Question: The list below are all titles of what?
A. ) OPI’s latest nail color palette?
B.) The 2013 AVN Nominees for “Best in Porn”?
C.) The 12 obstacles at Warrior Dash Connecticut?
Great Warrior Wall.
Two X Fall.
If you said “C!” You win a turkey leg, a face full of mud and a belly full of laughs. “A” was close. And “B” was dirty. Piggy.
Tina and I were silly, filthy participants in Warrior Dash Connecticut, a mud filled obstacle race in Thompson “Are-We-Still-Really-in-Connecticut?”, CT. I’m clearly late with the race recap. The Dash was in September. But honest to christ, between the 9 Half Marathons, 2 Five Milers, 2 20ks, a 10k snow shoe race, a few handfuls of 5ks, several duathlons, a 200-mile Pan Mass Challenge, and soon to be 3 marathons between us, we’ve been distracted.
Where was I? Oh. Warrior Dash.
That shit is FUN.
If you haven’t considered jumping on the trendy obstacle mud run train, DO IT. At least once. (Don’t however jump on the high waisted shorts train. That’s awful. And not fun. On anyone. Yeah, I’m talkin’ to YOU Taylor Swift. ) This is my 3rd Red Frog Event. All have been of the Warrior Dash kind. Each one has been different. All have been roughly 3-4 miles with about a dozen obstacles. All have been incredibly well run. All have left me laughing and caked with mud. Mud, Fire and Turkey Legs. That’s the Warrior Dash Cliff Notes. It’s a blast. And unlike our previous 2 races (read here and here), we REALLY WANTED to run this baby. Why? Because sometimes you just shouldn’t take yourself so seriously. So “I am a Serious Runner, Who Runs Marathons, Dammit.” Bitch please. Lighten up! And that’s just what we did.
We haul our Warrior Asses to Thompson, Connecticut in time for the noon heat. Debate whether we have crossed state lines more than twice, tie bandanas to our heads, grab our “You May Die” signed waivers and head over to packet pick up to grab our bib, T-shirt and Hagar the Horrible Horns! Yahoo!! Lets do this!! On our way, I bump into several friends. Tina decides I am the Mayor of Warrior Dash. I laugh, wave, and mouth “Call Me” to my peeps. She closes her eyes and slowly shakes her head.
I double knot my sneaks. Tight. I start to think I should have brought duck tape to strap those suckers on. [Note: last year I lost my right shoe in the La Brea Mud Pit within the first half mile of the dash. I Warrior-ed on, with one shoe. The. Whole. Damn. Way. Badass? Yes. Although I did need a farrier and 3 pedicures to mend My Right Foot.] We find Diva Cindi and Her Fast Kids and head to the start. You’ll hear more about Diva Cindi. She’s a riot. And she’s known me since I was born. Literally. Love, love her.
Boom! We’re off and running! Tina and I are together! Kid 1 sprints off and Kid 2 is with us. Diva Cindi is just behind us. We hit the first obstacle. My sneaks are on. They’re actually cutting off the circulation in my feet but whatevs. I fling my legs over the Deadman’s Drop I slip. I somehow manage to avoid dying and chipping every tooth in my head. I catch myself. I’m hanging in an iron cross a la Mitch Gaylord circa 1984 Olympics. I am practically quartered. OUCH. I am bruising by the second. Holy hematoma. Onward Warrior! Over! (Non-bloody) Chin Up Buttercup! We scale walls! Walk planks! Crawl under barbed wire! Jump over cars! Get soaked with ice water! We watch a guy have a total anxiety attack and fall off of a wall mid climb, petrified in the fetal position! GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER PAL! We toss Xanax at him and…WARRIOR ON!
We Finish, hands clasped! Dash Complete!!!
We drank copious amounts of bad beer.
We didn’t take ourselves seriously- and we still kicked ass.
Well, we ARE Warriors after all.