Last year, I ran in my first mud run. Think 5k with inflatables and mud. Lots of mud. Well, they also had beer, which was a nice touch.

Any who, post-run they had a beer stein holding competition. You needed to hold a beer Stein directly out for as long as possible without spilling a drop. The prize? A ticket for another beer.

Watching, I soon realized the prize was not really another beer, but rather pride. Sort of a “I’m Stronger Than These Other Dudes” pride. I also observed that almost all of the participants appeared to be ripped college students. Get this, their time to beat… 2 minutes and 30 seconds.

So I got to thinking, I could do that. A year of practice and I could be a beer stein holding champion. I could represent every guy out there with a Dad Bod, every guy with love handles, every guy with abs that are there, just hidden. Plus, I could beat guys half my age. A hero of sorts for the every man. I could do it. I knew that I could.

So I registered for the next year’s mud run and I practiced. Not as much as I should have, but I did practice. Turns out that a topped off beer stein weighs about 5 pounds. So I would practice always with the 2:30 time in mind. I don’t mind saying that I got pretty good. Top time of 4 minutes. I was ready. As ready as a middle aged slightly round in the tummy guy could be. I was gonna make normal dudes everywhere proud. I was going to represent. I was certain that I could win.

Well, yesterday was mud run day. I got muddy. Something else happened too. It rained and as we entered the final stage, it began to lightening, as well. Know what that means? Course closed. Race over. No more mud and… no beer stein holding contest. No chance to represent. No chance for glory.

My friends, championships are nice. They really are, but as for me, I’m at peace. At peace, because I know what I can do. I can do great things. I know what I would have accomplished. I know that I can hold a beer stein out for a really long time.