanks for asking. It looked like fun! I mean, it was called a “Fun Run”, so it had to be fun, right? Hmm…and also because I wanted to see if I could. I think the biggest reason behind why I was able to do it was this- I absolutely did not think about it at all, nor did I google it, mention it or allow myself to contemplate what I was undertaking at any time prior to last Saturday.

Well, except for that tiny little moment Saturday morning, while I was sitting on my porch with my book and my coffee, (yes, smoking) when out of nowhere I was utterly consumed with panic.

“What the HELL was I THINKING?!!” screamed me, in my head. “I can’t do this. No way. No way, no way, no way!” And that was that. There was no turning back now.

So, it was freezing cold. The shirt I had to wear was too small, but I will say this, it really accentuated my fat roll. There were a lot of people there that seemed very excited to be doing this, and to know what, exactly, it was that they were doing. I suppose I could have educated myself a little better about what was ahead of me. I was really running with the whole “ignorance is bliss” thing.

The first thing they made us do was group exercise, which included push-ups on gravel. I thought that was a little mean. Also, we had to do lunges, which for some reason, I don’t seem to be coordinated enough to do. I know, I know, it’s bending your KNEES, for heaven’s sake! This should give you some idea of what I was up against. Then, we all stood around for a minute, the starting gun went off, and we took off…sorta. What actually happened is we slowly started moving forward, a lot like the line for a roller-coaster at a busy theme park in July (if July was freezing). Little by little, space opened up around us as we moved along.

The first sign that this may not go well was when I wanted to die at the quarter mile mark. I didn’t say anything, but I was a little frightened. Then, we finally got to the first mud pit. I gotta admit, this was one of the highlights for me- where else, as a thirty six year old woman, do you get to dive into a giant mud puddle? I kinda wish I hadn’t ripped my knuckle off bashing it into the ground under all that mud, but oh well. Small price to pay. So there were several of those mud pits. There were some incidents with walls to be climbed over- you’d think a five foot wall would be no big deal, but when you’re climbing over it, it’s different. There were sand dunes and steep hills and six miles is really, really far to run. But I did it. We all did. And we weren’t even the last ones to finish. I have taken a few baths a day since the race to ease the pain in my muscles, and also to count the insane amount of bruises covering my poor body. But I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Just not for another few months, that’s all.

In closing, I would like to say this to my teammates: Andrea- Other than the fact that you made me swear on my life I’d walk with you, only to then get some demonic burst of energy and abandon me, I still love you and I’m so glad you asked me to come along. Jenny, I’m really sorry our fat asses held you back when you’ve been training like a champ for MONTHS now. I would like to point out that I had little notice, but even if I had, I probably still would’ve been a whiny little bitch. Darcie- we didn’t talk much, but you seem like a nice kid. I hope you aren’t pissed that you got saddled with my old, chatty ass. And Haley- I hope your knee feels okay, and that you got tons of sympathy tips at work that night! You deserve it!

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “Dirty Girls

  1. I just peed on myself, I think it’s because I laughed so hard while reading this but then again you called me a senior citizen, lolol…. Demonic burst of energy babahhahahahahahha! I’ll never forget the faint sound of you yelling, “Andrea!” as I got further and further away determined to run to the top of that hill, I assure you I was wheezing and gasping for breath before you made it. WE DID IT COURTNEY! And I love you too! xoxox

    Like

  2. There was a lot more I wanted to say, but it was getting a little long winded…I can’t stop thinking about the next one in Hollister, the one I am DEFINITELY not doing. I mean, I can’t. Right? It’s shorter than the last one…hmm…

    Like

  3. You CAN do it! Its all a matter of mind over body. I am REALLY proud of both you girls for finishing and sticking with it.

    Like

  4. I’m new to this blog scene thing. Yours was one of the first I read and all I can say is hilarious! I’m fortunate to come across pure randomness -which is exactly what my posts will develop into. I now know that yes, people do read pure randomness of other people’s lives, and yes, they do like it. I LOVE it. You’re a glimpse of me as a “senior citizen” 🙂

    Like

    1. I’m so glad you liked it! I am pretty new to this, too- I think I started in February. There’s a lot I don’t know, yet. But I really enjoy doing it, anyway, (much like many things in my life!)Thanks a lot for your feedback! I can’t wait to check out your stuff.

      Like

  5. Hahaha, great story, and kudos to you for stepping in and doing something that’s obviously pretty tough even when you’ve had preparation. *claps*

    Like

Everyone has an opinion...let's hear yours!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s