My birthday

So today is my birthday. I'm officially 27 years away from 80 so that's how old I am.
80 seems to me a scary age. It seems very, very old because women in my family on both sides have croaked around that age. I don't plan on dying before I'm 80 or anytime around it simply because my husband's genes will make it so he lives to be 100 or something, and I refuse to be replaced. He would replace me.

Replacing people. ...brings me to the Dirty Dash. It's a race for charities that people actually sign up and pay to do so they can get muddy and cold in Midway.

My son-in-law, Josh, signed up for it. No big deal. But then he convinced two of his brothers to be part of his team, "The Dirty Heros," and my other son-in-law, Tyler. A friend was also supposed to run with them. A family emergency happened, and my son Chad was conned into running with them.

Josh bought white tank tops for all of his team members, superhero briefs and colored tights. Or what he thought was tights. They were not opaque. But the briefs covered, barely, what needed to be covered.

Chad, who is 29, has ran two marathons. His times have been, OK, really good, like 3 hours and 14 minutes and 3 hours and 19 minutes. I'm a mom. I remember these things. (OK, so both races were within the last year). Chad runs several times a week, if not every day.

Josh, his brothers and Tyler are lucky to run once a week.

So there we were in Midway on Saturday, with these five men dressed as super hereos, ready to get muddy. It was a bit brisk, temperature wise, but these five men weren't going to let chilly weather deter them. They took off with about a hundred other runners dressed in colorful costumes to run cross country through lakes, mud and obstacles.

Chad believed his pace was slow enough for the other four to keep up.

Nope, Chad, who is thin, with no body fat, had to wait for the others to catch up so he could face the cheering crowds with some support. He was freezing before it was done.

But as I watched all five men swing across the hay stack, yes, swing, I was really proud of them. By this time, they were covered in mud, with mud in their noses, eyes, hair and ears. Sure their attire was comical, but they were doing it to help others. I was also humbled by the number of people who ran the race. Some did it for a specific cause, others, like my team, did it for all.