So I *ran* in a Mud Run yesterday. And my use of the word *ran* is relative. Most of the time, we just moved our arms real fast and walked with our feet, yelling back at the Marines who yelled at us, "Look! My arms are moving so fast! I'm so fast at running! Look at me go!" And then they would yell again "You MALL WALKERS! Move your feet! Get out of my mud! What are you doing still in my mud!?" And then we laughed and moved as slow as we pleased.
As in, before we were forever changed by the mud.
Before we knew what it was to be truly filthy.
Before we went to where there is no coming back from.
|Obviously, this is the after photo.|
My contact was rolled up in my brain at this point.
Our socks will never be pink & white ever again.
Each of us is bleeding at the knees here.
Apparently, I have a problem with being told what to do. The weird part is, I'm a great listener. Just ask my Moms. She said I was (and I quote) "a joy to raise" (endquote). Tell me what to do, and I do it. Its even been at the point where I'm trying to stay on a healthy eating kick, and I ask Handsome "Tell me not to eat these chips" and then he says "Don't eat those chips" and then I don't. Because I'm a good listener.
Other times, as soon as I'm told what to do, I balk and rebel. I never realized this until I was talking to my SIL. I told her that sometimes, when people order purses, I don't want to make them. So I thought I didn't want to be a sew-er. And that I was having a hard time with Cake Week, because I wanted to bake what I wanted and not what other people wanted me to bake. I thought this meant that I didn't want to be a baker. She countered that it meant I had a problem with authority.
So when the Marines told me to run, I laughed at them. And when my Moms told me to put the cereal away when I was done with it, I moved out. When Manda tells me that I'm running a 5K so I should start training, I ignore her. But when Hubs tells me to not eat icecream because it's not in my best interest, I don't. And I LOVE icecream!
I'm really quite puzzled by what I will and will not listen to. Its not that I just listen to Handsome, either. Because he thinks I should wear this "shirt", and sometimes he tries to get me to shock myself on electric fences. I don't do either of those things. But when our friend Dougie told me to drink salsa with a straw, I did.
Its weird, this personality that I have. Strange to be in conflict with oneself.
Its also strange to be completely covered in mud.
Living in the Land of Strange,