Remember a while back when I wrote about strength? I wrote a little bit bitchy bitter piece about my problem with the ‘Strong is the New Skinny’ mentality. Not because I had a problem with strong, but because I had a problem with the definition of strong. I had a problem with it being defined by how we look and not what we accomplish. Well, last Saturday was my definition of strong. Last Saturday, 6 days after running the Army Half Marathon, I dropped one kid off across town, then drove 2 hours to my aunts house and dropped off the other 2, then drove 2.5 hours to a friend’s house to stay overnight so I could run my first Tough Mudder. I stayed up way too late talking to my friend because, well, the army moves you all over and then you see each other again but it’s 9pm and you have to race the next morning.  So you still stay up until midnight and get up at 5.  Whatever. After spending 15 minutes sneaking around the silent house trying not to bother anyone looking for a phone that I HAD PUT IN MY BRA, I headed out the door before 6 with an hour to kill having breakfast before I was scheduled to meet my teammates. Except my phone stopped connecting to the network and all I knew was my teammates were meeting me at a Tim Hortons in Barrie, Ontario. Friends, there are 10 Tim Hortons in Barrie, Ontario. Canadians really friggin like Tim Hortons. So after almost an hour of driving and now 5 minutes away from our Rendezvous time, I was on the side of the road, near tears thinking it was all over. Except my…