For weeks my friends and co-workers at Frog & Firkin had prepared for the Dirty Girl Mud Run. We made tutus and designed T-shirts.

They begged me to join in, asking me what could be better than spending our Saturday together running through mud?

I couldn't say no.

We arrived in style. Riding up in a borrowed black 28-foot '92 Cadillac Brougham limo, we made an entrance at Old Tucson Studios.

New to the world of mud runs, we thought up the name "Mud Honeys."

The nine of us couldn't be missed, walking in with our matching hot pink tutus and T-shirts.

We followed the signs for parking and registration and were told where to wait for our wave to start, joined by the "Breast Friends," the "Mud Slingin' Country Girls" and the "Berry Dirty" teams among others.

Zumba instructors motivated us to stretch and raised the crowd's energy ever higher. My friends danced off-beat, spinning in pirouettes without a care in the world of what anyone else thought.

All of a sudden it was time to start. "5-4-3-2-1," we shouted, and we were off.

The first obstacle was a muddy tunnel filled with water. We had to drop to our knees and crawl to get through. What seemed intimidating going in wasn't so bad on the other side - despite a few scrapes.

Fellow teams in tutus shouted out to us, cheering "Come on, girls in the pink!" as we made our way through the muddy obstacles.

We scaled a 10-foot wall, swam through a muddy pool, traversed a rocky, cactus-lined trail and then slid down a 20-foot inflatable slide into a pool of watery mud.

A couple of friends had fallen behind, and we greeted them at the end of the race with a mud fight. We had still finished first in our wave.

After throwing a little more mud, bickering over who was the muddiest and taking a few more photos, we went to a changing area, where dozens of racers took turns rinsing off clumps of mud.

Afterwards, free drink ticket in hand, we went to sit at tables near the DJ where we compared bruises and scratches.

I don't think this will be our last obstacle race.

Rachel Cabakoff is a University of Arizona journalism student who is an apprentice at the Star. Contact her at