Doggie Math: Mutts Cost Money.

The mightly Lab(ish) dog known far and wide as Wendell.

While maximizing my internet time by remaining highly focused on the task at hand (yeah, right), I came across a Bloomberg article regarding the exorbitant cost of canine companionship. “Tally up the lifetime costs and it’s more than a few college tuitions,” touted the article. They compared “a top-of-the-line Australian Labradoodle living the high life vs. owning an equally-loved mutt or rescue dog whose owner has a more down-to-earth approach.” The items and prices for the Labradoodle were beyond ridiculous, so I threw them out the window and decided to stack my beloved mutt lab Wendell against their hypothetical down-to-earth 50-pound dog in New York City (with a 12-year lifespan, in case you were wondering).

While this isn’t a dog about blogs (there are enough out there already), longtime Mountain Kidd followers know that over the years there has been one constant companion for adventures long and far: Wendell, my black Labrador Retriever mutt. But the article made me wonder – while I couldn’t put a price tag on my dog, just how much does he cost?

Basics

Mutt

• $100.00: Cost of dog (includes spaying or neutering, microchip)

Wendell ‘cost’ 500 pesos that I donated to the lady in Mexico who was helping launch a vet clinic and ran a very, very informal pet adoption program. That’s roughly $50US, and I did get him microchipped so I’ll let this cost stand. Yup, Wendell was a street dog in Mexico. How much more “mutt” or “rescue” does it get?

• $102.00: New York dog license

That would be $10 in Wyoming. Clean air is free, too. But I digress.

• $35.00: Collar, leash

Yup, gotta have these.

• $4.95: Metal dog tag

Those too.

• $22.99: Petfinder.com: The Adopted Dog Bible

Wendell never asked for a Bible.

• Free: ASPCA Pet Safety Pack with window decals

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $264.94
• Wendell: $149.95

Bedding

Mutt

• $129.99: Basic one-door crate ($110.00), with quilted crate mat ($19.99)

Wendell’s crate was $20 at a garage sale. Incidentally, the best garage sales in the universe are in Jackson, Wyoming. Don’t say I never shared my top secrets with you. As for the quilted crate mat, I just move the blanket that was his original bed… genius, right?

• $99.00: LL Bean Premium Denim Dog Bed

Swank bed was free, courtesy of the owner of The Blue Lion in Jackson, Wyoming. It was too small for his dogs. I did spend $10 on a small fleece throw for Wendell that functioned as his bed prior to this windfall.

• $6.00: Ticking clock to “simulate heartbeat of puppy’s mother and calm it down”

Wendell came to me at age two, thus saving me this $6 and countless pairs of unchewed chews. It’s easier to not adopt a puppy.

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $499.93
• Wendell: $179.95

Training

Mutt

• $16.99: Housetraining for Dummies

Wendell was two and was never tried to go in the house. If he’s sick (rare), he even scratches at the door to go outside and vomit. That’s a good dog and again, it’s easier to not adopt a puppy.

• $99.00: “Mutt Manners” five-week class

I taught Wendell his manners.

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $615.92
• Wendell: $179.95

Poo

Mutt

• $37.99: Cost of 300 “wee-wee” pads

I don’t know what these are. Nor do I want to.

• $127.80: Lifetime supply of Resolve Pet Oxi Advanced Carpet Cleaner and Nature’s Miracle Deep Cleaning Carpet Shampoo

I’ve bought two pet cleaners, mostly to clean my house up after other peoples dogs. I’ll put $40 in this column.

• $802.50: Pooper scooper and biodegradable pick-up bags

Pooper scooper? How about “the shovel that you already own”? And I get pick-up bags from the station on our daily walk. My taxes pay for them, anyhow.

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $1,584.21
• Wendell: $219.95

Food

Mutt

• $30: Two large white dog bowls
• $5,342.00: Pedigree dog food
• $900.00: Treats including Beggin’ Strips and Cloud Star Buddy Biscuits

Alright, these are fair. I buy Wendell the good food, too.

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $12,382.56
• Wendell: $6491.95

Doggie Doctor

Mutt

• $3,120: Routine veterinary care

Checkups and stuff. It’s the responsible thing to do.

• $672.00: PetArmor Plus flea and tick protection

No fleas or ticks in Wyoming. There are pluses to living in a bitterly cold climate.

• $1,079.00: Heartworm treatment

It’s only warm enough to do this half the year, so I’ll add half this number.

• $1003.02: Super VitaChews multivitamins

They make vitamins for dogs? Really?

• $49.99: ASPCA Pet First Aid Kit

Umm, no.

THE TALLY

• Mutt: $18,306.57
• Wendell: $10,151.45

From here, the article starts to get just silly in my eyes. $4,348.00 in premiums on catastrophic pet insurance? Really? And Wendell’s grooming category falls under sunk costs such as “the garden hose” and “the dish soap”. Don’t even get me started on the doggie clothes for the dog and the doggie-related clothes for the human. Buying a dog that is comfortable in your chosen climate is a lot cheaper. Pugs get cold in Wyoming, Huskies get hot in Arizona. Is this really a surprise to anyone?

The lifetime total for the hypothetical mutt was (are you sitting down?) $59,668.88, but as you can see there are a number of costs that my mutt doesn’t incur. However, even with my fairly minimalist approach (my dog doesn’t even like toys), I’ve ran the cost of Wendell up to five digits. For this, I get constant adoration and a willing mountain bike and ski buddy 365 days a year, which is a pretty good value in my eyes.

Read full article: Labradoodle vs. Mutt: The Real Cost of Owning a Dog.

Michelle’s Famous Healthy Banana Bread

For years I’ve been making this banana bread for road trips, ski trips, ski tunes trades and other various thank yous. It’s a variation on a classic wholesome banana bread with a few more nutrients and a little less sugar. I always make a double batch, usually one regular size loaf for home and two mini loaves for neighbors/friends/etc. If you just want to make one regular loaf, cut the recipe in half (duh).

Michelle’s Famous Healthy Banana Bread

1 1/2 cups sugar

1/2 cup butter, softened

about 6 mashed ripe bananas
(3 1/3 cups)

1/2 cup milk
(soy, rice, cow, whatever!)

1/2 cup plain yogurt

2 large eggs (or 4 egg whites)

2 cups all-purpose unbleached flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 cup combination ground flax/wheat germ/oat bran
(feel free to experiment!)

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

cooking spray OR Williams-Sonoma Goldtouch® Nonstick loaf pans

1. Preheat over to 350°.

2. Cream butter and sugar at medium speed until well blended. Add banana, milk, yogurt and eggs; beat well.

3. Combine dry ingredients (flour, baking soda, salt and flax/germ/bran mixture) and stir well. Add to banana mixture and beat until blended. If you want to add some walnuts or chocolate chips, this is your chance to stir in a handful or two.

4. Spoon batter into loaf pans, coated with cooking spray if they’re not nonstick. Bake 1 hour 10 minutes for 9 x 5 loaf pan, 45 minutes for 5 x 2.5 mini loaf pan OR until wooden toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

40 Miles Feels Like… 40 Miles

The first half of our ride, more or less. The rest is a blur.

I’m guessing that you’re curious as to how I traveled these 40 miles, so I will keep you in suspense no longer – by bike. While I’m well aware that certain die-hard road bikers do “century club rides” (that would be 100 miles) with alarming frequency, this 40 miles trek was my longest to date. And boy, did it feel like long.

We started out strong from south Boulder with temps in the low 40′s. I was nervous. My heart is with my mountain bike and on single track it’s you versus trail, rock, trees, etc. But suddenly I was facing a much bigger, scarier foe (cue dark, gloomy music): cars.

My fear can partially be attributed to the results of an informal poll I have conducted that past 5 years or so. Every time I meet someone who is really passionate about road biking, I ask if they have ever been hit by a car. The answer, without exception, is “yes”. This is not a comfortable margin for me.

So, with the fear of Not Being In Control in my heart and two Boulder locals, we wove through the intricate system of Boulder bike trails before striking out on highway 36 north towards Lyons. For the first few minutes, I had an odd feeling I can only describe as anxiety. The cars passing by were too loud and disruptive. What if someone reached down to change the radio station and swerved? However, finding that level of anxiety too high maintenance, I soon settled into a happy peddling rhythm and watched the colors fly by.

And by colors, I mean bikers. In matching colors. As my friend Aaron pointed out, if you see a biker with a jersey that matches their shorts which match their bike, you’re about to get your butt kicked. I can further simplify that to if you see a biker with a matching jersey and shorts, they are passing me, which leads me to this solid hypothesis: matching makes you go faster.

I did not match. In fact, I didn’t even have slick tires. I was laboring away (happily, I might add) on my Jake cyclo-cross (see this post for more info on Jake). While I appreciated the margin of comfort provided by the tread, I do believe I had to work a bit harder than if I had outfitted my bike with slick tires. But it was all worth it when our posse veered off 36 North to Hygiene road and the Crane Hollow Cafe.

The Crane Hollow Cafe is tucked in the sleepy town of Hygiene and has some truly delicious eats. So delicious that I could have ordered a second sandwich after the first tuna melt went down incredibly easy and just started to ebb the hunger of a 20 mile pedal. Alas, it was not to be – someone (not me) had only brought $20 cash for our duo to dine at the most excellent cafe. This proved to be a problem.

I had no juice left for the return ride. Luckily, our brilliant Boulder friends had stacked the odds distinctly in my favor – we looped back on a shorter, 17 mile road with less hills (okay, okay, I know you’re doing the math and it’s only a 37 mile ride. But 40 sounded better for the title, so just relax). My quads just felt empty. The sandwich didn’t make it past my belly. While I had chowed down before the ride, I had forgotten my #1 rule of long hikes/runs/bike rides – bring lots and lot (and lots) of food in many forms. A Gu shot or two would have made all the difference. While I know this to be inherently true for me, I still found myself without. Is life just a big repeating loop after all or will I someday get wiser (provided I don’t get hit by a car first)?

Yummy-recipe-of-the-day: Whole Wheat, Rosemary & Caramelized Onion Bread from Simplyscratch.com

Having Enough

This image appeared to Patagonia customers via email on cyber Monday. See the text of this blog for link to full email.

I’ve recently married, which pertains to this blog in that two incomes are now in one household. Naturally, this had led to increased economic comfort and confirmation of what I already suspected: more doesn’t equal better.

My quest for simplification is becoming a daily struggle instead of an occasional thought, fueled largely by the fact that it feels so good to have open, airy spaces and a place for everything (even if everything may not always be in its place).

Take my biggest demon: clothes. By donating a (large) handful ill-fitting or seldom worn items, my drawers went from stuffed full to comfortably closing. It’s easier to keep the bedroom tidy and I can find the clothing I want more easily, which leads to more time doing life’s more fulfilling activities. But once you get there with the clothes, how do you stay there? To this query, I have a radical proposition (and it’s not ‘one in, one out’), which was recently highlighted in a stunning email campaign by Patagonia: buy less.

Before your hackles get taller than a terrier meeting a mastiff, hear me out. I’m not suggesting you eschew any and all new purchases; just ones you don’t need. And that’s what Patagonia asked, too. Just think twice before purchasing those $15 sweaters at the Old Navy. In my experience, they will stretch and their color will fade before the season is out. Instead of having three sweaters in three colors, take that $45 and buy a sweater that will last for many winters to come.

I’ll admit that $45 doesn’t buy a Patagonia sweater (it’s more like $89+). But if you refrain from buying clothes of questionable quality at department stores, that initially expensive Patagonia sweater comes with a guarantee that you probably won’t need. I have ski jackets from them that routinely get trashed on lift-serviced skiing. Purple can turn to a dark, dirty grey at an alarming rate, but their gear washes amazingly well and can be washed and repaired to look like-new for 5+ years or more. And if you tear something, send it back to them. Chances are they will still have the same fabric (even it it’s 25 years old) and will repair it at a reasonable rate. But you probably won’t even need to find out. I have expedition-weight fleece long underwear that has seen me up the Grand Teton and though Class V whitewater in West Virginia. That was 8 years ago, and it’s still going strong.

So next time you see a deal, or think you ‘need’ something, consider the definition of ‘need’. And if you have to have it, can you buy it used? Can you repair what you’re replacing? Patagonia has partnered with eBay in an effort to facilitate getting little-used gear to new homes.

And don’t forget once of the best parts: saving money. For much of my life, my money goes towards travel, but now I would love to work on paying off the house ahead of schedule. Think of how great your few high-quality sweaters will feel in a house that is owned by you instead of the bank.

P.S. Patagonia has free shipping through 12/8 and quite a few web specials/sale pieces. Click here to see.

My repair of a wool shirt.

Rad-ski-video-of-the-day: http://vimeo.com/sherpas/jpstreet

Diving in Belize + Win Gortex!

First, a note from our sponsors (not really, but they did contact me about this contest and it sounds cool!):

Want to win some  GORE-TEX® gear? Then check out the awesome contest they are running on the GORE-TEX® Brand Facebook page from Nov 21-Dec 15.

The ‘Your Story – Our Gear’ contest invites you to share your story about how the  GORE-TEX® gear delivered for you when it counted in a memorable outdoor experience.The most compelling story will win, so get going and upload it to the contest page along with a photo or video of yourself .

The Top 10 entries will be determined by People’s Choice voting, and then three expert judges — an AMGA guide, a Gore tri-athlete, and a GORETM MountainTechTM – will pick the grand prize winner, who gets a sweet head-to-toe GORE-TEX® gear package. Choose from among the hand-picked The North Face, Marmot, Patagonia, or Arc’Teryx product groups.

And now, for the blog:

Diving in Belize!

To make a happy Michelle, just add water.

I must humbly pat myself on the back for a few things I did in quest for dive certification. The very best and brightest thing was doing the pool work and homework at home (a.k.a. Casper, Wyoming – and chances are if Casper has a dive shop, your town does, too). This means that one windy weekend, I sat in a classroom on a Friday night and Saturday and Sunday afternoon. On Saturday on Sunday morning I wore a lot of dive gear (which seemed like slight overkill in the local high school swimming pool) and practiced dive skills as I became familiar with all the equipment. We flooded our masks, then cleared them. We practiced breathing from a friend’s regulator and a free-flowing regulator in preparation for numerous ‘hope it never happens’ scenarios. I stood on my head at the bottom of the deep end and watched the bubbles float up. So why was this so brilliant? Because in Belize, I did a few dives and sat by the pool.

Lionfish! An invasive species in Belize, the poisonous barbed lionfish is the only animal divers are allowed to hunt.

To complete open water certification, you must do four dives in two consecutive days. When the dive days dawned in Belize, I happened to be completing them with one other student, Molly. Molly did not do the homework and pool work ahead of time. This meant while I embroidered by the pool (yes, I’m aware of how dorky that sounds) and sipped delicious rum drinks, Molly donned a mask and tanks and hung out at the bottom of the resort’s pool. Then, Molly read chapters from the PADI book and completed her quizzes. Poor Molly. And to make matters worse, I can’t help but feel that I received a more thorough education from Western Divers in Casper than Molly did in Belize. Yes, it cost a little bit more than it would have in Belize, but as they say “time is money” and my vacation time is worth about $60,000 an hour (give or take). And are dive skills really a place where you want to skimp, anyhow? I didn’t think so.

For more information on diving certification  (and some rad sounding vacations!), check out PADI.

Movie-of-the-day: Fat Sick and Nearly Dead. Watch it. It will be featured later right here on MountainKidd.

Mountain Kidd Takes a Break

What? Why? Because I’m getting married. And one of the many cool things about getting married is a honeymoon, which will involve diving in Belize! More adventures to come when I come back in mid-November.

Riding the Mickelson Trail

There ARE two dogs in the trailer - look for Shasta's ears to the right of Wendell, the big black Lab.

With Fall colors (finally!) at a peak, we decided to make good on our “we should do that someday” and headed over to the Mickelson Trail in South Dakota.

At only 3.5 hours from Casper, this weekend trip was a hop, skip and jump in Wyoming drive times and delivers a lot of bang for the buck. The wide trail is built on an old railbed and totals a huge 109 miles of packed gravel with only slight inclines over some sections. The user fee is a very approachable $3/day for everyone over 12 and the trail is open to bicyclists, hikers and horseback riders, although we didn’t see any horses on the trail. What we did see was lots of healthy forest, a river (a major plus for the dogs) and some awesome secnery from some of the 100 converted railroad bridges and four rock tunnels.

For a bike, I choose my Jake, a cyclocross bike from Kona that is basically a sturdy road bike with slightly knobby tires. It was definitely the right tool for the day although a mountain bike with the suspension locked out would work well, too. We rode about 20 miles on Saturday, which started slow as there was some intense dog training happening. What was the training, you ask? 20 miles is a lot for Lab like Wendell to run and Shasta is a 15-year-old border collie/blue heeler. Needless to say, there is no way she is running 20 miles. But since our dogs are our adventure partners, we improvised sometimes they ran, other times they rode- in a trailer (see photo at right).

Wendell was NOT impressed by the trailer. After being bribed in by treats, he nearly had a heart-attack when the bike started moving and gave new meaning to the phrase “sad puppy-dog eyes”. The trailer was specifically designed for dogs and featured a super helpful tie down in the middle which had to be extremely taut to prevent Wendell from jumping out and being ran over. However, an hour and half a bag of treats later, he sat up proudly, unrestrained (but with a watchful eye on me at every second) and learned to enjoy the scenery. A successful weekend for all involved and one that may be repeated on cross-country skis in the winter. Stay tuned for Colby pulling a trailer over now sans bike…

Colby at Mount Rushmore

Parting tip: If you go and find yourself a little saddle-sore after the first day, take a day to visit Mount Rushmore. It’s right there and worth a visit once in your life. Also, eat dinner at Sylvan Lake Lodge and get a picnic lunch (or just get food in your tummy after a wine tasting) at Prairie Berry Winery. That’s all folks!

Cooking-site-of-the-day: Gojee.com – put in what’s in your fridge and pantry, and it gives you a recipe. Brilliant.

Transitioning Lifestyle: The Gym Debate

Yoga at Prana

Last fall I left my beloved Tetons in the name of love and moved to Casper, Wyoming. Just five hours from the valley of Jackson Hole, Casper seems a world apart. Of course, Jackson is a world apart from any town that doesn’t wear the ubiquitous title of ‘ski town’. But the part of Jackson I miss most are my recreation options.

Let’s say I worked on the computer for the morning and early afternoon and wanted to get out with my dog for some quick exercise before the evening (or another job) began. From my home in Wilson (7 miles down the road from the town of Jackson), I could jump in the car and in 5 minutes be at the trailhead to hike old pass road to Crater Lake. The road hasn’t been used since the new highway went in over Teton Pass in the 70′s. Paved on the ascent, the hike is a great loop with a calf-burning up and meandering single-track down. The top of the trail has a small blue lake perfect for thirsty or swimming dogs (mine would be thirsty type only). And if I was really ambitious, I could even ride up to the trailhead safely on a sweet bike path. If I was in the mood for a longer hike, I could opt for picturesque Ski Lake (which I have blogged about before here). Or maybe I was after great single-track biking. Just a few miles higher reside a number of trails like Blacks Canyon, Jimmy’s Mom or the Ridge Trail.

If I was more into a pavement-pounding mood, I could run on Wilson bike path with striking Teton views and horses braying in the neighboring fields. And there was always a chance to see some Wilson flair, like the resident I spotted walking her goat on a rope. What, you don’t have a goat on a rope?

But maybe I didn’t want to get all sweaty but spend some outside time with a girlfriend catching up while our dogs ran themselves silly – then I would go (again, in less than 5 minutes) and walk on the Snake River dyke. And I haven’t even gotten to town.

Seven miles down the road in the town of Jackson another world is waiting and in it another blog, but suffice to say Cache Creek along has a weeks worth of single track. But enough about Jackson – what are my options in Casper?

In Casper, I can hike Rotary Park with Garden Falls and the 4.5 mile Bridle Trail. There are also a number of hiking and biking trails on top of the 8,130 tall Casper Mountain. None of the trails have posted signs for directions or mileage. I’ve heard there are a number of bike trails on Muddy Mountain, but by that point we’re into an hour drive from home and that’s tipping the scale towards more car time than recreating time, which is definitely not MountainKidd style. So what do I do? I’ve been hitting the gym.

Less than 10 minutes from my new Casper home is a great fitness studio called Prana Fitness. I’ve been enjoying classes like Bootcamp, Pylo-Kick, Kettlebells and Yoga Sculpt with some pleasant surprises. In just 45 minutes, I can get my heart-rate up in a major way and work on enough muscles that my reduced mountain-biking schedule doesn’t mean reduced strength. I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find that even though I’m not riding often, I can ride as hard as I did when I rode four+ days a week. And another advantage? At the gym, you can go HARD. There is no slowing down to listen for bear or moose or terrain evaluation to avoid avalanches. It’s just you and your body – and the guy running the class who missed an illustrious career as a drill Sargent. And while I will always miss my breathtaking Teton views, I suspect this adaptation is the key to lifelong fitness and the happiness that comes with it.

Interesting list of the day: Money Magazine’s 100 Best Places to Live.

Tough Mudder – Only Kinda Tough: Part 3

The half-pipe, where one team member lost a ring- out of his nipple.

Welcome to the  not-so-epic conclusion of Tough Mudder! I last left off berating the Chernobyl jacuzzi for drying out my skin, but I have not yet addressed the obstacle that gave me the most anxiety before the race: the 12 foot high walls.

Aptly named the “Berlin Walls,” the wooden planks were distinctly void of ropes, ladders or handholds. While I had trouble finding pictures of the walls, I bet even the least imaginative can image a 12 foot tall wall. My anxiety was due to the fact that I cannot solo get myself over a 12 foot wall, but luckily this was a team-oriented event. While our method for getting over the wall varied, the easiest for me was when two people clasped their hands together and I put one foot in each hand. Once I got my hands on the top of the wall with my body weight moving in that direction, I could push all the way up. On the top, I straddled the wall then fully extended my body down the other side before dropping to my feet. However, I saw more than a few women yelling for help down the other side. Since I was down, I went over to one such woman and provided a spot used in rock climbing when someone is bouldering (climbing low elevation technical rock). The spot isn’t designed to ‘catch’ someone and doesn’t actually touch them until they are dropping, which is when the spotter ‘guides’ their descent so they don’t land flat on their back. But in this scenario, my spotting skills were grossly overlooked by someone judging me for my rather insubstantial size, which is a long way of saying this: a man on top of the wall who was apparently on the same team of the screaming woman took one look at me with my ‘boulder spot’ and started yelling “could I get some DUDES over here to help her?” Whatever man.

I bruised the front of my hip going head-first down the giant slip-and-slide. This guy obviously gets more style points.

But the walls weren’t my only concern – I was a little worried about this whole ‘electric shock’ thing. The site showed live wires and touted 10,000 volts, which seemed like an awfully high number to me. Someone more electrically minded than myself said, “it’s not the volts you have to worry about – the amperage is what kills you.” Reasoning that it was unlikely that they would be ‘killing people’, my plan was to watch others go through it – if someone outweighing me by 100+ pounds was knocked down, I might just skip it.

However, by the time I actually reached the obstacle I formed a new plan; pick the biggest guy on the team, let him get a head start and run right behind him. It worked brilliantly and I may have been the only one on the team that didn’t get shocked.

Pick the part of this picture that gives you a reason to run. Everyone over 21 gets a free beer at the end!

My final pre-race anxiety was what to wear and I’m hoping this helps out future Tough Mudders. Beaver Creek, the ski resort where the race was held, has a base elevation of 8,100 feet and a summit elevation of 11,400 feet. At the end of June, those elevations are maybe starting to think about summer and the numerous water features had me more than a little concerned about hypothermia. I finally decided on my long REI cycling tights with neoprene shorts on top and my thinnest (hence quickest drying) synthetic Patagonia top. In hindsight, I would have ditched the shorts (they fell down when wet and running) and an even tighter shirt. I would recommend only skin-tight, synthetic clothing. Wet fabric flopping around is just annoying and clothing that has any extra room will shift when swimming. As for hypothermia, I did finish the race cold but not cold enough to lose motor function.

When all was said and done, I’m super glad I did the race and while it’s not all that ‘tough’, it has raised over $1.75 million dollars for the Wounded Warriors Project, which helps out severely injured service members and is the best reason to run I’ve heard in a long time.

Music-site-of-the-day: Songs to lie on your bed and stare at the ceiling to

Tough Mudder – Only Kinda Tough: Part 2

The race start was a controlled fall down a steep dirt slope with loose gravel. Impressive.

Last week, I gave an overview on a 10 mile race called “Tough Mudder” that bills itself as “probably the toughest event on the planet.” This week, I’ll break down the specific obstacles that made me say “probably not.”

The start of the race was impressive. We hiked up steep vertical for about 10 minutes while a charismatic announcer gave us the skinny: if you’re pregnant, don’t go through the electrical shock obstacle because it’s like being inside a microwave. Duh. If you brought gloves to wear (tighter fitting mechanic-like gloves), pat yourself on the back. If you didn’t, say “that was stupid” (after which a few hundred people obediently chanted). After the national anthem and a bang, we were off. Our team choose a steady shuffle for the descent, of which I wholeheartedly approved of as a few of the more aggressive and less coordinated runners ate dirt HARD.

After the hill, we hiked up the better part of a blue (intermediate) ski run before coming to the icy ponds. The first was a huge muddy hole about chest-deep. I half-swam, half-ran through the pond until a banged my shin hard on a massive boulder completely hidden by the murky water. It felt how I always imagined a certain fall while climbing: the one where you clear a ledge and take a whipper (fall) and bang your shins at a steep 45° angle into a 90° rock corner. And I have the scar to prove it.

My sister and I noted a surplus of guys willing to lend a helping hand.

The pond with barrels to swim under came immediately after the mud hole. If you missed last week, a photo and synopsis of this obstacle is there. What I didn’t mention is the hundreds of heat foils laying on the ground and bushes immediately after the barrel pond. I got a hand out of the pond (there was actually a surplus of hands from male non-team members throughout the race. Very gentlemanly.) and wrapped myself in a foil for a few minutes before we all started running again to heat up.

The first aid station was awesome – electrolyte drinks, water and cliff blocks. All the aid stations after this featured water and bananas and I didn’t even need to break out the packet of Justin’s honey and peanut butter I had on me in case of bonking.

The icy 'Chernobyl jacuzzi'. You can't say they're not creative. And yes, that arrow means 'swim under'.

But I know what you really care about is the obstacles. Quite frankly, there were quite a few weak attempts before the next obstacle of note. On the way up to a wooden tank, an elderly lady with perfectly coiffed hair and a sun umbrella leaned over from the sidelines (crowds were gathered at a few key obstacles) and yelled in my face, “you go girl!”. If made me feel good. But then my killer logo recognition made me feel bad. Piled in front of the tank were hundreds of plastics bag sporting a cute little polar bear. They were ice bags. I climbed the wooden slats to the edge of the tank and confirmed my suspicions with an added bonus – the water was glowing. The tank I was about to plunge into was bright red, but the one next door was neon green and next to that an electric blue.

Note to the coordinators of Tough Mudder: my skin massively freaked out after this race. Super, painfully dry. I blame the dye in this obstacle.

But there’s more! The Tough Mudder eval concludes right here, next week.

Recipe-of-the-day: I find solace in chocolate and this one is from the lady herself: Triple Chocolate Mousse Cake by Martha Stewart. Don’t worry – it has video.