Ultra Relationship News – No. 5 – “Oh Cee Dee”

[Sorry for the week off, but at this time during last week’s “Bad Joke Friday,” I was taking on some real heat along a footrace course in New Jersey. Totally uncharacteristically, NJ was HOT AS HELL last weekend, and some kind folks were wondering why I chose THAT, instead of sitting in air-conditioning and writing THIS. Well, by now it’s all just “water under the bridge” (no, “melanoma under the sun lamp”). But let’s continue, you know, right where we left off. Hah!]
ULTRA RELATIONSHIP NEWS

Number 5, “Oh Cee Dee”

by Yours Troubly
(With all due homage—and nothing else—paid to David Mamet,
but now with somewhat necessarily changed language,
due to polite society)

[Rosa and Maribel (“Belle”) are running along the local paved bike path. Rosa has her Garmin on. It takes up half her forearm.]
MARIBEL: Huhnh… huhnh… huhnh… huhnh…

ROSA: You know, Belle, I’m just getting dam sick and tired…

MARIBEL: No…

ROSA: No?

MARIBEL: Not tired…

ROSA: What?

MARIBEL: Huhnh… can’t possibly be tired… you’re moving too fast…

ROSA: Oh. Sorry. We can slow it down a bit if you like.

MARIBEL: Please! Huhnh… huhnh… whew…

[They back off the throttle a tad]

MARIBEL: So… huhnh… what are you sick of?

ROSA: These *men*. These wimpy-butt dufus chitfaces with all the attitude.

MARIBEL: Who?

ROSA: For example, I just had this *thing* for a short while with some wimpified dufus called *Strawman”.

MARIBEL: Who? huhnh…

ROSA: His real name’s Ray. That straw chit is his stupid nickname.

MARIBEL: Huhnh…

ROSA: You know, he could NOT do a single pull-up! Not one!

MARIBEL: Huhnh… whew… nobody can do… huhnh… as much as you…

ROSA: Dam right. Hey, how’d you get on my right? You know I can only run with peeps if they stay on my left.

MARIBEL: Sorry… huhnh…

[They switch sides]

ROSA: Like I was saying… pipsqueaks like that Ray really pee me off.

MARIBEL: Could he… huhnh… run?

ROSA: Don’t know. I met his butt at CrossFit.

MARIBEL: Huhnh…

ROSA: He grabbed my thigh so I took him down. HARD.

MARIBEL: Huhnh!

ROSA: But then, you know what, Belle?

MARIBEL: No…

ROSA: I felt sorry for the guy.

MARIBEL: Huhnh…

ROSA: All twisted and crumpled, lying there on the floor… in a heap.

MARIBEL: Did you… kick his cashews… huhnh?

ROSA: His *what*?

MARIBEL: His… huhnh… nuts…

ROSA: I pitied the fool. Invited him over to my place.

MARIBEL: Huhnh… imagine… that…

ROSA: He was kinda cute. IF you could get past his weakness. Plural. Weaknesses. Many, many weaknesses.

MARIBEL: So… did you lick… huhnh… oops… I mean like… his cashews?

ROSA: Girl, what do you take me for?

MARIBEL: Huhnh… you have a certain… huhnh… reputation…

ROSA: I do, like flock!!!

MARIBEL: We’re just sayin’… huhnh…

ROSA: Who’s *we*?

MARIBEL: Huhnh… us in the running club…

ROSA: THE WHOLE FLOCKIN’ RUNNING CLUB???

MARIBEL: Pretty much… huhnh…

ROSA: That’s ridiculous. Those girls are just jealous.

MARIBEL: Huhnh…

ROSA: There’s not two decent *guns* in the whole lot of them.

MARIBEL: Huhnh… huhnh… huhnh…

ROSA: Ray didn’t have any either. Huh! What a douche-bag!

[They run in silence for awhile]

MARIBEL: So?

ROSA: So what?

MARIBEL: So did you have sex with the douche-bag?

ROSA: WHAT???

MARIBEL: Huhnh… you know… his *cashews*… or, huhnh… maybe they’re *peanuts*…

ROSA: Whatever they were, they weren’t for me. I decided. Right then and there. Too wimpy. If I was his mommy, he’d’ve cried in my pleats.

[She checks the instrument on her arm]

ROSA: We need to pick it up, Belle. Your anchor’s draggin’. We’re only averaging 13-point-5-8-9 minutes per mile.

MARIBEL: Huhnh… you go ahead then…

ROSA: Are you beat?

MARIBEL: Huhnh… uh-huh…

ROSA: But we’re supposed to be doing a 30-miler today!

MARIBEL: Huhnh… you go… girl…

ROSA: (Checking her instrument) And we’ve only gone 21-point-two-eighty-six so far!

MARIBEL: Huhnh… how about… huhnh… that?

ROSA: (Noticing) You’re on my right again, you know.

MARIBEL: Sorry…

ROSA: How’d that happen?

MARIBEL: Back there at the… huhnh… road crossing. You had to dodge… huhnh… the motorcycle guy.

ROSA: I think it was a chick.

MARIBEL: Huhnh… all the more reason… huhnh… for avoiding… huhnh…

ROSA: (Out of the clear blue) You ever make out with a chick?

MARIBEL: Huhnh?

ROSA: You know, having a little *fun* with a chick! Usually a naked one.

MARIBEL: No…

ROSA: Well, I have.

MARIBEL: Huhnh… I’ll bet…

ROSA: No, really!

MARIBEL: Huhnh… when?

ROSA: Last night!

[Maribel stops short, gags, bends over, and seems to initiate upchucking activities]

ROSA: (Stops also, but keeps looking at her instrument) Dam. I didn’t mean to startle you.

MARIBEL: (Gagging) No…

ROSA: Or shock you.

MARIBEL: (In between gags) You have this *reputation*…

ROSA: I’ll bet.

MARIBEL: Huh. You’re not wanting to do that with me, ARE YOU?

ROSA: No. You’re my buddy, Belle!

MARIBEL: Huh! Imagine that. OK then…

ROSA: Look, Belle, you’re not feeling too good. I can see that. (checks her arm again) And I still need… let’s see… another 8-point-7-0-something. Why don’t you relax, pull yourself together and just walk. OK? I’ll go ahead and come back. OK? Then we can go to breakfast.

MARIBEL: OK…

ROSA: (Leaving… quickly) OK, Belle. I’ll do a quick out-and-back. See you in a bit!

[Gone! Maribel slowly pulls herself together and starts waling. Point-seven-three-sixth of an hour goes by. Rosa comes charging back from the distance…]

ROSA: There you are! (checking her arm) Right about where I thought you’d be.

MARIBEL: (Slowly walking) I hope I’m not too disappointing.

ROSA: Hail no. You just need some more Ninja training is all. And drop twelve-and-a-half pounds.

MARIBEL: Sure.

ROSA: And once you get past that first pull-up…

MARIBEL: Could you stop!

[Pause, both react]

MARIBEL: So how far you *have* to go yet?

ROSA: (Checking arm) I only need point-one-nine-four more…

MARIBEL: To make an even 30?

ROSA: Yes.

MARIBEL: Then, by all means, go!

[Rosa is seen going ahead again, running, then stopping, checking her instrument, then running ahead again, stopping, checking, running back, stopping, checking, coming ever closer to where Maribel is now standing STOCK STILL and watching. Rosa does this at least five more times, eventually ending up exactly ten-point-four-eight-sixth-of-a-furlong behind Maribel where, yes, she finally does stop. Bam!]

ROSA: (With Maribel now coming over to her) See? That was easy!

MARIBEL: You’re out of control.

ROSA: *Now* we can have breakfast!!!

[They begin the, by now, rather LONG walk back to their cars.]

Happy Long Run Tomorrow, Every Body!

Yours troubly,

Rich Limacher
TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net <mailto:TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net>
(“in my own recollections of those fading Middle Ages, it seems dat dys dressed damsels kept such conversations in the boudoir where they belonged”)

Yankee Folly of the Day:
Speaking of remembering things, isn’t this Memorial Day Weekend? You know, back when the holiday was first established, Americans called it “Decoration Day.” Ostensibly for the purpose of decorating the graves of those fallen in battle. And I do wish everyone, um, a “Happy Memorial Day”—but that’s just not the right term, is it. Maybe if we all run awhile this weekend, our stimulated brains can come up with a more appropriate greeting. How about: “Happy picnicking! And while you’re remembering to bring the mustard, remember those fallen, who themselves answered the call to muster.”

Nah. Too long.