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“Are you going to go that route?” I asked as we approached.
“No. I’ve worked too hard, swung from too many bars to crawl over now. I’ll save that for the walls.”
She took a few deep breaths and then jumped for the first bar. I remember the first time she’d realized that the bars at the school yard and even at the obstacle course close to our house were not the height we’d be navigating for the Mudder. When she failed to reach it, I stepped up, wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” she said, looking down.
“Teammates, remember?” I said. When she nodded and I was sure she had a grip, I stepped back. “Now you’re on your own, babe.”
She took a deep breath and reached for the next bar. When she squealed, her right hand slipping, I was ready to grab her, mud puddle or not, but she adjusted her grip and continued.
“You’ve got this,” Stephanie yelled and she did. Swinging her legs, Hannah stepped onto the bar at the end of the expanse that allowed her to release the bar above her and jump down. We all made it across and I gave my wife a hug.
The next obstacle had Hannah pulling up, planting her hands on her hips and turning to glare at me. “You rigged this!”
“I didn’t set the course, babe,” I said, but couldn’t hold back a grin.
Gary nodded. “No one really knows what they are going to include. Each Mudder is different. But, we can take a time penalty if you want to walk around.”
“Not on your life,” Hannah said before pinning me with her gaze. “But, if I go under, I’m pulling you down with me.”
I lifted my hands in the universal sign of surrender. “I won’t let you go under, babe.”
“All right. Everyone tighten your laces. We sure don’t want to lose our shoes now,” Gary instructed, pulling a roll of duct tape from the pack he wore on his back. After we’d each retied our shoes, we lifted our feet and he taped them, securing them to our ankles. I did the same for him and then tossed him the tape. Instead of tucking it back into his pack, he passed it to Stephanie. “Tape my leg,” he instructed.
“Gary, we can take a penalty. We’re not trying to win and I didn’t even think about your leg,” Hannah said.
“In the words of my teammate, ‘Not on your life’,” he said.
Once Stephanie had wound the tape around and around where his prosthetic was attached to his leg, he tucked the roll back in the pack. We stood to strategize how to move through the obstacle.
“Everybody stay close. Do not hesitate to ask for help. Lifting your feet is going to feel like lifting lead before we’re done.”
“We’re going to get filthy,” Stephanie said, looking at the pit before us.
“At least it’s not very far,” Hannah said, evidently not seeing the sign that identified this obstacle as the ‘Mud Mile’. I wasn’t about to point it out either.
Gary had no such hesitation. “This is but the first pit. See that wall?” He pointed to a wall that was about fifteen yards away. Once he was sure we’d all seen it, he continued. “It’s five feet tall and will be slippery as goose shit. After we scale it, there will be more pits and more walls. Ready?”
The women looked at each other, at the edge of the pit, and then joined hands, shocking me when they screamed, “Hooah,” and jumped. Water and mud splashed up and they squealed, but it was far too late to worry about staying clean.
“They are nuts,” I said as Gary and I entered in the normal way… by walking.
“They are having a blast,” he corrected.
We weren’t halfway across before Hannah’s hand disappeared beneath the surface. “Forget my shoes, I’m going to lose my shorts!”
As the shortest of us, the mud didn’t rise to her waist, but to her breasts. Still, she slogged on, occasionally tugging up her shorts. Staggering forward, she was breathing hard as Gary and I planted our hands on the top of the wall and pulled ourselves up. At the top, we hung over the edge and extended our hands to our wives. Hannah grabbed my wrist with both of her hands and allowed me to pull her up, her entire front sliding along the muddy surface. Once at the top, I held on while she swung her legs over and then dropped, straight into another pit.
It was by far the most difficult obstacle we’d yet done. We were all breathing hard, our legs trembling from the effort of lifting feet through mud that was determined to suck our sneakers off. I could actually feel myself stepping on shoes that had not been secured tightly enough to a participant’s foot.
“Oh, God,” Hannah said, bending over and dragging in huge gulps of air as we faced the last that this obstacle had to challenge with. It was a concrete culvert, mud cutting the diameter in half.
“We have to crawl,” Gary said. “Stay low and use your arms. Your feet will just slip. Hannah, you go first. Brett, go behind her so you can push if she needs help. Stephanie next and I’ll bring up the rear.”
The mud was thick, the holds nonexistent, but I enjoyed the sight of my wife’s ass wiggling from side to side as she buried her hands in the mire and pulled herself forward. At the midway point, she turned to look over her shoulder, her face streaked with mud. “For God’s sake, for a man who loves ass play, why aren’t you giving me a shove?”
Grinning, I scooted forward a bit and then planted my palms on her ass. “One, two, three,” I said and then shoved with all my might. She squealed but slid forward and crawled the last few feet. One by one we made it through. Standing, Hannah gave up trying to slough the mud from her clothes.
