Last week Pi found out about the Mud, Guts, and Glory race. She felt it was too late to train for the competition, so she invited me to volunteer with her. Being the kind of Mom I am, I said yes before I found out what volunteering involved.
That is how it came to be that at extremely early in the morning o’clock I found myself sitting alone in the woods next to a pile of tires with no pen, no paper, and only 20…19…18 percent left on my phone battery. Not one of my better planned mornings.
I’d been assigned to the Tire Carry obstacle. Really, Pi and I had both been assigned to the Tire Carry but they were short on volunteers and moved her to the Weaver. Did I mention that one of the reasons I agreed to volunteer was to spend time with her?
There I was, by myself. At an obstacle in the middle of Stage 5 of the race. I had about half an hour until the Elite competitors began and the first one wouldn’t get to my area for an hour and a half or so. Here’s what I was thinking.
My feet are cold. Really cold. How can nature be this cold in May?
I have to find a way to entertain myself. Commune with nature. Yep, there’s nature. Still surrounded by nature. Nature doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
What do people do in nature? Try to relax. People relax in nature, right? I’m not one of those people. People paint in nature. Think about whether you’d like to paint the trees. I’m sure someone would, but not me.
15%. Why doesn’t nature come with electrical outlets?
The race starts in 10 minutes. They won’t reach my station for more than an hour. That’s a lot of nature to contemplate.
I try harder. I look at the trees. The poison ivy climbing up the nearest one winks at me.
I listen to the wind in the trees. I picture a gentle breeze on a hot day. I compare that to the reality of a sub-arctic morning with a 90 mile an hour wind.
The poison ivy smirks. It doesn’t care about the cold.
Did you know that nature doesn’t come with coffee? Who invented a coffee-less nature? Coffee’s natural. There should be a Keurig around here somewhere.
Oh, great. My phone’s dead.
Then out of nowhere, colorful racers burst around the corner, running easily and enjoying the course.
Nope, that didn’t happen. Not even a little bit. I was hoping it would, but it didn’t.
I started pacing on my little platform to warm up. I felt like the polar bear at the Central Park Zoo.
Eventually, The First Runner came sliding silently down the hill.
Serious competitors are focused. Really, really focused. Really, really focused on competing. No small talk here. The First Runner grabbed up two tires, slung them over his shoulders and headed around the loop. At the end, he dumped the tires and off he ran. I cheered for him. He didn’t seem to need the encouragement.
Ten minutes later, runners 2 and 3 arrived. They didn’t seem to need the cheering either.
The poison ivy didn’t bother cheering. Apparently it had already computed the outcome.
Eventually Pi showed up and made the day much more entertaining. She has that effect.
Michelle Warnky of American Ninja Warrior fame was the second woman we saw. She is a rock star. (This is my crazy impressed face.)
As the day went on the course, um, deteriorated. By that I mean where there had been mud, there was MUD. Where there had been slippery, there was treacherous. Where there had been sprinters, there were walkers pulling themselves along by their mud-covered fingernails. (Still, they did more than I did, so I’m not dissing.) Where there had been silence and concentration, there was conversation and camaraderie. It was fun.
The poison ivy continued to show its superior attitude. The Keurig didn’t show up. Neither did the feeling in our toes.
Still, it was a pretty cool day.