“So, Mindy. I plan on taking the kids on this obstacle course thing. The Dirty Dash 2014. Pretty much we jump around in mud, race across a field, climb stuff. In mud. K?”
Forcing back my germaphobic tendencies and involuntary eye tick I calmly respond, “Uh, no.”
And so it went, back and forth, until Hubs enthusiastically convinced me how life-changing this foray through organized mud pits would be for the kiddos.
They would gain confidence. (And bacteria exposure.)
They would practice perseverence. (And breathing through one mud-packed nostril).
It would be a bonding experience for all. (Plus the added bonus of their pants bonding to their mud encrusted buttocks.)
So, yeah. Pretty much a win-win.
After packing my Dirty Dash essentials survival bag (noted below) we hit the road for an adventure of a lifetime!
- Clean Towels
- Clean Clothes
- Water Bottles
- New Shoes – you get to donate your old crusty muddy ones right there on sight!
- Wet Wipes – I mentioned the mud encrusted buttocks, no?
Despite my skepticism, worry, nerves and general neurosis I was sold at the Start. What a fun event! Given the varying of start times, and ours being late afternoon we walked into what appeared to be a time warp from back in the sixties. There were muddy people lounging in the sun everywhere. A Woodstock-esque moment. I was beginning to expect to see folks making love instead of war while mellowing out to some Dylan and weaving flower chains to encircle their heads. But, no. All I saw was a bunch of people taking selfies and uploading pics to Instagram, so I knew we hadn’t gone anywhere.
After finding the official Start of the course and placing myself in an advantageous picture-taking position (duh, Insta-FabulousAdventure!) they signaled the start and off they went!
I couldn’t help but notice the smiles on my little family’s faces. I will admit, this helped almost immediately quell the rising fear that my kids would be contracting some crazy rare mud-borne illness and I’d be later explaining to the CDC, “You see…I tried to talk them out of it. But he wouldn’t hear of it.”
They. loved. every. minute. of. this. crazy. run.
They climbed. They jumped. They slid. They bounced. They floated. They did it all.
And Mama was at the finish line waiting with open arms and clean towels. Except the arms weren’t open to dirty, muddy people. Let’s be real. It was more of a metaphorical gesture, you feel me?
Given our experience I would rate the Dirty Dash an A+++ event. There’s charitable contribution. There’s camaraderie. There’s happy people. And there’s mud. Find a run in your local area and participate. You won’t regret it. (Except when you’re trying to scrub away the mud lodged up in areas even your mother didn’t tell you about.) But they tell me it’s worth it. And the million dollar smiles in the pics prove that I think.