The Tough Mudder

So...I'm running the Tough Mudder.
What is the Tough Mudder?
If, like me, you're too lazy to type "tough mudder" into google, here's a link: http://toughmudder.com/

It's the world's hardest endurance race. Designed by British Special Services, it's 7- 12 miles of crazytown obstacles and feats of derring-do.
Some of the highlights include:
*Crawling through snow (daunting in a tank top)
*Running through a brush fire (exactly how do they control 8' flames again?)
*Trying to stay on course while you get pounded on both sides by protest-breaking power hoses (my friend suggested we "practice" this one. Holy Jesus.)
*And my personal favorite: running through a field of 10,000 volt live wires (what goes better with a jog than a mild electrocution?)

I was under the impression it was relatively safe until I read the medical waiver and basically had to stipulate that I would not sue them if I died. Which made me nervous, but I could understand. Accidents happen. Some people have died from an undiagnosed cavity in their molar. They can't be responsible for freak occurences.

But, I also had to agree that I would not sue if I lost any limbs, suffered any major brain or nerve damage, heart "episodes" or any other permanently debilitating injury.

That's when I started to panic.

But, panic or no, I plowed ahead anyway. The very worthy Wounded Warrior Project has my $200 and I'm in.

To be honest, in the past month, I've mentally adjusted to the seemingly scary ones. I can't really prepare for moderate electrocution and partial frostbite. It will just be what it is when it is.

But, the thing that has me most freaked out is running. Uphill. For miles. While RUNNING.

I'm not a runner.

I can walk for thousands of miles. I can stairmaster for days. I'm a-okay with lifting heavy things repeatedly. And I can go for hours on a dance floor without a break.

But, running...ugh.

Running seems to highlight the sins of everything I've ever eaten, drunk, smoked or
absorbed. 3 minutes into every run, it's like a get a physical clip-show of every harmful thing I've ever done to my body. My stomach boils, my lungs collapse, my head pounds and flashes of late night shots, deep fried mozzarella sticks and hazy Vegas moments flicker before my eyes.

In general, my body was not designed for this shit. I'm a curvy lady. I've got fat in pretty places. And having boobs and hips and a juicy heiny is aces when you're in a dress and heels. It's less convenient when you're slamming those extra bits up and down against asphalt.

Good runners always look the same - like tight, compact, genderless robot machines.
They don't look like Mae West or Sofia Vergara (Modern Family).

For good reason. It's inconvenient to have extra fat (pretty or no) when running. Amidst your crushed lungs and acid throat you also have to deal with a constant jiggle, sway, lift, SLAM!, wiggle, shimmy, lift, SLAM!, waddle, jiggle, lift, SLAM! rhythm of your breasts and hips fighting this torturous activity known as "running".

Try to go running in a Jell-O suit with 5lb weights tied to your nipples and you see where I'm coming from.

So, the thought of a few thousand volts of electricity temporarily stopping my pacemaker is far less daunting than the thought of running...uphill...for MILES.

Wish me luck!


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