You should be one of THEM…

Posted: September 29, 2013 in Self-Deprecation
Tags: , , , , ,

Acronym-related puns make THEMselves when you’re one of us… or I should say, one of T.H.E.M.  That’s right, your favorite band of masochistic miscreants took on another Mudder– this one touted as “Pittsburgh.”  Yinzers, time to get even more pissed than the 0-4 Steeler record, because this event wasn’t even in West Virginia and carpetbagging on the nearest metropolitan landmark.  Oh no, it was in Ohio.

I would normally make a “dirty flatlander” joke here, but we were at Powerline Park.  Those of you familiar with that place know that the terrain’s regularly used for goddamn ATV/Truck/Motorcycle rallies/races and general-purpose motorized fuckery.  Motorization is not part of the Tough Mudder unless your busted carcass is being carted to the EMT’s.

Ironically, easiest and most comfortable obstacle...  look at the WAKE off my hands!

Or drowned.

So last year I halfassed my training, but having a couch-tier fat fuck along for the ride both covered and injured my unprepared ass.  This year, I came ready to Johnny Badass this thing— as did the vets from 2012.  However, you clearly see no costume on me—that’s because the whole Vegeta thing fell apart with the foam wig idea, and my Deadpool getup was held up at US Customs for two fucking weeks.  The vanity training paid off anyway– I kept up with the military contingent of the team well enough.

Yeah, Pink.  Wanna fight about it?

Dirty and Happy is the only way to roll.

That said, there’s only so many times you can climb a goddamn mountain before you’d choke a bitch for a man-made obstacle.  The terrain this year was unreal.  Seriously, the cats planning Tough Mudder “Pittsburgh” (yes, I’m entitled to use sarcastiquotes for the venue) relied heavily on the mountain over hammer and nails.

I’m not complaining about how strenuous the track was (yeah I am), but this year was more of a cracked-out trail run than a Tough Mudder.  Cleveland 2012 had over 20 obstacles to conquer, but this year had maybe 14.  The rest of THEM would agree.  That’s right, we wanted to up the ante with more fire, electricity, water, and cannonballs.


Speaking of…

It’s official, however, we’re all addicted to this torturous pastime of ours.  Our fervor is to the point of picking specific challenges to dominate—naturally mine was Funky Monkey.  I ended up in the cold, unforgiving, muddy drink last year.  This year… well, Jill 2.0 handled it as expertly as if it were my dick—with no gloves or wrist brace because I’m a forgetful moron like that but that’s another sidebar entirely.

No gloves = better grip... who'd'a thunk?

I think these guns are borderline illegal, thanks to the NYS S.A.F.E. act…

Jill 2.0 is victorious!!

Sweet, dry victory…

Next year, we tackle Buffalo for the trifecta.  Seriously, you should get up off your Cheeto-chomping ass and join T.H.E.M.  You have a little over a year to get ready, and accept the fact that your definition of “ready” is going to be like a kid’s definition of the Tooth Fairy.  Sure, you know you’re right—but you don’t know how wrong you are.

Now quit cowering, I’m hoping for a horde of T.H.E.M. next year—and we roll as a team, nobody left behind. What do you have to lose besides your fallacious definition of badassery?

Over the fire, and into the drink, walkin' in fire we go!

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

Yes, I want you to be one of T.H.E.M.


  1. […] you ask?  What could I have possibly done that would do more damage than a Tough Mudder (let alone two?)  I’m almost embarrassed to say, and it actually didn’t involve a foray into my […]

  2. […] one of the things I’ve been doing in lieu of writing (besides drinking and running my third Tough Mudder) is getting in touch with my tech-obsessed […]

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