Hi, I'm Hannah and I'm 21. Like many people, the first time I got in the mud was unintentional, and I was neither dressed for it, or prepared. But I was very surprised to find that I actually found it exciting and enjoyable, and I've done it again since! The first time occured when a former boyfriend took me out in his old Land Rover. He was well into them and used to do a lot of green laning at weekends. We were driving in an area that he often used, with lots of obstacles, steep slopes, muddy patches and the like. After a while, we came to a steep downhill section, with a very muddy track at the bottom. Down we went, and into the mud with a splash. As we drove through, the car got quite slow, and finally stopped completely. My boyfriend said he thought the car was basically floating on the thick mud, tyres unable to grip anything! Well, we tried everything, forward, reverse, rocking violently from side to side, but we were going nowhere! Finally, he said we'd have to go for help and leave the car. This would mean getting out into mud that was goodness knows how deep! But he asked me to get out first to see if the car would move without my weight in it! Cheeky so and so, I'm only eight stone! No wonder he's an ex! I was horrified, but felt I had no option, I mean, we couldn't stay there forever could we? I was wearing a jumper, black tight jeans and military style boots. I swung my door open and looked down at the thick mud. Oh well, here goes I thought. I put my left foot into it with a squelch, followed by my right. I just sank straight in, over the tops of my boots, not stopping until I was in over the knees! No wonder the car got stuck! I felt cold mud running into my boots and soaking into my socks. I tried to wade to the edge of the mud but simply couldn't move my boots. It's cool to wear them loose with tight jeans tucked in and this was my style on this particular day. I was kicking myself for not doing the laces up tight before taking the plunge! In the end I pulled my feet out of them and stood in the ooze in just my socks! It took me ages to extract the boots, and they were covered and full of mud when I got them out. There wasn't any point putting them on by now so I just chucked them in the car and waded through about two feet of the mud in my socked feet. When I got to the edge, I must have looked a right sight, covered pretty much from the waist down, shoeless and filthy hands and arms from digging my boots out! But to my surprise, I wasn't horrified by it. I'd quite enjoyed the sense of abandon and freedom that jumping in mud in my clothes had given me. My boyfriend had to get out too in the end and got almost as filthy, but did manage to keep his shoes on. We found a stream to clean up in and got most of the mud off. I waited there while he went to get a mate with a tow rope, as I didn't have any shoes on! My socks actually cleaned up OK, being mostly black with some pink bits. In fact everything subsequently washed and was OK, but I had to hose my boots out in the garden! I think my favourite part of the incident was when I was reduced to just my socks in the mud. This felt really liberating. I've played in mud with shoes and socks a few times since and really enjoy my weird new hobby!