It was spring about ten years ago when my neighbor asked me to be in charge of the mud pit.

"You want me to do the mud pit?" I asked. I was stoked.

You see, Freddie was the genius behind our neighborhood annual adventure race. He conducted this community event for at least a decade. Groups of kids from the families in our neighborhood, Buena Vista Ranchos, would form teams with their friends, then spend a sunny Saturday afternoon in early May competing in an adventurous race facing obstacles that challenged them physically and mentally. It was the highlight of the year for many families.

My wife, Stacy, loved to work the food challenge. This was no ordinary hot dog and hamburger stand. The food stop was one of the most daunting stops on the adventure race. Why? Because the kids would have to eat something outside their comfort zone to pass the gate and get the next clue. Every year there were tears. Every. Single. Year.

Before the race, Freddie would pull the parents together and show them what the kids would have to eat. The parents could try each of the weird and odd things he and his wife, Holly, had uncovered over the last year. One year it was chocolate-covered insects (crickets and grasshoppers). Another year it was spicy candies like chili-covered suckers from Mexico. They never had anything dangerous. But kids can be fussy eaters, and Freddie knew that this was one place he could get them out of their comfort zone. Humans are shockingly resilient. Just because you do not want to eat something, does not mean you cannot eat something. The kids never had to eat anything unsafe, and surprisingly every year the foods were allergy safe. Holy and Freddie really thought it through.

But they also gave the kids a safety valve. If a kid absolutely did not want to eat a food (some of the Asian sweet treats had a strange texture that even I found hard to swallow), they could take a five-minute penalty and pass.

The funny part is that it was the adults who encouraged the kids to skip. The kids almost never wanted to miss this challenge. They would sit there and cry and cry, often for a lot longer than five minutes, but something in the back of their head made them want to face this specific challenge and overcome it.

They wanted to be challenged. They wanted to try. Leaving your comfort zone always is, but I think instinctually, we all know that when we do, we are better for it.

For my part, being asked to oversee the mud pit was a special honor. And my goal was to make a mud pit that would be as daunting as the food table. It would be thick and gooey, and the racers would have to get completely messy. There would be no way to dodge the mud and get the next clue. Every racer, on every team, would have to dive in and get covered in thick, brown, sticky mud. I couldn't wait.

I also knew how much fun Stacy had at the food table, so I was determined to make a mud pit no less daunting. It wasn't that I wanted to make kids cry. I just wanted them to feel challenged. The feeling of overcoming something difficult is really rewarding. So, my mud pit needed to be special.

Our neighborhood is built in an old orange grove. Freddie offered up a section of his front yard between his lemon and tangerine trees. Grabbing my shovel and hose, I got to work. I worked the dirt loose with the spade until it was a good six to nine inches deep in loose dirt. Then I started to mix in the water. Being an engineer by training (and disposition), I was shooting for a hydration level that would give the mud the right viscosity (that means fluidity). Strangely, because of my work at Rainbow Studios making motocross and ATV games, I knew a lot about mud. It's weird stuff, not exactly a solid or a fluid; it is like a thick foam when done right. I went through the pit, made sure all the rocks and sticks were removed so it was safe to travel barefoot, and then I staked out the course - twenty feet of low string "hurdles" the racers would have to get under.

I made sure there was no way to complete the race without getting completely submerged. In fact, in one spot the kids would have to hold their breath and go under. Or lay on their back and with just the tip of their nose up get under the string. It was devious. I paraphrased the line from the Fellowship of the Ring movie in my mind, "All shall see my mud pit and despair!"

When I was done, I had the right blend of creaminess and stickiness. From the top, the pit looked muddy, but the moment you stepped in you would sink up to your ankles in thick, gooey, brown mud.

Awesome.

I finished just before the start of the race, then sat back in my lawn chair and waited. A half hour later, when the sun was good and high in the sky, the first racers arrived. My mud pit was just one of multiple physical challenges the kids had to face, but I was sure it was the most daunting, and yet when the four eleven-year-olds pulled up, it was not fear I saw on their faces but excitement.

One of them even said, "alright." And with absolutely zero hesitation, they dropped their bikes, peeled off their shoes and socks, and tromped into the mud. The moment they stepped in and sunk upto their calves in mud, they got even more energetic. Then one boy dropped to his knees and dove into the track. The rest followed suit. They crawled, and swam, and squirmed through the mud like human-sized worms. The biggest challenge for them was to stop grinning so they didn't get mud in their mouths.

That was when it hit me. Getting dirty is fun. Kids are always getting dirty, and usually getting yelled at for it. But the mud pit was an obstacle that begged them to get not just a little dirty but covered from head to toe in gooey dirt. I mean, how often do you get a chance to get really covered in mud?

My hoped-for "feared mud pit" instead became a favorite attraction as more racers pulled up and jumped in. They tried to outdo each other with how covered in mud they could get. Another parent showed up with a camera and started taking pictures of each team as they exited the track.

Most of the time, the kids came out of the pit one uniform color of clay. The mud had successfully covered everything about them. And it was the same for every group, boys, and girls. Elementary schoolers and middle schoolers. They all pulled off their shoes and socks, and jumped into the mud and swam, crawled, wriggled, and slid through like salamanders in heaven.

Everyone loved the mud pit. There were a few kids who were intimidated at first, but getting dirty is a lot easier to wrap your head around than choking down a dragon fruit for the first time. It reminded me that not everything we are afraid of is bad for us.

Consequently, my plans for the mud pit did not turn out the way I expected. They turned out better. People loved the pit, and even some adults came by and crawled through it just to pretend to be a kid again, I suppose. (And yes, I crawled it myself in case you're wondering - it was icky and cool all at the same time.)

The magic of the adventure race was that Freddie, and the other volunteers created a safe environment for kids to act independently, in small groups, to solve problems and challenge themselves to do hard things they had never done before. Every participant discovered they were more than they knew. The race challenged kids to be resourceful, resilient, and relational. Each team had to work together; many of the puzzles forced cooperation to complete.

Some of the challenges were hard, but others were simply unusual, uncomfortable, or both. And I am willing to bet every single one of those kids cherishes those memories to this day. I know my kids still do, even as they have graduated college and have launched into their lives.

Isn't childhood meant to be full of playful experiences we can experience in small groups of close friends? I will admit that creating an entire neighborhood-wide adventure race is not easy to do, but what about one mud pit? All it takes is a hose and a spot in your backyard with some exposed dirt. I know GameTruck appears it is all about video game parties, but what we are really all about is playing together. And sometimes, you don't need technology to have an amazing group experience. If you gather a group of friends, could you create an international weird food tasting challenge? Or how about an obstacle course with fabulous prizes from the dollar store? The important thing is that the kids get to see themselves as capable.

The point is, once you realize these kinds of experiences are possible, it becomes easier to find them or create them for the kids in your life. Play is never farther away than your imagination and willingness to be creative. And if you can recruit some other families to join you, it makes it all the more fun.