The Spectator.

My flip flop broke. At the most inopportune of times. Not that there's really an opportune time for such an event to occur. I guess. I woke up at 5:30 Saturday morning under the assumption that I was dropping off my husband at the buses and then creeping back into bed. My plan was to wake up a few hours later, haul a case of beer and be on my merry Tough Mudder way. So, I count my blessings that I had the foresight to not wear my pajamas because I found that dropping off my husband at the buses really meant paying $10 to park and then joining him on the buses. The $10 really threw us for a loop. First and foremost. Luckily we were able to pawn ourselves off for a mere $1 bill. Thank you Tough Mudder volunteer for your generosity in overlooking our cashless asses. We were just that prepared. Clearly. And so, this is how I found myself hobbling to the buses, with one workable flip flop. As a result, I spent the remaining portion of the day clunking around in my husbands spare sneakers. When I say I looked like a clown, I actually mean that literally. I was a sight for sore eyes, not that anyone was looking. Most people were more concerned with the 20 degree weather and the prospect of submerging themselves in the next big ice bucket obstacle. Close call, on my behalf. Tough Mudder is no joke. Especially when you're the first heat and it's cold. And there are a lot of intentionally cold water surprises in store. Thank heavens for the Inn at Poconos Manor, its close proximity to the event and the complimentary tea. It was quite the adventure for me. Oh yeah, and I guess for a few others who actually participated in the event. 12 miles of pure joy, that course. Fun photos below.