
It’s been about 25 years since I’ve covered myself in mud on purpose, so when one of my coworkers approached me with the idea of participating in a mud obstacle course, I was initially reluctant.
Since it wasn’t happening for a few months I figured it was no big deal and I decided to place it in the back of my mind for a while. When the day finally arrived, I found myself climbing, crawling and wading through thick, murky brown water. I knew immediately that I was in for an experience like none I had before.
The Muddy Princess 5K Obstacle Run in Minot, Maine this past June wasn’t just about the untimed course or even the breast cancer research fundraising. It was about the instant sisterhood that formed as women helped each other conquer giant pink mud-covered obstacles.
My team of coworkers was dubbed “The Mammogrammies.”

As we entered the venue, the energy was palpable. Teams who had already completed the course passed us, their once pink tutus now stained permanent brown. Without knowing what to expect, we lined up at the start to get our pink tie-dye shirts dirty.
The first thing I remember is mud slowly seeping through my old hiking boots and entering every nook and cranny between my toes. On this blazing hot day, the cold mud was surprisingly welcome. My confidence built with each step – until we reached the second obstacle.
There it loomed before me: the blow-up slide. I’m scared of heights, and things that might unexpectedly deflate. Frozen at the top, I was unsure which would be the best position to make my way down the slide. Noticing my hesitance, a kind stranger said, “Don’t worry, I’ll go with you. You ready?” The displays of camaraderie had already begun.
That moment of trust with a stranger carried me forward with renewed energy, and I was surprised by how much fun I was having. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t focused on how hard the task was, how out of shape I am or how hot it was outside. I felt alive, and each obstacle left me wondering what came next. The mud in my boots that had felt intrusive at the start now felt like a badge of honor.

When I spotted the rolling log suspended over a deep puddle of murky, foul-smelling mud, instead of seeing another obstacle, I saw another opportunity to surprise myself. One coworker supported me from behind while two others grabbed my hands, helping me navigate over the log – only to have me slip and plunge face-first into the cool, gritty liquid below. I came up sputtering, wiping mud from my glasses and laughing harder than I ever have. It was incredibly cathartic and cheaper than therapy.
After a long period of inactivity, this event rekindled my love for outdoor activities. I have always loved being outside, but with increasing life responsibilities and stress, that love had waned. I found it again alongside three coworkers who have become friends.
I was reminded that I’m always stronger than I believe, and that strong people come in all shapes and sizes. So many incredibly strong and independent women crossed the finish line that day, crawling through one last obstacle to receive a shiny medal and pose for a group picture in their mud-covered glory.
Feeling the sun on my face, I made a mental note of how different I felt now. Four months ago, when asked to participate, I laughed and said my coworkers would have to carry me because there was no way my body could do a 5k.
But that same body had just carried me every step of the way — through dirt and mud, up steep hills, over inflatable slides, under metal fences and through knee-deep mud. Something I once thought would be the hardest thing ever turned out to be one of my favorite memories.
Sometimes the perfect outdoor adventure has nothing to do with picturesque mountains or quiet lakes. It’s all about the mess, the grit and the friends who love watching you be gloriously, unapologetically you.








