Short Essay #2

The weather is scorching at a high of 97. Thank goodness I wore a dry-fit, I think to myself as I join my team on the dry dirt road. Five minutes until go time. Part of me just wants it to be over, yet part of me is excited for the experience.

Swshh, Swshh, Swshh. I lean over the sink uneasy. It seems like these dirt stains may never come out. More soap, I say to myself. I reach over for more.

We run back and forth on the pavement until we are both breathless. "One more time," she says to me. I think to myself, do I really have this much energy?

I can't seem to get them out. The dirt looks like it's multiplying in my hands. I roll my eyes at my impatience.

I reach a rest area, drink some water and continue onward. "Duck!" Some screams from in front of me. I quickly fall to my belly and use my elbows to crawl underneath the sharp metal surface above me, dragging layers of dirt with me as I go.

I think about the dragging as I perform a second round of rinsing. Lovely brown smudge marks all over the front. I would need a miracle to bring cleanliness to this sink.

I muster up the breath for another round of running. This time the surface is more natural- a grassy spot. "On your mark. Get Set. Go. 1, 2, 3, GO!" She yells back at me as she takes a head start. "Cheater!" I yell back from behind. As we approach the end, we both fall on the ground.

I change from bathroom soap to detergent. This should do it, but I don't want to jinx myself. Aha! The dirt is slowly starting to disappear. Just as I get excited, I notice the grass stains...

Mile after mile, obstacle after obstacle, I become more exhausted by the minute. Covered in mud, dirt and grass, I climb down from the haystack pyramid, and give a promising look at the 40-foot swim that will soon be within my reach. Then only 4 more obstacles to go.

I wasn't prepared for this. I remember I watched those Tide commercials as a kid thinking, this is so stupid, everyone knows stains have to come out. How naive I once was. Pshh, Pshhh, Pshh, I scrub as hard as I can.

I run over to make sure she is alright. At first she is upset, but then she laughs. I am relieved she is well. “I know, I know,” she says. “cheaters eat pumpkins.” She then runs over to me covered in dirt for a tickling match. I try my best to hold back but manage to get out, "Come on little one, your dad will be waiting for you for dinner."

Swshh, swshh, swshh. I am almost done. Dirt is harder to remove than I thought! Although, I may never know if it is more difficult for children’s, or adult’s clothes...