Give Me the Mudd, Save Me the Tough

This Saturday I will be in the beautiful Pocono Mountains. Oh yes, refreshing nature at its finest and far away (well, 3.5 hours) from the crispy, well-manicured lawns of the snotty McMansions I pass every day in my cookie-cutter suburban community.

Photo courtesy of realtown.com

The Poconos is a popular retreat destination for families and singles, friends and couples all across the nation who are ski and snow lovers. Come summer, there is still plenty to do. The budding of trees and arrival of spring weather is inviting to those who want to hike, fish, camp, or simply kick back in a quaint bed and breakfast on a lake.

That is not why I am going. Well, sure the nature aspect will be great, but I am going to be so high on nerves that the only nature I will most likely get to see is the pretty green grass should I pass out or give up my breakfast.

I am participating in Tough Mudder. Dubbing itself, “Probably the toughest event on the planet,” this 11 mile obstacle course and run is three full days away. I have got my running gear, (Under Armour, gloves, old sneakers and a pink bandanna) and I am ready to rock.

Not quite. See, I am a food lover, a beer lover, a… try everything once lover. So when Tough Mudder was suggested to me by my good friend Zoë over at SexyTofu.com, I had to say yes. At the same time, I knew giving up the foods and beers I indulge in quite often would be no easy task.

If you want a good reason to laugh at me and my appropriately named team, “Team Boozehounds,” click right here to see a virtual map of our day’s obstacle course. Ha ha ha, electroshocks.

Here is how I have been working out. Try not to feel sorry for me, I know it will be hard.

Lots of running! I have shed 10 pounds in the past two months by running at least two miles a day. There are days when I hit five miles, but that takes a lot out of me. I figure with 600 people starting at the same moment, there will be down time. Am I kidding myself? We shall see.

I have been doing lots of crunches with a medicine ball. I went to Walmart and scooped up this $10 weight ball-thingy (that is what I like to call it) and YouTube’d pretty girls with small waists doing the ball-thingy the right way. Motivating!

Oh, but Mondays come and I get thirsty. Weird that the first work day of the week is my bar night. There is usually some sports game on (Go Yankees!) and I can sit on my butt and enjoy 20 cent wings and $3 dollar drafts and not have to worry about waking up for classes the next day until 10 a.m. Problem: wings and beer.

Case solved. I bought a jump rope. Oh no no, it is not just some ordinary rope for jumping happily in the school yard. Focus your attention on the jump rope’s evil twin, the speed rope!  

The difference? I have no idea. I bought it because the guy on the package was sweating with a sensual grin on his face, abs in check and  calves like Iron Man. Good job, marketing execs!

What am I in for? Ice baths, monkey bars, 15 foot rope climbs and death marches up the ski slopes. Hopefully all the speed rope training I have been partaking in helps in some way. If anything, at least I can regain some confidence by showing up at some school’s reccess and beating the crap out of those weirdos who use… jump ropes.

Think of me on Saturday. Think of Team Boozehounds and think about my incessant fear of enclosed spaces, and at that time I will most likely be at the Boa Constrictor obstacle, in which I will have to crawl in small tubes- people in front and in back of me- while trying my best to keep my head above icy cold water so I can, you guessed it, breathe!

Until then, I am going to make myself a sandwich. Not on rye, not on wheat, but on white. I am going to include a pickle and an iced tea and I am going to cry. At the end of the day, and granted that day includes a living Sarah, I will be able to say I did something so great for myself. I can knock another accomplishment off the list of never-ending sought after accomplishments.

Break Time, Cheers!