So why do it?

I am not an athlete. I wasn't that girl in school who played every sport. I was the one hiding at the back of the line hoping I didn't get chosen to play or didn't come up in the batting order because I knew I'd screw up somehow. I'm the girl who got a concussion when my dad was trying to teach me to play catch in the backyard. (I blame him, actually, for not recognizing my innate inability to do all things athletic. Also, for sending me to bed after donking me on the head with a ball).

I was okay at tennis...that didn't seem to be too hard to screw up. And I was loud, so I was a cheerleader. But not the kind they have these days that flip all over the place and fly up in the sky. I was loud and smiley and that was enough back then.

Anyway, I got into running later in life. I'm not good at it. I'm not fast. I look to be in pain. But I like it. When I'm done, I like it. It makes me feel like an athlete. Like I'm strong. Like I'm doing something most people don't or can't. Even if I'm slow as an old lady with a walker.

So during a tough time in my life in '09, I decided to run a half marathon. And I wrote about my training from day 1 to the day of. And even if no one read it, it helped me stay motivated. And taught me a lot about myself.

So this past year has been even tougher. Divorce, cancer, and the recent loss of a very special relationship, in addition to the other stresses that we all have--money, job security, parenting challenges. I didn't want to just run this time. I wanted to do more. Something that I would have to be stronger to get through, to survive. Something that would prove to me that I could handle anything.


So the Tough Mudder. Allegedly the toughest obstacle course on earth. Complete with fire and electro-shock and walls to scale, ropes to climb. Probably alligators to wrestle and serial killers to run from. You get the picture. It's pretty much hell. But I'm going to do it. Training starts Monday. Race day is October 6th. I'm going to keep track of my progress and my challenges for my own benefit and for the entertainment of those who will certainly get a laugh out of this un-athletic girl's attempt to make a point. I even bought a pull-up bar. I can't even do the monkey bars at the park with my kid. I'm in for it, for sure. But I'm in, and that's the important part.

So here goes...I hope I don't die.