Saturday started as any old regular day. We got up and dressed for a run. But that's where the regular day ended. Because this past Saturday was Tough Mudder day. The day when we were to prove ourselves against the grand-daddy of obstacle course runs. So, dressed for a day of sun and mud, we chucked a change of clothes in the car and off we went to Drumheller. Well, off we went to my friend's house, where her guy graciously drove us to Drumheller in his Jeep.
Let's start with the first question you probably all have-what on this odd and exciting planet is "Tough Mudder"? It's hard to describe, actually. Normally I would say it's a race, but it's not. Maybe you could call it an obstacle course, but that still wouldn't be quite right. Perhaps "physical challenge" would be closer. It's a run, if you want to run, but you can also walk it if you like. And there are obstacles, but you can choose not to do them-without penalty-if you don't want to.
Okay, so I've done what you could call "obstacle races" before. Specifically, the Warrior Dash and a Spartan Race. The Tough Mudder is similar, but also completely different. It's not a race. Seriously, it's not. You can try and do the course as fast as you can, but there's quite honestly no point, because they don't time you. THEY DON'T TIME YOU. There is no finisher's list to check on the internet the next day. I cannot emphasize that enough. There are no winners at Tough Mudder. The winners are the people that attempt it in the first place. And if you finish, great! But the point isn't to do it fast, it's just to do it at all. As you enter "Mudder Village" before you start the race, they give you a bib with a number on it. The purpose of this number? I have no idea. They don't look at your number as you cross the finish line. They don't check your number before you start. Your number is in no way actually associated with your name. In fact, when you check in, they just take the top number off a pile and hand it to you. Almost everyone actually loses their bib somewhere during the race. And given the obstacles, it's surprising any of the bibs make it across the finish line.
So I'll tell you how the race went first, because the obstacles themselves are the interesting part-and we'll save that for last.
It went pretty well. Like I said, you are allowed to skip obstacles if you don't want to or can't do them. And unlike the Spartan Race that forces you to do burpees if you can't complete one, there's no penalty if you do skip one. The emphasis of the Tough Mudder is to promote teamwork-your team helps you through it. Actually, a lot of the obstacles are designed specifically so that you can't do them without help. And while you're out there, random strangers will help you, and you will help random strangers. It's like an unwritten code-we're all out there to get through it, so why not help each other out?
Given that, all three members of Team Truffle Shuffle made it to the finish line, and at least one member of Team Truffle Shuffle completed each and every obstacle. I did all but 2 of them, and my husband did all of them. Our third team member sat a few out due to an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction early in the run that left a rather large hole in a-shall we say-revealing part of her pants. So she chose to skip a few of them in the name of public decency. Thankfully, though, she happened to be wearing her gorgeous, top of the line Team Truffle Shuffle tank top over another tank top, so we pulled that off, ripped out the arm holes and used the safety pins from our now missing bibs to turn it into a makeshift skirt. Worked remarkably well, actually.
It took us somewhere around 3 hours to finish the course. We could have gone faster, and we could have pushed ourselves a little harder. But given that no one was timing us and we had all day, why bother rushing? Sometimes you just need to splash down in the mud and not worry about getting out right away. The Arctic Enema's a different story, but more about that later. At the end we were all tired and ready for our free beer, but no one was exhausted or in need of medical attention. Cuts and scrapes, yes. Ambulance ride and stitches, no. I was the only one to retain my numbered bib at the finish line, and also to cross the finish line with my pants fully intact. I think I'll take credit for that rather than chalking it up to luck-it was all skill, my friends.
We walked away on Saturday with mud in places there should never be mud. I'll explain how we got so muddy later, but sufficed to say that I have genuinely never been that dirty in my entire life. They call it the Tough "Mudder" for a reason, and that reason is that they do not skimp on the mud. Mud pits, mud crawls, floating through the mud, you name it. If you ever feel the need to literally be covered head to toe in mud and don't feel like paying for it at a spa, sign up for a Tough Mudder. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. At one point, my hair was attempting to escape the ponytail elastic I had in it, so rather than wrestle with it, I used my mud-caked hands to stick it back in place. Incidentally, mud seems to be a better hair product than traditional hairspray, if you were wondering.
It was 27 C in Drumheller on Saturday, and the mud pits were just far enough apart that in between them the mud had time to dry. And it was so thick that when it dried we all looked like we had scales. I'm still trying to get the moisture back in my skin and it's been 3 days. And because the mud had managed to dry, the few opportunities we did get to dunk ourselves in something other than mud didn't really do much to wash the mud off. I will say this, though-the mud kept us remarkably cool during the day. At the end of the course there were some makeshift showers that let us knock enough of the mud off that we didn't dirty the inside of the Jeep on the way home too much. Well, showers isn't really the right word, given that it was really just a bunch of garden hose spray nozzles attached to some trusses that we had 3 minutes to use. And they were strict about the 3 minutes, too. Everybody went in as a big group and they turned the water on for 3 minutes. After that the water shut off completely and you had to get out. And when the mud is caked and dried on, 3 minutes isn't really enough time to get everything off. It's just enough to get off the worst so you can head over to the beer garden to enjoy a well-earned, frosty malted beverage.
So on to the actual course itself. The event started and ended at the Drumheller stampede grounds, and you can bet they took advantage of that as much as reason would allow. The grounds are actually at the top of the valley, overlooking the town and perched atop some gnarly cliffs. And they used those cliffs. You really had to give them credit, actually, for using the natural landscape as an obstacle itself. The cliffs from top to bottom are probably 150-200 metres high, and we went up and down them no less than 3 times (they called these "cliffhangers"). More if you take into account all the little hills we went over, around and down. The course wound through 16.5 km of the badlands, and the obstacles were spread out so as to give you an obstacle every 2 km or so. It broke up the run enough that it didn't seem that long, at least to us. Though you have to take that with a grain of sand, as I've run a dozen marathons myself.
The running itself was through grassland, over dirt motocross track, and dirt trails. It wound around a lot, and went up and down so many little hills that I didn't even bother to count. In fact, if you had taken the obstacles out all together, it would've been a pretty fun and gnarly run by itself. I think one of the things most people were finding challenging was the distance itself. While I myself don't find 16.5 km to really be all that far, to a lot of people who don't run as much as me, that's actually quite a challenge.
But then chuck some obstacles into the mix and you've really got yourselves an adventure. And the obstacles are something to behold, let me tell you. Let's see if I can recall them in order for you...
Oh, so you might think, you get to the starting line and away you go, until you hit the first roadblock. But you would be wrong, my friends! WRONG! The obstacles start even before you actually get to the starting line! Yes, it's true, you have to crawl through a culvert and over a 10 foot wall before you even start the run! We were aghast when we saw this. Wouldn't 16.5 km of pain be enough? Apparently not. No, they've gotta squeeze those few last ones in there, just for kicks.
Kiss of Mud. When we went through this one, we thought, "well, this is pretty muddy, can't really get much worse than this, can it?" We were wrong. Ever so wrong. This obstacle is basically barbed wire strung over a pit of mud, and you have to military crawl underneath it, through the mud, to get to the other side. Wouldn't be too bad, but they strung the wire quite low-so low that even our 5'4" friend had to belly-crawl through it. I got my hair caught a couple times. This is also where we had our first bib number casualty, as my husband emerged from his kiss without his. Reason to attach it to your back instead of your front, I guess. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/kiss-of-mud)
Bale bonds. When we arrived a this obstacle, it was no more than a big pile of hay, which to anyone who grew up in Alberta doesn't really seem like an obstacle at all. But after looking at the photos on facebook, I think this one started as big round hay bales that just ended up as a big pile after about 10 waves of people had already gone over them. So score one for starting a bit late in the day, I guess.
Balls to the Wall. It's a 3.5 m wall that you have to scale using only a rope. Sounds simple until you're standing at the bottom and realize how tall 3.5 m actually is. Or until you're perched precariously at the top of the wall, trying to figure out how the hell you're going to get down the other side, still only using a rope. Or until you're about half way up and realize that there's no safety rope, and that if you fall the only thing stopping you is the ground and about a foot of loose straw strewn about at the base of the wall. Yeah, that's when it gets interesting. We all managed, though, and the only casualty was one pair of pants. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/balls-to-the-wall)
Arctic Enema. Hands down, best name for an obstacle. Ever. Also, surprisingly accurate. This is a half-height shipping container filled with ice water. No, not just cold water, ice water. As in, there is ice in the water. Real, frozen ice. And not just a tiny wee bit at the top, but actually a good full layer of ice floating along the top. They add ice as the day goes on, you see. In fact, there are 2 volunteers whose job it is to continually dump bags of ice into the Arctic Enema as the day progresses. Your task? Hop into said shipping container full of ice water, fully submerse yourself halfway through to get underneath a plank set happily in the middle, and get to the other side while still able to breathe. Doesn't sound so bad, until you realize that the container is just big enough that by the time you reach the other side your legs have stopped working and it becomes incredibly difficult to climb your way out of said container. And you think a slurpee-induced brain freeze is harsh. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/arctic-enema)
Berlin Walls. In essence, a wall that's 3 m high that you have to somehow get over. No handholds, no footholds, just that-a wall. How is that a challenge, you ask? Consider that I, myself, barely come to half the height of said wall. This was the one obstacle that I didn't do. My team was willing to help me, to be fair, but it's one thing to get over the wall. It's entirely another to get down the other side. And jumping from a height that's almost twice as tall as me didn't really seem like the safest idea in the world. We did, however, get my husband over the wall. As it turns out, other people's shoulders make for excellent steps. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/berlin-walls)
Warrior Carry. You have to pick someone up and carry them for 50 m, then swap off and they carry you. Not hard, but one of the little ones they tossed in there to help sap your strength a little more.
Wheelbarrow. You remember doing this as a kid, right? A lot harder when you're a grown-up, I'll tell you. In fact, I actually can't do this anymore. But I can hold my husband's legs while he does it.
Everest. This is basically one side of a half-pipe that you have to run up, grab the edge and haul yourself over. Sounds easy until they decide to put some lovely slippery plastic on the face of it and make the damn thing over 3 metres high. Then it gets interesting. The general idea seemed to be to get at least one member of your team up, then that person hangs their hands over the edge to catch the rest of the team. I managed to get hold of my team's hands, but after that I had to hang there like a muddy piece of meat while they hauled me up, because I couldn't grip anything with my feet. It wasn't pretty, but it somehow worked. I guess it helps when the rest of your team has at least a little upper body strength. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/everest
Mile of Mud. The mud. Oh, God, the mud. It got dirty, friends. Really, really dirty. The mile of mud consists of, if I remember right, 5 pits of mud separated by large mounds of dirt in between. You have to wade through the mud (about waist deep in our case) and climb over the mound of dirt-over and over until you reach the end. Simple, yes? NO! The mounds of dirt are mud themselves. Ever try standing on a muddy hill? Same idea-your feet slip out from under you. So attempting to climb a mound of solid mud is virtually impossible. Compound into that the fact the the pits are 8 FEET DEEP and you've got a challenge. How do you get through it? Same way as Everest, actually-get one person atop the mound and have them haul you up. Also simple, right? NO! The mounds are slippery, so as soon as you grab the hand of the person above you, they slip. So if you're hauling them up, you have to make sure your feet are planted or you're heading face first back into the mud pit. And that's if you can get a grip on their hand, given that, like everything else, it too is covered in a thick layer of mud. The only easy part of the mile of mud was getting down from one mound back into the next mud pit-you slide and plop down. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/mud-mile)
Floating in the Mud. This one was fun. It was another mud pit, but this time they chucked a ton of salt in with the mud, so you could float. Yes, the object of this one was to float from one edge of the mud pit to the other. It worked enormously well. And also made you that much more dirty.
Glory Blades. These are basically slanted Berlin Walls. While I didn't go over the actual Berlin Walls, I managed to get over these because the slant made them a little bit shorter. And because we had to go up and over from the side they were slanted to, you could slide down the other side rather than having to drop from a vertical wall. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/glory-blades
Walk the Plank. This was exactly what it sounds like. They built a platform 12 feet high, with a plank hanging out over the edge. Then they dug a pit under it and filled it with water. Your only challenge was to jump off the plank. An easy challenge 'til you get there, see the muddy water and how small the pit is, and wonder how deep they could have possibly dug it. 12 Feet, when you're standing above it with those uncertainties floating around your head, actually seems really high. I asked the guy (there was a guy at the top telling people when it was safe to jump) and he assured me it was plenty deep-so away I went. I'm not generally afraid of heights, so this was a bit if a no-brainer for me, but there was one girl up there who was really struggling. She would head out to the edge, chicken out, and let someone else go next. It's like a band-aid, though-just plug your nose and go. Also, the water in the pit washed a bit of the mud from the Mud Mile off, so that was a happy bonus. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/walk-the-plank)
Killa Gorilla. They called this an obstacle, but it was really just a series of two short, steep hills you had to go up and down.
Electroshock Therapy. This one made me nervous. Electric wires hanging from a trellis that you had to walk through, 10 000 volts in the wires. No, thank you, that doesn't sound like fun. But they put it right before the finish line, so you kinda have to, right? You can't end it by skipping the last obstacle. So I went. And you know what? Not that bad. Yes, I could feel the jolts, but it wasn't really any worse than, say, a tattoo needle feeling. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/electroshock-therapy)
Let's start with the first question you probably all have-what on this odd and exciting planet is "Tough Mudder"? It's hard to describe, actually. Normally I would say it's a race, but it's not. Maybe you could call it an obstacle course, but that still wouldn't be quite right. Perhaps "physical challenge" would be closer. It's a run, if you want to run, but you can also walk it if you like. And there are obstacles, but you can choose not to do them-without penalty-if you don't want to.
Okay, so I've done what you could call "obstacle races" before. Specifically, the Warrior Dash and a Spartan Race. The Tough Mudder is similar, but also completely different. It's not a race. Seriously, it's not. You can try and do the course as fast as you can, but there's quite honestly no point, because they don't time you. THEY DON'T TIME YOU. There is no finisher's list to check on the internet the next day. I cannot emphasize that enough. There are no winners at Tough Mudder. The winners are the people that attempt it in the first place. And if you finish, great! But the point isn't to do it fast, it's just to do it at all. As you enter "Mudder Village" before you start the race, they give you a bib with a number on it. The purpose of this number? I have no idea. They don't look at your number as you cross the finish line. They don't check your number before you start. Your number is in no way actually associated with your name. In fact, when you check in, they just take the top number off a pile and hand it to you. Almost everyone actually loses their bib somewhere during the race. And given the obstacles, it's surprising any of the bibs make it across the finish line.
So I'll tell you how the race went first, because the obstacles themselves are the interesting part-and we'll save that for last.
It went pretty well. Like I said, you are allowed to skip obstacles if you don't want to or can't do them. And unlike the Spartan Race that forces you to do burpees if you can't complete one, there's no penalty if you do skip one. The emphasis of the Tough Mudder is to promote teamwork-your team helps you through it. Actually, a lot of the obstacles are designed specifically so that you can't do them without help. And while you're out there, random strangers will help you, and you will help random strangers. It's like an unwritten code-we're all out there to get through it, so why not help each other out?
Given that, all three members of Team Truffle Shuffle made it to the finish line, and at least one member of Team Truffle Shuffle completed each and every obstacle. I did all but 2 of them, and my husband did all of them. Our third team member sat a few out due to an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction early in the run that left a rather large hole in a-shall we say-revealing part of her pants. So she chose to skip a few of them in the name of public decency. Thankfully, though, she happened to be wearing her gorgeous, top of the line Team Truffle Shuffle tank top over another tank top, so we pulled that off, ripped out the arm holes and used the safety pins from our now missing bibs to turn it into a makeshift skirt. Worked remarkably well, actually.
It took us somewhere around 3 hours to finish the course. We could have gone faster, and we could have pushed ourselves a little harder. But given that no one was timing us and we had all day, why bother rushing? Sometimes you just need to splash down in the mud and not worry about getting out right away. The Arctic Enema's a different story, but more about that later. At the end we were all tired and ready for our free beer, but no one was exhausted or in need of medical attention. Cuts and scrapes, yes. Ambulance ride and stitches, no. I was the only one to retain my numbered bib at the finish line, and also to cross the finish line with my pants fully intact. I think I'll take credit for that rather than chalking it up to luck-it was all skill, my friends.
We walked away on Saturday with mud in places there should never be mud. I'll explain how we got so muddy later, but sufficed to say that I have genuinely never been that dirty in my entire life. They call it the Tough "Mudder" for a reason, and that reason is that they do not skimp on the mud. Mud pits, mud crawls, floating through the mud, you name it. If you ever feel the need to literally be covered head to toe in mud and don't feel like paying for it at a spa, sign up for a Tough Mudder. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. At one point, my hair was attempting to escape the ponytail elastic I had in it, so rather than wrestle with it, I used my mud-caked hands to stick it back in place. Incidentally, mud seems to be a better hair product than traditional hairspray, if you were wondering.
It was 27 C in Drumheller on Saturday, and the mud pits were just far enough apart that in between them the mud had time to dry. And it was so thick that when it dried we all looked like we had scales. I'm still trying to get the moisture back in my skin and it's been 3 days. And because the mud had managed to dry, the few opportunities we did get to dunk ourselves in something other than mud didn't really do much to wash the mud off. I will say this, though-the mud kept us remarkably cool during the day. At the end of the course there were some makeshift showers that let us knock enough of the mud off that we didn't dirty the inside of the Jeep on the way home too much. Well, showers isn't really the right word, given that it was really just a bunch of garden hose spray nozzles attached to some trusses that we had 3 minutes to use. And they were strict about the 3 minutes, too. Everybody went in as a big group and they turned the water on for 3 minutes. After that the water shut off completely and you had to get out. And when the mud is caked and dried on, 3 minutes isn't really enough time to get everything off. It's just enough to get off the worst so you can head over to the beer garden to enjoy a well-earned, frosty malted beverage.
So on to the actual course itself. The event started and ended at the Drumheller stampede grounds, and you can bet they took advantage of that as much as reason would allow. The grounds are actually at the top of the valley, overlooking the town and perched atop some gnarly cliffs. And they used those cliffs. You really had to give them credit, actually, for using the natural landscape as an obstacle itself. The cliffs from top to bottom are probably 150-200 metres high, and we went up and down them no less than 3 times (they called these "cliffhangers"). More if you take into account all the little hills we went over, around and down. The course wound through 16.5 km of the badlands, and the obstacles were spread out so as to give you an obstacle every 2 km or so. It broke up the run enough that it didn't seem that long, at least to us. Though you have to take that with a grain of sand, as I've run a dozen marathons myself.
The running itself was through grassland, over dirt motocross track, and dirt trails. It wound around a lot, and went up and down so many little hills that I didn't even bother to count. In fact, if you had taken the obstacles out all together, it would've been a pretty fun and gnarly run by itself. I think one of the things most people were finding challenging was the distance itself. While I myself don't find 16.5 km to really be all that far, to a lot of people who don't run as much as me, that's actually quite a challenge.
But then chuck some obstacles into the mix and you've really got yourselves an adventure. And the obstacles are something to behold, let me tell you. Let's see if I can recall them in order for you...
Oh, so you might think, you get to the starting line and away you go, until you hit the first roadblock. But you would be wrong, my friends! WRONG! The obstacles start even before you actually get to the starting line! Yes, it's true, you have to crawl through a culvert and over a 10 foot wall before you even start the run! We were aghast when we saw this. Wouldn't 16.5 km of pain be enough? Apparently not. No, they've gotta squeeze those few last ones in there, just for kicks.
Kiss of Mud. When we went through this one, we thought, "well, this is pretty muddy, can't really get much worse than this, can it?" We were wrong. Ever so wrong. This obstacle is basically barbed wire strung over a pit of mud, and you have to military crawl underneath it, through the mud, to get to the other side. Wouldn't be too bad, but they strung the wire quite low-so low that even our 5'4" friend had to belly-crawl through it. I got my hair caught a couple times. This is also where we had our first bib number casualty, as my husband emerged from his kiss without his. Reason to attach it to your back instead of your front, I guess. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/kiss-of-mud)
Bale bonds. When we arrived a this obstacle, it was no more than a big pile of hay, which to anyone who grew up in Alberta doesn't really seem like an obstacle at all. But after looking at the photos on facebook, I think this one started as big round hay bales that just ended up as a big pile after about 10 waves of people had already gone over them. So score one for starting a bit late in the day, I guess.
Balls to the Wall. It's a 3.5 m wall that you have to scale using only a rope. Sounds simple until you're standing at the bottom and realize how tall 3.5 m actually is. Or until you're perched precariously at the top of the wall, trying to figure out how the hell you're going to get down the other side, still only using a rope. Or until you're about half way up and realize that there's no safety rope, and that if you fall the only thing stopping you is the ground and about a foot of loose straw strewn about at the base of the wall. Yeah, that's when it gets interesting. We all managed, though, and the only casualty was one pair of pants. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/balls-to-the-wall)
Arctic Enema. Hands down, best name for an obstacle. Ever. Also, surprisingly accurate. This is a half-height shipping container filled with ice water. No, not just cold water, ice water. As in, there is ice in the water. Real, frozen ice. And not just a tiny wee bit at the top, but actually a good full layer of ice floating along the top. They add ice as the day goes on, you see. In fact, there are 2 volunteers whose job it is to continually dump bags of ice into the Arctic Enema as the day progresses. Your task? Hop into said shipping container full of ice water, fully submerse yourself halfway through to get underneath a plank set happily in the middle, and get to the other side while still able to breathe. Doesn't sound so bad, until you realize that the container is just big enough that by the time you reach the other side your legs have stopped working and it becomes incredibly difficult to climb your way out of said container. And you think a slurpee-induced brain freeze is harsh. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/arctic-enema)
Berlin Walls. In essence, a wall that's 3 m high that you have to somehow get over. No handholds, no footholds, just that-a wall. How is that a challenge, you ask? Consider that I, myself, barely come to half the height of said wall. This was the one obstacle that I didn't do. My team was willing to help me, to be fair, but it's one thing to get over the wall. It's entirely another to get down the other side. And jumping from a height that's almost twice as tall as me didn't really seem like the safest idea in the world. We did, however, get my husband over the wall. As it turns out, other people's shoulders make for excellent steps. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/berlin-walls)
Warrior Carry. You have to pick someone up and carry them for 50 m, then swap off and they carry you. Not hard, but one of the little ones they tossed in there to help sap your strength a little more.
Wheelbarrow. You remember doing this as a kid, right? A lot harder when you're a grown-up, I'll tell you. In fact, I actually can't do this anymore. But I can hold my husband's legs while he does it.
Everest. This is basically one side of a half-pipe that you have to run up, grab the edge and haul yourself over. Sounds easy until they decide to put some lovely slippery plastic on the face of it and make the damn thing over 3 metres high. Then it gets interesting. The general idea seemed to be to get at least one member of your team up, then that person hangs their hands over the edge to catch the rest of the team. I managed to get hold of my team's hands, but after that I had to hang there like a muddy piece of meat while they hauled me up, because I couldn't grip anything with my feet. It wasn't pretty, but it somehow worked. I guess it helps when the rest of your team has at least a little upper body strength. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/everest
Mile of Mud. The mud. Oh, God, the mud. It got dirty, friends. Really, really dirty. The mile of mud consists of, if I remember right, 5 pits of mud separated by large mounds of dirt in between. You have to wade through the mud (about waist deep in our case) and climb over the mound of dirt-over and over until you reach the end. Simple, yes? NO! The mounds of dirt are mud themselves. Ever try standing on a muddy hill? Same idea-your feet slip out from under you. So attempting to climb a mound of solid mud is virtually impossible. Compound into that the fact the the pits are 8 FEET DEEP and you've got a challenge. How do you get through it? Same way as Everest, actually-get one person atop the mound and have them haul you up. Also simple, right? NO! The mounds are slippery, so as soon as you grab the hand of the person above you, they slip. So if you're hauling them up, you have to make sure your feet are planted or you're heading face first back into the mud pit. And that's if you can get a grip on their hand, given that, like everything else, it too is covered in a thick layer of mud. The only easy part of the mile of mud was getting down from one mound back into the next mud pit-you slide and plop down. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/mud-mile)
Floating in the Mud. This one was fun. It was another mud pit, but this time they chucked a ton of salt in with the mud, so you could float. Yes, the object of this one was to float from one edge of the mud pit to the other. It worked enormously well. And also made you that much more dirty.
Glory Blades. These are basically slanted Berlin Walls. While I didn't go over the actual Berlin Walls, I managed to get over these because the slant made them a little bit shorter. And because we had to go up and over from the side they were slanted to, you could slide down the other side rather than having to drop from a vertical wall. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/glory-blades
Walk the Plank. This was exactly what it sounds like. They built a platform 12 feet high, with a plank hanging out over the edge. Then they dug a pit under it and filled it with water. Your only challenge was to jump off the plank. An easy challenge 'til you get there, see the muddy water and how small the pit is, and wonder how deep they could have possibly dug it. 12 Feet, when you're standing above it with those uncertainties floating around your head, actually seems really high. I asked the guy (there was a guy at the top telling people when it was safe to jump) and he assured me it was plenty deep-so away I went. I'm not generally afraid of heights, so this was a bit if a no-brainer for me, but there was one girl up there who was really struggling. She would head out to the edge, chicken out, and let someone else go next. It's like a band-aid, though-just plug your nose and go. Also, the water in the pit washed a bit of the mud from the Mud Mile off, so that was a happy bonus. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/walk-the-plank)
Killa Gorilla. They called this an obstacle, but it was really just a series of two short, steep hills you had to go up and down.
Electroshock Therapy. This one made me nervous. Electric wires hanging from a trellis that you had to walk through, 10 000 volts in the wires. No, thank you, that doesn't sound like fun. But they put it right before the finish line, so you kinda have to, right? You can't end it by skipping the last obstacle. So I went. And you know what? Not that bad. Yes, I could feel the jolts, but it wasn't really any worse than, say, a tattoo needle feeling. (https://toughmudder.com/obstacles/electroshock-therapy)
So there you have it-my Tough Mudder experience. Would I do it again? As they say, HELL YES! Despite the bruises that came up the next day, and the aches and pains I'm still suffering from several days later, I would totally do another one. I mean, where else can you get a good mud treatment for less than what you'd pay at the spa? And if anyone's interested in joining us next year, let me know. There will always be a place on Team Truffle Shuffle for anyone who cares to join us.
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