"What was that?" squawked the walkie talkie.

"No, he's conscious, but we should probably get some oxygen down there." The first aid attendee responded and then turned to me, "How's it going?"

"I just need a bandage for my knee, don't want to bleed on everything else," I respond, looking down at my red and expanding knee. The slip-and-slide obstacle I just pulled myself off wasn't the yellow plastic and manicured lawn version seen in commercials. It was black tarp and frigid water laid on top of what had felt to be a rock garden. "My cut doesn't sound as bad as whatever that conversation was about," I add, wondering what obstacle could result in someone requiring oxygen.

"Yeah, it's actually been a pretty light day for injuries," the medic replied cheerily, pulling out a gauze bandage and a roll of medical tape.

I was already grateful my pride didn't get in the way of me asking for a bandage. Crawling around in mud with a gash on your knee was sounding less and less fun.

"Thanks so much," I said, grateful for some added padding and a clean view of the damage, once the blood was wiped away. With the entire roll of tape now transferred to my knee, I saw that my group was already in the next obstacle. This one was a series of hay bails in a pool of murky water. The goal was to jump in the water and climb over the hay. Not too bad, but any interaction with water during a mid-50s day in the fall wasn't exactly the ideal. With my fresh bandage, I jumped into the murky brown water and began to climb over the hay with the grace of an injured manatee.

All of these obstacles were part of the Tough Mudder, claiming to be "not your average lame-ass mud run or spirit-crushing ‘endurance’ road race. Our 10-12 mile obstacle courses are designed by British Special Forces to test all around strength, stamina, mental grit, and camaraderie. Forget finish times. Simply completing a Tough Mudder is a badge of honor." Apparently lots of people pay to participate in these things, and I had been coaxed by my gym mates to sign up back in August.

The race started with the registration area at the ski lodge where the event was taking place. And what registration wouldn't be complete without a mohawk station, a temporary tattoo station, and a keg toss station? We arrived to find people spray painting their hair, stretching, and generally just barking and shouting to psyche themselves up for the race. My approach was to look around pensively and wonder, "what the heck is wrong with all these people?" Road races--5ks, 10ks, half marathons--are their own sort of strange. People sign up to run at ungodly early times on a Saturday or Sunday, with no hopes of winning the race. But at least they stay clean. Here at the tough mudder, people make a whole weekend event of the race, sleeping over at the ski lodge (thankfully there was no snow on the ground) and proving their primal-ness by running the race in a costume, or if that is too much effort, in as little clothing as possible.

I was expecting a 10-mile run with a bunch of obstacles in the way. The "race" turned out to be more of a 10 mile hike up and down ski slopes with obstacles that were closer to nuisances along the way. Yet... it was pretty awesome to go across a 30ft span of monkey bars set up over water, and to run up a 15 foot hay bail and propel yourself over it. I think those had to be my favorite parts.

Then there was "Chernobyl," literally a (supposedly clean) dumpster full of green ice water (yes, there were chunks of ice, frequently refreshed by the forklift close by) that you had to jump in and submerge yourself under a board and then climb out. This "obstacle" was toward the beginning of the race and was pretty much designed just to make the rest of the course miserable. It worked.

But in a weird way, this part of the race was one of the most exhilarating. You jump into the ice bath, not knowing what to expect, and then all you get is your body screaming at you, "get out you fool, get out!" I jumped in with a water bottle in my hand and don't even remember letting go of it. All I could think about was "out." And once you got out, every nerve in your body is on alert. I seriously have never felt so awake in my entire life. And even if just for that feeling, the course was probably worth it. Although I could probably create a dumpster ice bath for less than the course fee...

Anyway, the rest of the race felt kind of gimmicky. There was a short barbed-wire crawl, a balance beam over water, a log carry up a hill, two sets of walls to climb over, hay bails to vault over, and super-steep ski runs to trudge up. Combined with the fact that the race came at the end of finals/midterms week, with every step I just wanted to be back in bed. It was a fun experience, I just had different expectations going in. I was expecting more crazy physical feats that put your thoughts on hold and less time staring at the backs of someone's calves in front of you, wondering "who thought of charging money for this? they must be sick. or the best salesman ever..."

But yes, I am now a "mudder," proved by my bright orange head band hanging from my cubicle wall at work. I think the whole experience was summed up at the end, when we all got our "free" beer. All I could think was, "man, I am freezing. I need to drink this beer fast so I can stop holding this cold cup." There are many more intelligent ways to enjoy a beer. Walking 10 miles in wet clothes and waiting in line for obstacles is one way to get a beer, but certainly not the smartest.

Roar!