After I hit snooze once, I was then forced out of my warm, comfy, cozy bed by Rick James singing "Super Freak". Not in person. Thank goodness. Being serenaded by a ghost would have definitely driven me back to bed.
I didn't start to get really nervous until my husband asked me if I was worried about getting mud on my glasses. Um. I wasn't. I am now. Thanks for that by the way.
My feet were wet before the gun went off. 5 minutes in my legs were mud splattered.
|shoes are much worse then they appear|
By mile 6, I had come to terms with the fact that my feet were starting to freeze. The rest of the miles are a blur of attempting to dodge puddles (and usually failing), trying not to slip, and trying not to sing too loudly so that other runners wouldn't hate me.
It was great fun.
Sure, I'm tired, and I can say with certainty that everything below my knees is going to hurt tomorrow, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
|racing to the finish|