Getting Dirty in Rural Ontario

If someone ever suggests that you should sign up for a 6km obstacle course... through the mud, just say YES.

And I can say that, one day later, in spite of the fact that I am sitting here in so much pain that I cannot move.

I didn't listen to my husband and I ended up with this knee damage

Mud Hero costs about $60 to enter and there are events in major cities everywhere. We (Rod and I) signed up for the Ottawa event at Commando Paintball. We were hoping to go with a group of County people, but in the end it was just the two of us... and Muffy the dog.

Stayed over night at Rideau River Provincial Park about 4 km north of Kemptville, ON. Nice little park, with canoes to rent and plenty of play areas for kids. Only one walking trail along the river, though, which practically runs through other people's campsites and is not good for taking a dog who likes to be off-leash. The showers, thankfully, were really hot and powerful. After you've spent the day getting dusty and muddy, they were the perfect remedy.

Friday night, dinner at Gabriel's Pizza in Kemptville. Everything has to be takeout now that we have a dog. Lots of cheese, good price, good flavour for the sauce - Gabe's was a good choice.

So, we head out Saturday morning for the hour-long drive to the event east of Ottawa. Looking for a Tim Horton's, the mecca of rural Ontario, and there isn't one to be found along Snake Island Road. We eventually found one on Bank Street. Rodney kept asking them for porridge. They couldn't figure out he wanted oatmeal. Seriously, I understand oatmeal is a TYPE of porridge, but oatmeal is the only porridge available at Tim Horton's. Gah.

We get to the event and there are hundreds of people, soon-to-be-thousands of people. There is loud music, all-terrain vehicles, crowds, dust and other dogs on leashes under the hot sun. Muffy was a basket case. Surprisingly well-organized for such an event. Parking went off without a hitch, no significant lineups at registration. We were waiting at the starting line before we found out there were no dogs allowed on the course.

In my defense - the only rules about dogs on the website were that they had to be on leashes at all times. In their defense - who in the hell would want to take their dog through this muddy obstacle course? Hindsight was 20/20.

We thought about leaving her with some unknown spectators. We thought about saying "fuck it" and going home for some beer. In the end, Rod dropped the leash and took off for the 10 a.m. heat. I walked around for an hour, trying to discourage my dog from eating small children and tearing the fingers off of innocent bystanders. Just kidding; She did try to lick all of the little kids, but people seem to think the worst of her. It's because she's black, isn't it? One lady had the nerve to shake her finger at my dog when she was barking at a little, white mop/dog. She needn't have worried about Muffy, because if I had someone to hold the leash, I would have taken the old bitch down with my own teeth! That gets on my nerves - people can't mind their own business. My motto is, "You do you and I'll do me, and if we choose to disagree, go fuck yourself."

Finally found my husband after an hour and he was covered in mud. In his ears, in his nose, and his white t-shirt was black! He was giving me the low down on the course, including pointers like, "Tie your laces, REALLY tight" and "Keep the soles of your shoes clean" and "Stay to the outside". He was feeling good, full of endorphins, so I told him I lost the keys to the truck. Instant rage! Hahaha! I was just kidding, though. We got to the truck and he changed into some dry things. Then, I really did lose the keys to the truck. I had thrown them into my purse without thinking.

Back at the starting line, I give a good high-five to the MC and promptly got caught in the gridlock of 300 people waiting to wade through the first muddy creek.What should have been a two foot-deep, pool turned out to be waist-deep with a very soggy bottom. It was good to get muddy straight away. If nothing else, at least I got dirty.

Next up was the Hero Walls - basically, four and five foot wooden walls to climb over. I did fine until the walls were angled towards me and I was going to turn around and give up, but the lady behind me was not having it. "Do you want me to push you?" she asked. I decided I'd give it my best shot, so I hauled myself up with a strange woman's hands firmly on my ass. In my effort to get over the top, I felt a little bit of the excess mud from the creek push out of my vag. Great. This nice lady offers to help me over the first hurdle and I'm going to piss mud on her head. I didn't bother to look back when I got over the wall. I just kept going.

Men going over hurdles just lift one leg up and hop over the top. Women, however, will straddle the wall before they gently drop down the other side. I can guarantee there were alot of women with sore crotch bones on Sunday. Rodney can attest to this. He heard one of them exclaim as he raced by, "Jesus Christ, my crotch hurts!"

I managed to pass quite a few people in the obstacles. I'm not much of a runner, but I kept pace with the crowds. I pulled myself up Hamburger Hill, fell on my wrist after the frog spa, enjoyed the cool breeze through the deep woods, then got my foot caught in the Spidey Web obstacle and did another face plant.

It wasn't until I got to Crawdaddy Creek that I lost momentum along with my shoes. The mud was so thick and deep, I had to dig my first shoe out from a foot of slick muck. The effort caused me to push my other shoe even deeper and, in the end, I decided to proceed in my socks. At one point, I was just standing up and falling on my ass repeatedly. Crawdaddy Creek sucks. I spent the next fifteen minutes and half kilometer scraping excess muck out of my shoes. When I managed to get them back on, it felt like they were two sizes too small.

At one kilometer left, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, literally. I had to pull myself up through a culvert using only my boobs and a muddy rope. My technique is what I call "The Inch Worm", in which I grab the culvert with my boobs (don't laugh, this can be done) then I pull my bum up with my abs and move my boobs up a little more - just like an inchworm. My abs are killing me, but I made it to the other side.

The Kong - one of the last obstacles to congquer

I start thinking about that kid from the movie Meatballs - Rudy, the unpopular kid who wins the 4-mile race against the rich kids at Camp Mohawk. That was my favourite movie in 1979. And, it inspired me to continue to run even though my knee was bloody, my crotch was sore, I lost my bib and I was the only competitor without a team. When I got to the finish line, my husband and my dog were there to congratulate me.

We had burgers and roasted potatoes at The Branch in Kemptville. Such a good choice. I can't walk today, but I can't wait to beat my time of one hour and 21 minutes next year!