Show Me the Muddy!

Way back on the first of the year, Mom asked me if I was interested in joining her at the annual Mud Race at Camp Pendleton. I said, "Sure. Why not?" So five months later my alarm went off at 4:15am. Whew! That was a doozie! This came after a week of moving and cleaning and then a wedding the night before. What a week! I was exhausted. We drove up to Camp Pendleton and arrived at a little after six in the morning. The instruction had encouraged us to arrive three hours before the race. Why? We have no idea. There were still people arriving an hour before the race. Next year we'll be one of those people. We spent the three hours walking around, stretching, and people-watching. There were a few people in costumes. There were teams with funny names, like Show Me the Muddy!, All You Need is Mud, and Muddy Mamas. One team, while I can't remember the team name, was a group of Believers. Their logo was something about being dirty on the outside, but knowing Who could make you clean on the inside. When the race finally began we jogged in place for quite a while as the throngs of people tried going in the same direction. We ran for a few meters before having to stop again to wait in the people-traffic. We again started running and we ran right until I began getting a stitch in my side. I didn't mind the running for the first four miles, or so, however, I have never been able to control my breathing while jogging and always get those painful spots in my side. Saved by the traffic... things stopped moving again as the thousands of people moved from the wide street and onto a wood trail. Camp Pendleton was beautiful. We took trails through the woods, ran through a few small muddy creeks, and up hills that never seemed to end. We ran through a group of buildings the Marines use for training. It looked like a ghost town. Marines were stationed through out with water guns. Ever so often we had to run by fire trucks that had the fire hose on full blast. Well, not the fire hose that blows people around the street, but a running fall of cold water. If you weren't wet, a marine would make sure you weren't left out. It was fun seeing these military men on the sides of the road. They would encourage us, let us know how many miles we had left, screamed at the men who were running behind women, and tell us to go faster! It was funny. It was encouraging, too. About four miles into it was when the mud really began! It was a blast! There were slippery hills to get over, mud rivers three or four feet deep to wade through, walls to climb over, tunnels, tummy crawls, and one large lake with very cold water. It was so much fun! Considering I didn't train an ounce for my first race ever I was proud of myself for running as much as I could, walking quickly when I needed the break, finishing under two hours, and not being terribly soar the next day. When we were done we changed out of our muddy clothes, washed our faces, and snacked on a protein bar. The first three times I blew my nose mud came out onto the tissue! My mom and I had a great time and are already talking about doing it next year.

The pictures don't show the lovely glow of brown we had. Just know that those socks used to be white.