Sunday, October 2, 2011

Dirty Girl

It's true.  I'm a dirty girl.  More often than not, my mind goes straight to the gutter when even the most innocent comments are uttered.  Heh.  Uttered.  Uddered.  Boobs.  *sigh*  Does this fall under the category of character flaw?  I suppose it's time I admit that immaturity and a love of sophomoric humor and fart jokes will always be my Achilles heel.  So be it.

Anyhoo, this post is about a more literal kind of dirty.  Last weekend I "ran" my first 5K.  And I LOVED it.  It was the Dirty Dash.  A 5K mud obstacle course race.  Months ago when I mentioned to E2 that I might do this he just laughed and said "Yeah, right.  You?  Run?" 


I told my parents about it.  My Dad thought the idea was great.  My Mom, with more than a hint of disdain in her voice said  "Oh.  So basically it's a wet t-shirt contest but with mud."

Huh?  What?  No Mom.  It's nothing like a wet t-shirt con...ya know, just..nevermind.

My coworker/friend Erin got a team together (Nor-folk-n-chance.  How awesome is that name?) and ordered us all matching, painfully bright, t-shirts.  Under normal circumstances say no to day-glow, but in this case it helped us keep track of each other.  At least for the first 5 minutes of the race, before it looked like we'd all been dipped in a toilet full of runny poo.

I want to post different pictures of the whole team, but I didn't ask anyone's permission and I'm pretty sure that's against the law or something and I don't wanna end up in jail.  I don't look good in orange and I don't typically befriend people with names like Big Bertha.  I'm kind of a snob like that.  So I'm just going to post a team picture of the end of the race where everyone is covered in mud and basically unidentifiable anyway and hope that doesn't count.  Except for Erin's dog Zero.  I'm posting a couple of him because he's a dog and we all know animals don't get or deserve any kind of animal rights or protection of any sort.  Am I right??

So, in typical narcissistic fashion, this post will be about me.  Let's get started.

Pristine and clean before the race.  Loved Zero's paw bands.

The cleanliness was short-lived.

This was the moment things went downhill fast.  I tried to take out Erin, slipped, and barely managed to keep my head above mud.  Her boyfriend and fellow teammate called it instant Karma.  Oh how I hate that bitch.  Karma, that is.  

So much better than any slip 'n slide.  However, a little tip you would assume to be self evident, keep your mouth closed.

I'm not British.  I just don't follow my own tips. 

Proof that there WAS some actual running involved.  My shoes felt like 5 pound bricks at this point.

Yes, that is a knee high mud pit.  Jealous yet? 

Nor-folk-n-chance in all our nasty glory at the finish line. 

I'm not gonna lie.  Cleanup was a bitch.  I'm still blowing mud out of my nose, I think my left ear is permanently clogged with mud and my shoes will never be the same.  I can't wait for next year!

I wonder if anyone could tell that I peed in the last mud hole?