July 21, 2013 by E.
Months and months ago, A. mentioned that he wanted to sign up for a tough-mudder style race. You know the ones – where a bunch of insane people pay a lot of money to run around in a field, shimmy under barb wire, jump into ice baths, and generally get more disgustingly muddy than you ever thought possible
When he found out that the Savage Race was coming to the DC area, A. asked me if I wanted to sign up with him. Because, you know, what else says true love like sloshing through a rural, possibly leech-infested, pond while carrying 20 pound logs on your shoulders?
Obviously, this prissy girl said thanks, but no thanks. Hell to the NO. Ew, ew, and more ew. So A. signed up for the race, while I signed up as a spectator. I promised to go and support him, but from a safe, clean distance, within proximity to the shaded tent, beer vendors, and live band that had been set up at the finish line.
Friday arrived, the day before the race. For dinner, A. requested carbs on carbs on carbs. He was taking this race thing seriously. As much as I’d like to have a dinner of mashed potatoes followed by rice followed by pasta, one of us has to fit into a wedding dress in a few months. So, we compromised. I whipped up a dinner of Carolina Gold Rice we’d purchased during our April Charleston trip, oven roasted pattypan squash and okra from our weekly CSA basket, plus marinated grilled chicken for him and Indian spiced grilled tofu for me.
I’ll be honest, tofu steak isn’t the most appetizing thing ever. Even A. will eat tofu if it’s mixed into a stir fry or soup, but eating tofu on its own isn’t usually a mouthwatering dish. But grilling it, ooh that takes it to an entirely new level. Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with a great smokey flavor. I’ve yet to eat any sort of grilled food that wasn’t amazing. A. wasn’t completely sold, but hey, we’re working on that 😉
Saturday race time arrived, and just as A. was lining up for his start time, we found out that spectators (that would be me) were allowed on the course, but not the obstacles, with the racers. Fine with me! Luckily, I’d dressed in gym clothes and running shoes that morning, and with all the music and excitement, I immediately volunteered to run the course with A., shooting photos as he faced the obstacles. It was the best of both worlds for me – an interesting trail course with limited (or so I thought) amounts of mud.
We both got a great workout, though obviously A.’s route was more physically demanding. Not to mention wetter/dirtier/nastier.
Even without completing the obstacles, I was covered in mud from my knees down. The mud was simply unavoidable. It was a lot of fun at the time, but not necessarily one we’re anxious to repeat. Caked on mud is a bitch to get off!
Has anyone else run a tough-mudder style race? Or thought about it? How much would they have to pay you to crawl through all that?