Here we are just before the race, all clean and stuff (and practicing for the "carry your partner" obstacle).
I was so nervous the night before Mudderella that 10PM found me pacing around the house, packing and re-packing my tote bag, checking and double-checking whether I actually owned running sneakers (somewhat surprisingly, yes), and obsessively drinking water just in case I arrived at the location of the run only to discover a desert filled with race organizers who had been replaced by water-depriving gremlins.
I was actually less worried about the obstacles themselves - climbing over walls and mud-hills, crawling under nets, sliding into pools of water (mud) - than I was about the running...because for real: I am not a runner. I feel like I look ridiculous doing it; I'm virtually guaranteed to get a stitch in my side after .5 seconds; treadmills are my Angry Place; et cetera.