Our friends, the Gweedos, participated in the Down and Dirty Mud Run in Folsom, CA. M and I attended as spectators. It was a bizarre scene that sort of reminded me of the Bank Holiday/Carnival in Knotting Hill where the revelers were covered in milk chocolate.
This was not milk chocolate at all.
Standing in the warm October afternoon air, we celebrated the fact that the Gweedos, hearts pounding in their ears, cscaled walls and scrambled through gravelly mud to cross the finish line. As we listened to the details of the adventure, I watched the mud dry on the field of folks around me. Most were we’re euphoric in the face of their accomplishments and, at the same time, horrified by all of the places mud can seep.
Seeing this firsthand made me grateful to be dry and clean.
shewhodaresnothing 