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Showing posts from 1999

Quadruple Dipsea: "I Got Woods, Babe"

I found myself with my lovely girlfriend at the Muir Woods Aids Station this past Saturday morning. It was as if I dreamt I woke up in Manila in a tub full of ice, holding a note that said "call 911". But I still had my kidneys. I was a volunteer.

Yes, I had departed my usual haunts in the roiling glittery mecca of sin and decadence of Los Angeles, known affectionately as "The Great Satan", and made his annual penetration to the Dark Heart of Northern California Ultrarunning. I was prepared. I had brought my 'Barney' hand-puppet, complete with bib number 69 from a previous Quad Dipsea.

Slowly our team assembled. Suzanne Williams, the Aid Station Sumprema bent us to our tasks. Ms Leslie Sowle, Professor Liz Boyd, Suzanne Williams, and Yrs Truly, Mr Trail Safety. Mo Bartley, erstwhile Goddess of Cool had other plans, presumably involving rotation of air in tires, and was unable to join us. We were a fine blend of wizened experience and fresh, raw talent.

Ms Kerr…

Divine Madness, Love Lost and Other Passions

(4/09) further reading on Divine Madness running cult:

This Women's Sport and Fitness article on Divine Madness and a reporter's infatuation has really gotten a head of steam up. I read it with considerable interest, and located the following pressure points:


a sense of longing and lack of fulfillment on the part of the reporterobservations of a group dynamic that are manipulativehe curiosity of the reporter about how to do bettersome editorial tweaking to pump up the text for the non-ultra readership [which is infinity minus 8,000, give or take].

For those who've seen Yo Tizer in action at Leadville and are willing to remember, it's memorable. Watching the "Yo Ladies" circle while he's having his feet rubbed and blocking traffic at Twin Lakes gave a lot of crews the burn. Never mind that their runners were on their way out or back.

If you missed that, the Awards in '97 were instructive, and over the top in '98. You missed a real treat.

Keeping all…

Mr Trail Safety's Kare-Bear Ultras

In response to rising concern about the Safety Factor In Ultras®™,
Mr Trail Safety is happy to announce the creation of Kare-Bear Ultras.

Is this Evolution or Kreationism? Ponder that warm fuzzy thought while we happily spool thru the following features:

THE RACE COURSES:

* HO-Scaled 50k, 50Mile, 100k and 100-mile courses.
This HO scale is not what tourists go to Bangkok or Vegas for,
but we'll make adjustments *just* for you. Because you are *special*

THE COURSES WILL ALL BE:

* Gently Rolling
* Carpeted in PGA Spec-Compliant Turf
* Tree Shaded by Genuine Virgin Old Growth Brazilian Mahogany
* Moonlit as Necessary
* Marked with Glow Sticks and Really Kute Animated Animated Trolls that
grunt and point.

THE AID STATIONS WILL STOCK:

* Oversize Milkshakes in vanilla only
* Yummy Mommy-safe Power Pudding
* Tip-proof 80oz Sippie-Kups
* NoFat Irradiated Devilled Eggs
* Free-Range Not-too-Spicy KimChee
* Reclining Ergonomic Wide-Butt Lay-Zee-Boy Doubble-Wide Recliners
* Keepsake gingham pillows to nappy…

Wasatch 98: Nostalgia, or Brain Death???

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Hey, there's only 9 hrs difference between Brandon and me. And he was profoundly grateful. He'd paced me at Leadville in '97--25 miles of hilarious discourse on poisonous mushrooms, Copper Cyn, lizards, and then some ultra what-all. I was running so he wouldn't stall out from the granny-gear workout.
For all of you lucky guys and gals doing Wasatch this weekend. This is when it was easier. Sort of. Or maybe brain-death masquerading as nostalgia, which ain't what it used to be.


Looking For Kitty: Free-Range Organic Wasatch Bandwidth
We were all Looking For Kitty. This Kitty, and we the fortunate few. Over the course of time, space and electrolytic conversion; private ambitions were molded like sticky Powerbars into public objects. Sometimes art is not pretty.

I joined the Limbo Line with 250+ other supplicants. By race end, there were 14 Crimson Cheetahs, sub-24 Hour Gods all. And then there were the rest.

With my 28:14 finish, all I got were whiffs of Kitty farts. That …

Trail Runner: The Big Movie

A long time back, a nameless person suggested:

To make trail running really popular, it needs to be on tv. Or the subject of a box office smash. Then you'll have all sorts of folks out on the trail.

So, to humor the humorless...here's TRAIL-RUNNER: THE MOVIE!

*See gelatinous Hollywood club-rats act out some of your favorite trail-running scenes, and lip-sync lame dialog at low elevation!

*See Hollywood actresses with suspiciously large breasts fumble for their water-bottles and flashlights in the day-for-night shots!

*Hear the hit ballad "Your Love Is Like a Powerbar" as sung by Celine Dion, Britney Spears, Puff Daddy and the Teletubbies!

*Look for the 96-can Limited Edition Pepsi Cans of your favorite TRAIL-RUNNER stars in the BurgerSwamps near You!

*Watch and wait as MILLIONS OF AMERICANS just like you decide that they would rather eat a pine cone and bark at the moon instead of running a step.

*Gloat at your inevitable Darwinian superiority.

See, you really can have it all…

12 Advice Nuggets for Ultra-Newbies & Others

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I originally posted this in 1999 or so. It has a long shelf-life and the mouth-feel is still wonderful.

Recently there have been a spate of anguished "drops" from the UltraList regarding content, tone, and suitability of the message, if not the messenger. Inasmuch as the majority of these messages appear to be from relative newcomers to the sport, or the List, some clarifications are necessary.

I want to thank Suzi Shearer and Laurie Staton for their historical reviews of basic Ultra Facts, such as "Grand Slam" info and other epistolary nuggets they kindly shared out amongst all of us. Be glad they paid attention to your requests...they are wonderful people with busy lives of their own.

Also: The List is not a 7-11 One-Stop Info-Dump Carry-Out designed to get Newbies thru "Baby's First Ultra". It is a bulletin board. Most of the posts are superfluous and meaningless. Some are even pretty funny, intentional or not. Like it or not, they will get you a f…

KM100: As Thru The Eyes Of A Childe

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Note: Some of the original recipients made some suggestions and I felt that theUltraList in All It's Glory might benefit. Then again, maybe not. This is aFull-Spectrum Data Dump, so plan accordingly.

PROLOGUE

Yes. The title is a come-on and a cheap shill.

For this is really the story of one Andy Roth, who in the shape and form of VisionKwest Seeker "Casino Bingo", came to terms with Truth, Adventure, Manliness and Blood-Suckin' Freaks of Nature known as mosquitos. The wise man wonders why mosquitos don't pick on large and immobile pumpkins or zucchinis. That will be answered later.

THE STANDARD NARRATIVE

The Normal Ultra-Narrative commences here with the following incantations:

When I arrived at [race] I met [folks]. I ate the big pasta dinner at [locale]. I got up the next morning and took a good long [euphemism].

The race began. Things were looking pretty good. My splits were pretty near the [lotto numbers] I had planned. At about mile [tbd] I began to [barf/blis…

Poison Oak and You: A Public Service Announcement for the Perplexed

We all know nature is good. Walt Disney and Steven Speilberg say so. Christy Brinkley does too. They know. Especially Christy. She knows plenty about keeping warm in a snow-cave.

But now it's coming on to spring, and then summer. Amidst all the pretty flowers, there's our friend Mr & Mrs Poison Oak. Say Hi! to them. They like us, and you in particular. Now, if by chance, you r-u-b-b-e-d any of those shiny leaves on any part of your young bum, it's OK. Really. Here's what we do.

1) Sit back and wait. It's Nature's Way.

2) When the Itchy Monsters come, go ask Mom for several things. Ask Mom if she has any Clorox or a wire brush. Dad may have to get that from his work-bench. Then ask her for a can of lighter fluid and a big box of kitchen matches. She'll have them, because *Moms Know*.

3) Splash on the Clorox, and go to town. Then everywhere it itches, even a wee little bit, just get Mr Wire-Brush to do his thing. He's kind of stern. Then when you've h…

A Poem About Your Nipples...And Mine!

Am I alone in the raw nipple zone?
For most runs over 2 hours in the pouring rain,
With ground all wet and muddy,
I begin to experience tactile pain,
With hair-shirts turning bloody.

Surely many of you have experienced this exciting effect,
But I've come up with ingenious methods of cure!
Without resorting to a 7% Solution
And for mortification I will defer,
That Suffering is The Logical Conclusion.

The best news I could hear,
Is that my nips will cease to be affected.
I'll not slap the Bag Balm, nor apply the duct tape,
For my Path Has Now been Selected.
I'll straighten my Turban, and declaim: "Beulah, peel me a grape!"

--Indolent in Hollywood, Lady Gee-Spot

J-Tree Lost Weekend Millenial VisionKwest 2.0

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J-Tree Lost Weekend Millenial VisionKwest 2.0

"You Want It Bad, You Get it Bad.
The Worse You Want It the Worse You get it."
Sri Mahand IsFast.


As was forecast by 'Casino Bingo' and 'Draw Poker', It Came To Be [r][tm].

This weekend's "J-Tree Millenial VisionKwest" at the Joshua Tree Nat Monument exceeded all boundaries of good taste and methane threshholds.Witness the following from a recovered- memory diary:

>Hi Everybody!
>Woke up real early, went to work, drank coffee,
>talked on phone, went to office burfday partee, then
>got in the car and drove 4 hours out to Joshua Tree. Woke up and
>filled my bottles and traded split info with all the other
>CRS JoggerDaddies I saw out there, including Bucky Kibble III,
>We started to run on the Poontang Trail but soon got lost etc etc.

He missed the boat. Sad to say, this diarist took a wrong turn, and ran in slow circles around the Big Casino off I-10. This is the same I-10 that passes near Tun…