Mud. The very word brings back memories of obstacle races, causing a smile to spread across my face. I love obstacle races–a fact that many people find surprising and weird. What’s not to love about crawling through gritty, smelly mud, rolling through shock wires, or swimming through icy water? Okay, so maybe I am crazy, but I’m not the only one to blame. When I investigated the cause behind this fascination of mine, I discovered an underlying culprit–my brother.
I’ve always had a streak of tomboy in me, which was mostly cultivated by my older brother Grant. Once I was old enough to tag along, I delighted in following Grant and his friends as they played army in the woods surrounding our childhood home in Florida. I wore Grant’s outgrown camouflage shirts, carried a toy shotgun, and got sap stuck in my stringy white hair as I trudged through the woods to various bunkers. By the time I was six, I had already lost a baby tooth in a playful brother-sister wrestling match. (Grant is still apologetic about that incident.) Over the years, my tomboy streak gradually diminished, that is, until this past year when it came back in full force. Once again, it was my brother’s fault. After introducing me to Krav Maga self defense, he soon had me running 5K’s with him, and–yes, you guessed it–encouraged me to participate in my first obstacle race last June. I’ve been an enthusiast ever since.
From army games and wrestling matches to Krav Maga and obstacle races, Grant is the one to blame. However, I prefer the term thank. In fact, I think he deserves an applause..
To my dear adventurous brother: May your days be filled with mud! :)