Sunday, January 29, 2012


Within the last two weeks, I've been involved in two separate events on opposite ends of the spectrum, both of which I've posted about. The first, a fashion show in which I was buffed, fluffed and puffed every way imaginable, the second a mud run where anything but buffing, fluffing & puffing was involved. I'm still in recovery from the mud run.

A lot happened at the mud run.  It took two days of posting to get through the story of the "must swim" obstacle.  After the run, us campers were "treated" to more than the the standard choices other non-camping runners faced:  an agriculture shower spray or a hosing down by firefighters. Instead, us campers got "real" showers.  Now, I'm using quotations marks here because what one typically defines as a shower is in my eyes was much different than what we faced down after the run.

I think the showers should have been declared another obstacle.

The showers had a wood slat floor which we quickly learned would swallow up our soap, shampoo and anything else anyone happened to accidentally drop.  The showers had wooden slat walls which were staggered, so if you went to the edge REALLY became community showers.  And, the showers had some type of utilitarian shower heads, I can best describe as a hose attachment.  Each shower had 4 of those nozzles, one on each wall, and a "door" which essentially was a gate fixed to the ground, permanently in the open position.

There is a reason I am known around these parts as a city girl.

After stepping into one of those shower stalls along with 3 other soon-to-be of my closest comrades, we were treated to the lowest water pressure ever experienced.  In fact, after close to 20-25 minutes of attempting to get mud off me WITH the assistance of friends (what are friends for, right?) I was still covered in mud.  The giant handfuls were gone, thankfully, but my skin seemed to have a permanent orange tinge to it.  There just wasn't enough pressure to get the mud off.  Doing the best we all could anyway, after stepping out of the shower dressed quite sparsely, I took a few steps aside to let the next crew into the community stall; directly into a large fire ant nest.  It hurt, but I didn't realize what was going on for a few seconds.  When I looked down at my feet, I was in a large puddle of mud, so I basically thought it was just mud itching me.  Upon closer inspection, I realized the mud was moving, and moving a lot.  They were swarming me, up and over my ankles.  Yeah, I began jumping up and down like an idiot, screaming and hollering.  Just what I wanted.... calling attention to myself after a shower, barely dressed, with really bad hair issues surrounded by hundred of others. Regardless, I tried to kick them off, it didn't work.  I tried to brush them off.  It didn't work.  My friend D who had just dealt with the same shower situation as I had scrambled off to a nearby low nozzle and called me over.  She turned it on, and I tried to wash off the ants. Slowly I made progress, but not before the damage was done.

I have too many ant bites to count.

Its been over one week since the mud run escapade... over one week since the fire ants.  The water trauma is mostly behind me, the ant trauma is not.  I have welts covering me where the ants attacked, and they itch like crazy.  I have awoken in the middle of the night for the last 4 nights in a row, plagued by terrible itching. Nothing helps.  I wonder, when will this end?

There are people in the world who devote their lives to creating weapons of destruction.  I don't think anyone needs to waste any more time on those issues.  Fire ants are natures answer to WMD.  I imagine if you get covered with enough ants, those things can do more damage than planned.

I've got another fashion show coming up.  I'm hopeful my bruises, sunburn, and fire ant bites will heal by then, but its not looking good on the ant situation.  Maybe I'll get to wear boots or something.  And, with that said, perhaps I'll wear boots on my next mud run too... or at least for my Apres' run "shower."

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