I am crazy. Here I am, sitting at my computer, listening to Weezer and eating crackers. If I were on exhibit right now, the tour guide would say something along the lines of, “And right here, ladies and gentlemen, we have a young college student in her natural habitat. It’s a rare occasion to see her in her room without Netflix, so you folks are lucky today. Don’t tap on the glass. She might see the outside world and feel inclined to socialize.”

Yes, the aura of laziness is pungent. But lo and behold, this lackadaisical creature is doing a Tough Mudder in August. Why? Well, heck if I know anymore. My intentions were pure at first. There I was, a naïve thing, listening to my friends talk about the glory of the Tough Mudder. I was intrigued, smitten even. I watched montages and inspirational Tough Mudder videos on Youtube. I was hooked to the notion of performing such an act of strength and willpower.

Strength? I have never even once beat someone at arm wrestling. Willpower? Good one.

For those that don’t know what the Tough Mudder is, it’s a hardcore 10-12 mile obstacle race designed by British Special Forces to challenge the toughest of the tough. And, as the name implies, there is a LOT of mud. These aren’t your usual lily-livered obstacles either. There is a 15-foot ramp you have to get up, which the course operators admit they put oil on to make it harder. There is another obstacle where participants jump into a dumpster of ice, which is designed with barbed wire to force them under the ice. To top it all off, there is electroshock at the end.

It’s intimidating, especially for a girl who still has to ask her dad to open a jar of pickles for her. But there’s no turning back at this point. I already signed up for the Tough Mudder in Pittsburgh in August and committed to doing it with my friends. It’s six months away, but I am going to need that entire span of time to prepare myself. I should have started when the semester started, but I am a procrastinator and told myself I should wait until I was done with my shows for Fringe Festival.

Well,  I am done with Fringe. To quote one of my favorite musicals, Les Miserables, “The time is now. The day is here.”

I have no idea where to start. Do I try some of the classes at the Recreation Center? How many apples a day is too many? Is protein powder overkill? Where is the locker room in the Rec Center anyway? I have so many questions, and all I know right now is that I should never skip leg day. Or at least that’s what Tumblr tells me.

So, don’t judge me too harshly if it look like I don’t know what I am doing when you see me at the Rec Center. In all honesty, I probably won’t know what I am doing. But maybe, just maybe, I will be ready by August. Bring it on.