Park Trail Mud Run: Run Number 500!

It was my 500th run since May 1, 2005.

With a year at the War, a split tibia, a triple lower leg fracture and a few leg surgeries in between.

Although I haven’t run that many times yet this year, it was my fastest one and two mile time.

The second mile was on a slightly muddy uphill, so not bad.

After the disaster in Punxsutawney on the mountain up to Gobbler’s Knob, I am hitting the hills much harder.

On the way back, it wasn’t the hill as much as the trail was pure halfway-to-your-ankle mud, and at an incline towards the creek no less.

So my three mile time was OK, my 5k time OK, but the last 1/5th of a mile I was just fighting mud and it literally took me five minutes to cover one fifth of a mile.

Don’t believe me? Try extreme mud where you risk sliding down the hill into oblivion.

To make it worse, I heard a voice behind me.

“Hi Mr. Botendaddy. I see you’ve lost about ten pounds. Now you’re only disgustingly, obesely, sweatily, deliciously fat.”

I looked back. She was wearing supertight spandex, so tight that she was crossway breezing. It was excessive, almost obscene camel-wise toe-ification. I felt like I was doing a visual gynecological exam on a real live, spandex-wearing female camel.

“How did you find me?” I inquired.

“Oh, it was easy, I just followed the sensuous, erotic, filthy odor of your enormous, reeking adult Franken-diaper.”

I kept slogging through the mud, but I could barely move as she danced around me.

“Look at my boobs! Look at how firm they are, just…reach…out…”

There were rather tight and pointy. For a women of at least 40, they were no less than remarkable.

“What is in fact wrong with you? Didn’t your father love you enough when you were a child? Let me give you some advice.”

“Oh teach me wise Botendaddy!” She moaned.

Running into the abyss

Into the muddy abyss

“OK, kid, for a mud run:”

  1. Get breathable shoes with good treads, your feet will get wet anyway.
  2. On wet muddy trails, don’t run in the middle, that’s where the snow melts. Run in the leaves, gravel, anything with a grip.
  3. Angle your feet uphill, even if you are almost running almost sideways, so that you have a good center of gravity.
  4. Lean a bit forward. If you fall backwards, you will get the ‘horse-collar’ ankle fracture.
  5. If you fall, just roll with it. Protect your head and neck of course.
  6. If you have to run downhill in mud, keep a slow. but steady pace. If you stop short, you will slip and go flying like Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner (I still love her) in ‘Romancing the Stone’.
  7. Gloves are a good idea, in case you fall.
  8. Wash your shoes afterwards. Even pick out the little stones from the tread. Then sit them out somewhere warm and dry.

She just couldn’t contain herself.

“I love you, Botendaddy. I am passionately, madly, head over heels in love with you.”

I tried to ignore her. We reached the top of the park trail where there were crowds of nice families and runners. She leaped onto my back in front of everyone,  shrieking:

“I need you Botendaddy! Make love to me right here, right now!”

I tried to convince everyone that I didn’t know her, but they did not believe me. I carried her to my car, as she was now hysterical and weeping uncontrollably. She may have actually “relieved herself” while I was carrying her. Despite having had the nerve to mock my enormous, non-chafing, malodorous, adult running diaper.

‘Beware excessive use of adjectives. It is the province of shitty writers.’ — Baudelaire

Peace be the Botendaddy



About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
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