It’s been a few weeks since I’ve become a Tough Mudder.  I think it’s now due time to look back on it and give you guys a recap, particularly those of you who are interested in joining my team for next year’s (mark your calendar—it’s October 6, 2012).

First, let’s talk about training for this SOB. While I had injured my ankle pretty badly only two and a half months before (and it’s still healing), I felt pretty prepared . . . that is, until we arrived and I saw the massive ski slopes we were going to be walking up and down . . . and up and down . . . and up, up, UP and down and finally . . . back up again!  The best thing that prepared me for this? All the extensive backpacking J and I did while he was prepping for his mountaineering trip in Washington. Lifesaver right there, I tell ya.

But first, I want to backtrack to the night before Tough Mudder.  We left the DC area to head down to the Wintergreen Resort around 345 PM. After copious amounts of traffic getting from DC over to the west side to I-81, I was already beat and anxious to just get the hell there. We stopped for dinner at a Mexican joint in Harrisonburg. It was okay, but probably not the best choice the night before a race such as the one we were about to compete in. Then we arrived at our campground . . . or so I thought. We turned onto a gravel road, which at this point we were just following directions given by the national park we were staying because we were so far out in the middle of nowhere that we didn’t have GPS (well, we had GPS, but the maps couldn’t get downloaded).  So we drove for about . . . oh, 7 miles or so? At this point in time I was getting very anxious . . . we were nowhere near where we needed to be. Finally, cell service came back and my fears were acknowledged.  We needed to turn around and trek the 7 miles back and hit the road again. Thankfully, once we arrived at the end of that turn-around (which, by the way, in case you were wondering, we could only go about 20 mph on, so it took us a good half hour to go those 7 miles each way), we were only about two miles from our true destination.

We got to our site, relieved that no one had taken it so no fights were necessary to defend what was rightfully ours. We made camp and my sleep-deprived night began. First, we had extremely noisy neighbors. Apparently people have zero comprehension that when they are out in the wilderness with wide-open spaces their voices travel. And being right next to these obnoxious loud-mouths didn’t help one bit. I should also mention at this point in time I was not that cold, so falling asleep during this period would have been best for me.

They eventually shut up, but by now it had dropped below 40º and I was freezing. I had my entire body snuggled deep inside my mummy bag with nothing but the tip of my nose, but I was still shivering. Commence sleepless night.

By the time 4 AM rolled around I was begging and pleading with the sun god to make it rise faster and for Father Time to push my clock forward. Finally, after a long, cold night, my alarm sounded for our 540 AM wake-up call. We packed up, loaded up and trekked our way out.

Tough Mudder tale to be continued . . .

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