The excitement built, the fear climbed, the friends were roped in. Finally the day arrived, a fantastic Saturday morning. The sun was in the sky, the bacon on the griddle, the driweave fabric stretched over my dimpled behind, and the excuses circling in my head. All alone in the kitchen, conversing with the dog, asking advice how I could convince the near dozen people I excited about this day that I had come down with a rare, highly contagious disease that would prevent me from wallowing in the mud with thousands of other people. My magnificent mutt only offered a sigh of discontent.
Before I realized it, we were on our way. Meet a few here, meet a few there, sign a waiver, grab a t-shirt, and pose for a few clean before pictures. “Everybody hold up a 4-0 for Jen,” someone shouted. A menagerie of people all united for an afternoon, a challenge, a celebration, an 8k with 20 obstacles through the mud. We were all thinking, what were we thinking, but over the hill we went.
The finish line, the starting line, the 50 foot slide all began to appear. We needed more photographic documentation, A PYRAMID! We quickly knelt and climbed and spotted and smiled and created a people pyramid to be proud of. Really, who else did that? We were amazing, we were different, we were the misfit mudders. We got the safety shpeal, saw a few surprises and sprinted off for the first up hill battle. Around the flag and down the hill we ran, dancing through tires and diving into the mud, army crawling under barbed wire. Up again and off running through the woods.
It seemed like miles, but was more like feet when the burning from the barbed wire scratches on my neck became nothing compared to the burning in my thighs. The pack thinned out as the teenage boys sprinted into the distance and the middle aged women fell to the back of the pack. Up the hill we went, over the crest and another incline appeared. Each twist and turn seemed to get steeper and I felt as though I might vomit and my lungs seemed to shrivel up in revolt. Just as I thought I’d quit I heard, “Come on, you can do it” and I felt as though I had a chance. Just as I could not make another step, a teammate in front of me needed a gentle hand and I could reach out a little further. As one fell back, another encouraged, as one caught a cramp, another caught their breath. We balanced each other; not one was ever the last, not one took the lead. Eventually, we reached the top of that mountain.
We found the energy to jump and cheer and actually run down the hill and through a mass of swinging tires. We encountered other obstacles but challenged each other to run a little further and jog a little less between them. We balanced over beams, struggled over hurdles, swam through a mote, climbed up through mud, and coached each other up and over the walls. The team moaned and screamed and laughed and smiled and before we knew it, we were sprinting and leaping over fire to the final obstacle. One by one we slid 50 feet into a pit of mud and crossed the finish line. WE DID IT!
Clicking through our photos, all I can do is smile. Without each and every one of the people that shared this experience with me, I may not have made it. I may not have endured. I shared some of my most intimate, near failure moments with this group. Each one of them encouraged me and the other members of the team. Each one of them allowed the team to share their own moments with them. Thirteen people came together and shared an ultimate challenge.
It was a challenge that may have been out of reach for any of us individually. Together we conquered it. We conquered it without judgments, without criticisms. We conquered it with undeniable synergy, spirit and teamwork. Thank you, misfit mudders, you were amazing beyond my expectations. You have made a mark on my soul and I shall never forget what together we achieved.
The cashier couldn’t clear the belt fast enough for me to
pile on the purchases. I refilled the cart with the bagged groceries while
pulling the remaining produce from the childless seat. Whew, that’s it. Scan my
MVP card, swipe the debit and wait. The total came to $300.89. The discount
card savings started rolling… “You saved $44.61 using your MVP card!” The
coupon scanning, beep, boop, beep. Final total $239.23. Savings of $61.66-
SCORE!
As I drove to work a few days later, the sun blazed and I pulled down the visor revealing the forgotten tickets. Later that evening, scratching revealed another $9 in winnings. This luck continued and I have redeemed a winning ticket or two for a strip of new tickets at least once a week since the beginning of March. It continues as I still have a few winning tickets to redeem in my purse. It has been fun and has continued further than I could have imagined. The odds of winning a scratch off prize in 
There are few people that come into your life that exude wisdom. I have been fortunate to have several cross my path. They are the people you learn from by thought, action and word. They are certainly not perfect, generally humble and often seek knowledge and improvement on a daily basis in their own lives. One of the wisest women I know suggested a very simple, powerful item for my list; do nothing. Today I did nothing.
This morning met me with ups and downs, happiness and sadness, glee and anger; all before 11:00am and the roller coaster continued into the afternoon. Instead of eating the pizza and mozzarella sticks I cooked to cope with it all, I fed them to the dogs and decided to do nothing. I sat comfortably in the sun in our backyard, our blessing of a back yard. The sun warmed me and the cool breeze was just enough to keep me comfortable. I concentrated on the panting of my senior dog Dutch, stroking his head as he rested on my lap. The sound of the train rocking in the distance, and the birds chirping began to soothe me. Joy surrounded me and I smiled from the jingling of the tags on my spry Zaida’s collar galloping across the yard, the splashing of the ducks in the pond and the buzzing of a fantastically large bumblebee obviously intrigued by my rest. I soaked up the sun and pondered the life I have shared with Dutch. Dutch and I have been together for 12 years. He’s seen me at my best, my worst and my wackiest and he loves me all the same. The harsh reality is that there may soon be a day when Dutch is no longer here, just like that of all others in our lives. 
I organized them by size and the brainstorming began… a few hours later I have the frame almost complete! The roof on the right was added after the picture, when my second wind hit. The goose and ducks will live on the left, the chickens on the right. The roosting poles are already nailed in place. This is just a resting place for the evenings to protect them from predators; they free range and swim in the pond during the day.
A few blogs will be devoted to weight loss from here on in, hopefully stories of success… but I leave room for some challenges and maybe even failures too. With a little inspiration from Pinterest, I made a very practical and pretty reminder for my kitchen counter. Pictured are two glass jars, one represents “pounds to lose” and the other represents “pounds lost.” Each stone represents 0.1 pound, ten stones represents a pound. Saturday afternoon my husband helped me happily count out 22 stones for the empty “pounds lost” jar. Visual things are so important to me, the not so comfy clothes becoming comfortable are the best. With any luck, they will become too big and get handed over to another. Perhaps I will have a pair of way-too-big-now-big-girl-jeans to sew a great new Pinterest inspired purse!
