Mr Trail Safety Speaks!

Things are not, as they seem... Social Endorphine, or, The Lament of the Injured Influencer Here I lie, on my Instagram bed Tell me, Social Endorphine, when you liking me again Oh, and I don’t think I can’t post long Oh, you see, I’m not that strong The scream of the Whambulance is sounding in my ears Come on now, Social Endorphine, how long have I been lying here? What am I doing in this place? Why does the emoji have no face? Oh, I can't crawl across the floor Can't you see, Social Endorphine, I'm just trying to score Well, it just goes to show, things are not what they seem Please, Social Endorphine, turn my dropped logs into schemes Oh, can't you see my stats, fading fast Yeah, and that this bot will be my last? Come on Ah, yeah Please, please, Cousin PayPal, lay your cool, cool hand on my head Come on now, Social Endorphine, you better make up my bed 'Cause you know, and I know in the morning I'll zeros and ones, And you can sit around, and you can watch As...

Here’s my WR Kit. “Think what I’ve done for the sport…” I'm closing in on 5,000 miles. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. So much so that I need a FAST BOOST! Technology, narcissism and a credit card are gonna give it ALL to me. #StayHardly* This mystery is tailor-made for the Hardly Boys. And their sidekick Nancy "Drew The Short Straw." But all is about to change. She's fed up with being an apostrophe in a a high-asterisk occupation. The Hardly Boys just don't see her for what she is. She's not getting any. Frank Hardly has several drinks too many one night. "So, uh, Nancy, you like to play Tag, right? Well, how about tag... TEAM??" <crickets> Nancy stubs out her Lucky. She looks at Frank. ”You think I was bone yesterday?” ”You mean ‘born’, right?” ”No shit, Sherlock. I said BONE. Draw your own conclusions” Frank's eyes glaze over when he sees the Cuban fishnets. He wants to call his brother Joe Hardly, but knows he's at the weekly Rick Astley VR Zoom...

When folk had laughed at my foolish biz, My hashtagged life of toil it is, Different folkes diversely said, To corporate masters you must give headde. Because I am strongge of Insta’s craft, I built myself a stout big raft, With mightye pictures in my postes, That were mocked by fools as shallow boastes. For follows large I pined for longly, Bengal troll farmes replied Me strongly! Ten thousande likes sprung from that spring raine, Silver left my purse with muche greate paine. If you knoweth History then You’d Understandde, The fearsome logge I holde in my handde, Forget that Once Was I when I got Chickked Remember what I’ve done for Sportte, and Shitte. --- And thus concludes today's reading. For an elder prose version, read this .

Candice Burt is building Destination Trail as an elite brand, positioning herself as the lifestyle avatar of that identity. In April 2021, she swore off Facebook and Twitter, because “she didn’t want to be on the menu.” I think she cited the male gaze on this. A month later she reversed course, and now Facebook, Insta and Twitter were her, all the time. Its A Material World The media landscape has been transformed. What were once vices are now habits. Insta and TikTok enable a performative intimacy that might not have happened earlier.
 We’ve seen this before. House Kardashian: where Kim transitioned from Paris Hilton’s Closet-Keeper to a freestanding multi-billion dollar brand family. These ranked charts show where Candice Burt & Destination Trail figure in the landscape. CB/DT has a stronger Insta presence, and short-memory visuals drive impulse buying.  Weird Science. Obviously Kim K will probably never run an ultra, but she’s here to show top-end. Other notable ultra-entit...

Mere moments before I did my first ultra, Sept 1989. I was at a wedding several summers back and a handsome young dude asked me "don't you ever wish you were young and beautiful like me?" I looked at him, thinking, "...sure." But I answered him "Billy, play your cards right, and you can be old and ugly like me." This wasn't the answer he expected.  But I deal in the unexpected. Have a seat. Oh very young, what will you leave us this time? I see your fresh faces thundering down the trail in your most Recent Race Shirt. You're young and enthusiastic. It's springtime, and Ultras are magical. Your Luck Bag is full, and your Injury Bag is empty.  As it should be. In time, typically about five seasons, you'll look around and suddenly wonder "who the fuck are all these new people?" They'll be wearing their own styles, carrying gear that is different from yours, and probably look at your flat-brimmed trucker ...

The Jessica Simpson Flagon Of Forgetfulness Awaits Here's a sweet rhetorical question for you: "Are Ultrarunners A Family?" I'll be the Ancient Voice Of The Dead here and say that "no, ultrarunners are not family". Any more than pistol-enthusiasts, RV'ers, quilters, or MTB'ers. These are ALL associations. An association is a group of similarly-minded and focused interest group. You are born into, or marry into, a family—that's it. Families are composed of people you didn't choose. Finally—the humble runner, is invisible. Does not go out of their way to honk on about being inspirational or set an example. They simply do. Its insanely hard. Sure, if they help somebody, its a natural action. They aren't posing for their Instagram, tweeting their virtue, updating their Faceblurt, and so on. So when you meet some duck in shorts and they're going on about their good works, they're an egotistical horse's ass. Because its all...