Mud Run Notes--Part 2

Well one thing I learned in college is how to speak French. Here is the other: The grass never lasts long enough. Before I know it I am back in sand…..Up a hill, down a hill. Up a hill, down a hill. This route is very poorly planned.

I cross a bend and actually had a thought, “Why do they call this a mud run?” I really wish I had been thinking about tonight’s lotto numbers. So, I have to crawl through the first of the mud pits...all around are Navy guys cheering me on which I haven’t had since the last time I was at the Tailhook convention. So I come up with a new though that sustains me. If I don’t finish this the terrorists win.

We then come up on a long stretch of road. Now I had been thinking I would punch Mother Theresa in the lips for asphalt, so now I am feeling incredibly guilty. This whole series led me to blank out for an uneventful mile, most of which involves a Contessa Brewer fantasy I will now share with you. It seems that aliens have abducted my wife and children, but they have wired back that they are safe and that they’ve put them in some sort of suspended animation. They also mention that they are having dreams of eating delicious fat-free ice cream and playing with puppies. So they’re good.

Well I become a media darling. I am interviewed by MSNBC, which leads millions of women to swoon for me. Kind of like Sleepless in Seattle, which I saw on a date with my ex-wife and HATED but then watched it again after a couple of years of marriage. Wait, the wife dies…he keeps the kid and he gets to date??? FEEL GOOD HIT OF THE SUMMER!!

Anyhow, Contessa tells me back stage that since they are in suspended animation I am free to do as I want. Well, one thing leads to another and…

SON OF A ***** Another water station.

So now begins a winding series of dunes, followed by dunes, and finally dunes.

It’s at this point that I am fine with the terrorists winning. Congratulations Bill O’Reilly. You cracked me.

The real insult here is that every 20 feet there is another Navy guy tell you you’re almost done. This kind of psyops is the stuff they get to make terrorists crack. Great. Turns out I am no where near done.

Hills. Hills. Hills. Seriously, Lauren Conrad doesn’t hear about this many hills.

Now here is another fact about me that explains why I have to trade out wives every 7 years or so. I only have one joke. So every time I pass an attractive woman (or more likely , she passes me). I say, “I was told that there would be no running as a part of this.” Well, I am cracking myself up here. And as it turns out only me.

So we come around a final bend and the mother of all mud pits is ahead of me. So I crawl through screaming “Wolverines” making a reference that even most of the cast of Red Dawn doesn’t think is funny.

I finished in about 67 minutes. Earlier this year, I ran my first 8k on the road (oh sweet delicious asphalt) and finished it in about the same time. So in 5 months, I have increased my fitness to the point where I can ruin through muck in the same time as that old guy.

I hope this impresses Contessa.