Real Men/Women of Genius #23

 

[My thanks to Joe Judd for suggesting this, something he witnessed–but not exactly.]

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Real men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Half-Naked Formerly-in-3rd-Place Legendary Ultramarathon Stoic.

{Mis-ter “I uuuuuused to beeeee a con-ten-derrrrrrrrrr”!}

It’s 96-degrees. The sun is grilling roadkill. You have shoes on–or off–maybe shorts. Nothing else. You’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from everything. You *think* you’re still in a footrace. You left one of your two small water bottles back at the last aid station, and the one you’re carrying is two-thirds full.

{“Telllllllllllll me how far beeeeeeee-hind the lea-der I am?”}

In your wisdom, you tell the pack-of-the-packer who catches you, “I was carrying two bottles, but was only drinking half. So I switched to one bottle and left one back there.” Well, that’s just genius. You’ve lightened your load! You’re traveling swifter and easier now. Your burden has been lessened.

{And the wolves won’t eat ya ‘cuz you have no nu-tri-tion-al val-uuuuue!}

But, ya look good. You’re all long-haired, tanned up, and buffed out. If only the last-placer were a lady, she’d fall instantly in love. She might ask for your diet tips, your weekly mileage, whether you cross-train, and where in the world did you buy those sexy shoes. “What color were they originally?” she might ask.

{“Laaaaaaaaaaaady, can’t you see I’m dyyyyyyy-ying?”}

“Like crap,” you say when asked how you’re feeling. “I was in third place and just lost it.” You are handed some salt tablets and given an update on how far ahead the NEXT aid station is. “I took two aids at the last salt table,” you say. “I maybe still could fourth finish.”

{“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII can maaake it! I’m a mag-guh-zine cov-verrrrrrrrrrr boy!”}

So crack open a hot Bud Light, O Bronzed Poster Child for Muscle & Fitness, whenever you finally do arrive at the next aid station and are timed out.  Because really, as every trail ultra legend knows, it’s not how you finish, but how you look: in your almost-clothes, with your striations popping, muddy calves flexing, and tongue *not* hanging out of the side of your mouth.

{Mis-ter Half-Naked Formerly-in-3rd-Place Legendary Ultramarathon Stoic!}

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:
It’s marathon season, don’t ya know? Time to recheck your training log, drive yourself nuts by tapering, stock up on E-caps and gel-packs and gummy bears and bottles and flasks and bladders and ponchos and at least three fresh batteries each for your: heart-rate monitor, GPS, cell phone, and combination chronograph/altimeter/distance-log; oh yeah, and don’t forget to order your completely different orthotics and brand-new shoes.