So I mentioned yesterday that I ran my first 10K race in Philadelphia’s first annual Merrell Down & Dirty Mud Run this past weekend.

However, in all the post-race chaos, I failed to snap a photo of Chuckles and me in all our dirty glory.  I wish I had the excuse of being on hardcore hallucinogenics at the time, but I don’t.  I just totally didn’t even think about it. 

I am, in the words of Napoleon Dynamite, a frickin’ idiot.

Anyway, despite being a total flake, I still pulled it together enough to take some candid photos of my fellow runners braving the mud pit.

And, man, do I love these people.

Everyone seemed to have a different strategy when it came to the mud pit. 

Some tackled the challenge head-on.

 

Some tried a more delicate approach. 

And some came prepared for whatever happened. 

Goggles.  Genius. 

Then there were those who got by with a little help from their friends.

While some required other forms of, uh, gentle encouragement? 

“You’re a very nice person!” this drill instructor was yelling.  “You’re also a snazzy dresser and I admire your haircut!”

 Basically, the moral of the story was this:  You either embraced gettin’ down & dirty. 

Or you didn’t.

But, it didn’t really matter.  Because, either way, you got down & dirty.   

Dirty.

Dirtier.

Dirtiest.

After all, this wasn’t the “Merrell Clean & Sanitary Mud Run”.

This man had no sympathy for anyone, by the way.

And we all made it to the Finish line with smiles on our faces and mud in our teeth.

And the crowd goes WILD!

And, in the end, it was well worth the dirty running shoes. 

Or maybe not. 

But, hey, at least we got free burgers afterward.

And that’s all I need to call it a good day. 

Long live the Down & Dirty!