Mud Chicken

To say that I am totally thrilled and anxiously awaiting Mud Heros, I'd be lying like a sidewalk. What I would like is someone to pass me my lampshade so I can hide. I have my T-shirt (thanks Sihing Csillag), have my cool (and bright) racing spandex, and also have almost anxiety about the deal. I have visions about being left waaaay in the distance only to be discovered days later under an obstacle hiding from being trampled by the next upcoming wave or having someone discover that there is life under the funny-shaped lump of mud.

This is remnant twitchiness from school years where I was always last, never meant for track & field, and always not good enough for the whatever team race event was. The exception was fastball, where I did excel and could throw a mean fast curveball and activities requiring strength and/or determination. Those activities I shone in, but the mainstream (and most important) events that required speed and cardio were a different story.

I have a lot of admiration for people who go out and run a race for the heck of it. The Death Race team has my admiration and respect and a wishing that I could do that too. So this upcoming weekend is a "face the fear" weekend  for me. It's a challenge enough facing the fear healthy, but I have the added bonus of having an injured shoulder. I could bow out, but I'm not. I'm going in respecting my shoulder and doing the best I can. I am going in with a team so I'm hoping that a head count will be done after the race and a search party sent out once it gets dark. Stay tuned....
Sherri Donohue
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