Real Men/Women of Genius #18

 

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Real men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Over-The-Hill-Trail-Running/Hitting-On Chick Non-Magnet.

{Mis-ter ollllllllld enough to be her graaaaaaaaaaandfatherrrrrrrrrrrrrr!}

What, after all, makes you think she could possibly have any interest whatsoever in your reporting of your performance at the first-ever Chicago Marathon? Back in the days when you ran in knee-high tube socks, Converse All-Stars, a sweatband, a sweatshirt, a silver Swiss watch, and those micro-mini satin basketball shorts you wore on the high school junior varsity.

{Herrrrrrrrr FATHER wasn’t even born yet!}

Here you are keeping pace with the best-looking young woman in the woods, and you’re badgering her with “The History of Running.” Right behind her behind, for the next 50 kilometers of single-track trail, you’re imagining she’s falling in love with your 10K times. ALL of them. Each and every race you have ever run in your life, stride-by-stride, minute-by-minute, beginning in 1968.

{Yooooooooooooooou should’ve beeeeeen there, baybee!!}

Dirty Old Man? Please. That’s not you. Those sorts of feeble drooling dweebs sit in train stations with folded newspapers across their laps. They’re not out HERE in the big forest running like a studly “slightly balding” macho man.

{This grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl IS warmmmmmmmmming up to yooooou!}

Does she want to come over to YOUR van after the race? And see YOUR medals and buckles and age-group trophies and forty-year collection of totally meaningful bib numbers–complete with their original safety pins?

{Whoa!!! Now she seeeems to be pulllllllllllllllllllllllllling ahead!}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, O Heroic Frank Shorter, and offer it to any or all of the potential granddaughters you believe are still worshipping your ass at the finish line. And if they won’t bite, then swagger over to their crewing mothers or great-aunts… possibly even the race director herself, because, most assuredly, you are indeed A Legend in Your Own Mind.

{Mis-ter Over-The-Hill-Trail-Running/Hitting-On Chick Non-Magnet!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where it’s made, we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
What in the world did we all ever do before high-tech fabrics, one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar running shoes, Max-something socks, chronometers, heart-rate monitors, and wristband GPS’s??? Oh yeah, and iPhones!