Real Men/Women of Genius #81

Ingelhook Wineries present…

REAL WOMEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al gals of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we raise our glass to you, Miss OCD Worrywart that You WON’T Be Ready for Your Upcoming Ultra After Having Been on a Rather Strenuous Three-Week Vacation.

{Missss just-reeeee-turned-from speeeeeed-hik-ing Southhhh-east Aaaaaa-sia!}

You are afraid–aren’t ya!–that you will *not* be prepared for your next footrace in a month-and-a-half, after having freshly returned from the trip-of-a-lifetime to Vietnam, during which–just so you *wouldn’t* simply relax and lounge around the pool all day–you decided, in honor of your grandpa, to hike the entire Ho Chi Minh Trail.

{Hoooooooooope-ful-lyyyyyyyyyyyyyy all the A-gent Orange is gonnnnnnnnnnnnnne!}

And now you’re begging for “help.” You’re soliciting sudden inspiration and immediate encouragement, not to mention updated / super-pressured training regimens that’ll help “get you ready.”

{Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu should’ve jus’ swummmmmm laps-in-the-pooool!!}

So let’s see if we have all this straight. You speedhike approximately one thousand miles of rough jungle terrain within the short time allotted for your vacation–averaging at least 50 kilometers a day, and with nightly windsprints and fartleks around the campgrounds, however you could squeeze them in. You existed on brown unshucked rice, meager beans, and still-podded peas–losing quite a few pounds in the process, leaning out like a goddess, increasing your speed and stamina like an Olympian–and *now* you’re back home and suddenly worrying about how the hell you’re going to survive one-tenth that distance on crushed limestone, no jungle, nothing poisonous, and with fully-stocked aid stations out the ying-yang.

{“But-I-am sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo UN-pree-pared for RUNNNN-INNNNNNG!”}

You *have* to be kidding us, right?

{“Maaaaaaaaaay-be I-can-run-back-to-back-50-mi-lers at-8-minnnn-ute-per-miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiile pace!”}

Well, yank that cork quickly out of your White Zinfandel bottle before someone else–better trained–steals it from you, O Keeper of Pace Charts and Obsessive Clocker of Race Times, because, really, if you’re thinking–just because you haven’t *run* very much–that THAT will severely hamper your performance in a few weeks? Give it up now! Surrender your top-five finish to somebunny else and just keep drinking. You’re “a hopeless disappointment” to the rest of us, who somehow survive such ultramarathons without hardly running at all.

{Misssssssss O-C-D-Worrrrrrrr-ry-wart that-You-WON’T-Beeeeeee Readddddd-y for Yourrrrrrr Up-commmm-ming Ulllll-tra Af-ter Hav-ing Beennnn on-a-Rath-er Stren-uuuuuuuu-ous Three-Weeeeeek Vaaaa-caaaa-tion!}

White Zinfandel yuppie wine: we don’t drink it ourselves; we’d rather guzzle beer.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
We even think tramping through 2-foot snowdrifts is good speed training.