<\/a><\/p>\n

“So, Mindy. \u00a0I plan on taking the kids on this obstacle course thing. \u00a0The Dirty Dash<\/a>\u00a02014. \u00a0Pretty much we jump around in mud, race across a field, climb stuff. \u00a0In mud. \u00a0K?”<\/p>\n

Forcing back my germaphobic tendencies and involuntary eye tick I calmly respond, “Uh, no.”<\/p>\n

And so it went, back and forth, until Hubs enthusiastically convinced me how life-changing this foray through organized mud pits would be for the kiddos.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

They would gain confidence. \u00a0(And bacteria exposure.)<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

They would practice perseverence. \u00a0(And breathing through one mud-packed nostril).<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

It would be a bonding experience for all. \u00a0(Plus the added bonus of their pants bonding to their mud encrusted buttocks.)<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

So, yeah. \u00a0Pretty much a win-win. \u00a0<Damn eye ticks.><\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

After packing my Dirty Dash<\/a> essentials survival bag (noted below) we hit the road for an adventure of a lifetime!<\/p>\n

\n
• Clean Towels<\/li>\n
• Clean Clothes<\/li>\n
• Water Bottles<\/li>\n
• New Shoes – you get to donate your old crusty muddy ones right there on sight!<\/li>\n
• Camera<\/li>\n
• Wet Wipes – I mentioned the mud encrusted buttocks, no?<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  Despite my skepticism, worry, nerves and general neurosis I was sold at the Start. \u00a0What a fun event! \u00a0Given the varying of start times, and ours being late afternoon we walked into what appeared to be a time warp from back in the sixties. \u00a0There were muddy people lounging in the sun everywhere<\/em>. \u00a0A Woodstock-esque moment. \u00a0I was beginning to expect\u00a0to see folks making love instead of war\u00a0<\/em>while mellowing out to some Dylan and weaving\u00a0flower chains to encircle their heads. \u00a0But, no. \u00a0All I saw was a bunch of people taking selfies and uploading pics to Instagram, so I knew we hadn’t gone anywhere.<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  After finding the official Start of the course and placing myself in an advantageous picture-taking position (duh,\u00a0Insta-FabulousAdventure!) they signaled the start and off they went!<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  I couldn’t help but notice the smiles on my little family’s faces. \u00a0I will admit, this helped almost immediately quell the rising fear that my kids would be contracting some crazy rare mud-borne illness and I’d be later explaining to the CDC, “You see…I tried to talk them out of it. \u00a0But he <\/em>wouldn’t hear of it.”<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  They. \u00a0loved. \u00a0every. \u00a0minute. \u00a0of. \u00a0this. \u00a0crazy. \u00a0run.<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  They climbed. \u00a0They jumped. \u00a0They slid. \u00a0They bounced. \u00a0They floated. \u00a0They did it all.<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  And Mama was at the finish line waiting with open arms and clean towels. \u00a0Except the arms weren’t open to dirty, muddy people. \u00a0Let’s be real. \u00a0It was more of a metaphorical gesture, you feel me?<\/p>\n

  <\/a><\/p>\n

  Given our experience I would rate the Dirty Dash an A+++ event. \u00a0There’s charitable contribution. \u00a0There’s camaraderie. \u00a0There’s happy people. \u00a0And there’s mud. \u00a0Find a run in your local area and participate. \u00a0You won’t regret it. \u00a0(Except when you’re trying to scrub away the mud lodged up in areas even your mother didn’t tell you about.) \u00a0But they tell me it’s worth it. \u00a0 And the million dollar smiles in the pics prove that I think.<\/p>\n

  Mindy<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  “So, Mindy. \u00a0I plan on taking the kids on this obstacle course thing. \u00a0The Dirty Dash\u00a02014. \u00a0Pretty much we jump around in mud, race across a field, climb stuff. \u00a0In mud. \u00a0K?” Forcing back my germaphobic tendencies and involuntary eye tick I calmly respond, “Uh, no.” And so it went, back and forth, until Hubs […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3413,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[22],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-3397","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-family-life","8":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3397","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3397"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3397\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4434,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3397\/revisions\/4434"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3413"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3397"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3397"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thesuburbanlife.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3397"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}