Real Men/Women of Genius #93

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss!}

Today we salute you, Mr. “Fresh Flawless” Logic of the Ultrarunning Listserv.

{“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII think, there-fore yooooooooooou must-n’t!”}

Patrick Stewart, highly polished little Russian boxes, Hope Pass, and hydration packs big enough inside to smuggle a small child? Wow. The coherence here is truly remarkable. “‘Beam me up, Scotty,'” you write, “would take on a whole ‘nother meaning.”

{Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre yoooooou talk-ing por-nog-raaaaaaaaaa-phy heeere?}

We guess so! To the best of our knowledge, neither Patrick Stewart nor “Scotty” has ever run an ultramarathon. Probably never even a 5K. And yet, astonishingly, they somehow have relevance to a listserv totally devoted to running ultramarathons.

{“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat is-the-sound-of one lunch-box to-tinnnnnnnnnng?”}

And being able to smuggle small children does, of course, always figure largely into any runner’s evaluation of which hydration system enables easiest drinking while totally being on the run.

{Ya think, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-beeee just go-with-a-wa-ter-botttttttttttttt-tle?}

Here’s another gem: “microsleep.” You write like it just rolled off the Intel assembly mini-line in Silicon Valley. “It’s dangerous,” you say. Sure. Everyone knows “macrowideawake” is better, especially over the second half of a multiday race. And then you pen yet another incredible flash of logic: “In high school, I ran a 5:15 second mile.” There you cover the second half of the race, but not the first.

{“Annnnnnnnnnnd thee best way-to-cure-sleep-i-ness is sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”}

We should subliminally give you some kind of sublime credit for this one, though: “I don’t need to look like the girl on the cover. I’d rather know I could overhead squat her.” Whoa! You–a male–got this out of the Kama Sutra? Because we would all just love to know, like, WHEN during the entire course of a footrace the opportunity ever arises to “squat” anyone, especially a female and, incredibly, over your head.

{“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII can al-so beat my per-son-al trai-nnnnnnnnnnnnnner at chest!”}

So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, O Cosmic Plato of the Plutonic Logic, grab a partner and practice your contortionist over-the-head squatting. And will you be needing toilet paper? But now we like *this* logic best of all when you tell us that, before every race, you “lacquer” your tootsies with motor oil. Because we certainly can appreciate the fact that, at 3,000 revolutions per minute, you do indeed need to sooth against all that friction heating your feet up inside your shoes.

{Misssssss-terrrrr “Fresh Flaww-less” Lo-gic of-thee-Ul-tra-run-niiiiiiiiiiiiiiing List-serv!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where they brew it; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Book Review:
http://tinyurl.com/VirginAndVeteran.

Better Resource:
http://thefuntimesguide.com/2004/10/bud_light_real.php.

Yankee Folly of The Day:
If a chicken-and-a-half lays an-egg-and-a-half in a day-and-a-half for a race-and-a-half, how many should you place in your one basket for Badwater?