Heretofore, this was pretty much true of me:
That changed when a friend invited me to run the Dirty Dash. The honest website and the video filled with happy people sloshing through mud created a brain lapse wherein I forgot that running a 5K would include running.
I told my brother that I was going to run a 5K. He just looked at me. “It’s not like that,” I tried to explain. “You’re running through the mud. And you jump over hay bales and run through tires and climb walls and go through tunnels.” He nodded and said, “I think this is going to go well.”
My own explanation made me see how ridiculous I’d been to agree to this run. I am not a runner. Nonetheless I began to practice jogging. I got better at it, but no one would mistake me for good.
And then came the day. I jogged – but not too much. Mostly I stared at obstacles and laughed with my team as we helped each other get over/under/through them. I had fun. I got muddy. It was hot, and it took us an unreasonably long time to finish, but we did it!