Born To Run Ultras: Notes From The Blue Loop
Obligatory Running Bullshit: News, Weather and SportsWeather was perfect for running, but harsh for all the hippies in their shorts and Luna sandals, who were shivering in the cold and damp of Thursday night rain. Friday, Saturday and Sunday were brisk, sunny and breezy—a far cry from the scorching heat of the past two years.
The 2015 BTR Ultras featured two new events that bracketed the extremes in human potential:
- The 0.0 Non-Run, and the 200-mile event. Over 60 people paid $40 to do nothing, noon Saturday. Laugh all you want, that paid for additional shitters for everybody.
- The 200 field of 17 kicked off on Thursday night, as they fled a volley from the shotgun I fired into terrified air.
- 2012 Born To Run 50k Report: All Lies, Embroidery and Horseshit
- 2013: Born To Run Fireball Suite
- 2014: Born To Run
Oncoming Clown CarsWe hit the Pink and Yellow loops. On Saturday afternoon we hit the Blue Loop with the First Annual BTR No-Talent Show, where it all went off the rails. I was empaneled with fellow judges Todd "Hebrew Hammer" Kaplan, and Greg "What Are The Odds?" Lowe, by Ms Crista Scott, MC.
We judged a veritable flea-circus of acts ranging from still-life tableaus to ensemble pieces featuring impassioned singing about licking in all the usual places, accompanied by gymnastic choreography. The Applause Meter was an increasingly warm and sweaty Tecate beer can, with the numbers appearing on the back of an indifferent Jack Daniels Extended Family bottle on wheels. Hey, if its on the table, it gets used. Grand Prize was a hefty Solar Shower, that went to a good home.
- PBR, America's Favorite Yeast Infection was trending upwards, while Fireball had declined noticeably.
- Course maps, Garmin, Strava and GPS data was mysteriously absent
- There was a higher proportion of Texas Tornadoes in the pre-dawn music mix
- Saturday morning began at 0430 with multiple shotgun blasts, presumably to wake up the hungover soreheads at Dirtbag Runner World.
Finally, I'd like to thank GOD, Dr Sevende Sandia [obscure Mexican Mystic], my Pilates coach, and all my support groups in the 310 area code.
Namaste, And Shit®™.