Post by wheelspinner on May 23, 2009 1:23:58 GMT -5
Found another one ...
May 2002
As has been referred to earlier, Greg in his mid-life is devoted to Doing Something Crazy. Further to this pursuit, Greg decided to participate in an Event known as the Bay to Breakers.
Greg is a Realistic Fellow and well aware of the superb state of his physical fitness. Greg is at least as physically fit as two smallish men and could possibly physically fit a small child somewhere around his midriff as well.
After doing Further Research on a map of San Francisco, Greg determined that the course ran in a constant gentle decline from the Top Right to the Middle Left. Just to be sure, Greg printed out the Course Map on a sheet of paper and observed that it was Completely Flat, albeit a bit dog-eared in one corner. Greg then concluded that he was Up For The Challenge and decided that his training should consist of irregular strolls along flat terrain, to properly simulate race conditions.
Greg's First training session was nearly his Last. Three steps down the Bike Path, a Grievous Attack of Shin Splints beset him. Showing great strength of Character he steadied, gritted his teeth, and Went Home.
Disturbed by this onset of Sanity, Greg determined that he was Letting The Side Down. He took a Good Hard Look At Himself and set himself more achievable interim goals. Greg decided that he Would Not Rest until he had completed at least five steps before Giving Up.
Following this strategy of gradual improvement, Greg gradually whittled his Personal Best for the 10 metres down to the point where a Greater Challenge could be entertained. Greg then alternated short walks with brief periods of Accelerated Staggering until he was able to complete 7.5 miles (the race length) without being Hospitalised.
Here, a miracle occurs. Greg accidentally became Fit, and was able to run non-stop for Vast Distances, sometimes up to a whole 3 miles. This was largely achieved through Musical Motivation. This is a theory where, if you listen to bad music will exercising, you will run just to get away from it. Unfortunately some music was more upbeat than Strictly Necessary, luring him into doing unwise things like Run Faster. The week prior to the race, Greg' performance peaked. He ran 6 miles in a mere 72 minutes. He was Ready!
Race Day dawned and the family headed to sunny San Francisco. Greg's younger sun was to run with him, having prepared by intensively playing many sporting games on his X-Box. The rest of the family went along as Official Observers, to ensure that Greg's Achievements were properly recorded for posterity.
Waiting at the start, Greg and his son observed about a million Californians throwing tortillas at one another. Greg had heard of this practice of Carbohydrate Loading before a big race, but always understood it to mean Something Else.
It is reasonable to infer that the Rain Gods do not like Mexican food, as they responded to the effrontery of the Tortilla Onslaught by sending down a bucketing of Biblical Proportions, the first time the race has been rained on in 25 years - impeccable timing by your correspondent.
After gradually shuffling towards the Start Line, Greg noted that he reached it 39 minutes into the race. He learned the next day that the winner crossed the finish line before then. Smarting from the injustice of an Unfair Start, Greg considered an Appeal, but decided that the Legal Fees were not worth it.
As he Started, Greg immediately learned that his son was not acquainted with this Running notion and was content to walk. On the other hand Greg, in response to the weather, was inspired to finish As Soon As Bloody Well Possible.
It quickly became clear that this is a race for Celebrities as well as mere mortals like Greg. Fred Flintstone, Darth Vader, the Andersen Consulting shredding machine and other Famous People were espied along the route. Well-prepared people who had brought their own lounge suite and were taking turns to rest in it were also noted.
Greg soon discovered that he was the victim of a Sinister Practical Joke. A part of the course known as Hayes Street proved to be Not Flat. Instead it was Vertical. Adhering to his philosophy of Craziness, Greg decided to run up it. After struggling heroically for 100 metres or so, he Saw The Light. By craftily shoving people out of the way as he walked, Greg actually ascended Hayes Street faster than he would have by Running.
Sprinting purposefully (or at least Waddling with Intent) Greg stormed into the Park feeling On Top of the World. That was before he realised there were still 3.5 miles to go. From that point he felt sort of Middle of the World.
In the park, Greg caught up with the Fallopian Swim Team, a group of avid participants dressed as Sperm. It was appropriate since, in reality, everybody was swimming by now.
Less appropriate, given the weather, was a group of four Nudists strolling through the park showing off their Naughty Bits. They seemed to be enjoying their walk far more than Greg was at that point, and were disturbingly in front of him. No doubt Greg was disadvantaged by the weight of his sodden T-shirt and shorts. Overcoming this handicap, Greg went past them and staggered onward.
As he approached the Finish Line, Greg encountered a Preacher Man, who informed Greg that he was a Sodomite and that San Francisco was a Den of Iniquity that God would soon Smite. Greg was relieved to hear that, as he lives well away, in the East Bay. Greg regretted for a moment that he had overtaken the Nudists. He was seized with a desire to see the Preacher Man's reaction when they strolled up to him.
Greg eventually finished without dying. His time should not be mentioned in Polite Company, but it was North of 90 minutes which, given the conditions, was an Absolute Disgrace.
Having conquered, Greg hobbled off to claim his Reward, the inevitable race T-shirt. It claims that he Survived the 2002 Bay to Breakers. Greg is not so sure.
May 2002
As has been referred to earlier, Greg in his mid-life is devoted to Doing Something Crazy. Further to this pursuit, Greg decided to participate in an Event known as the Bay to Breakers.
Greg is a Realistic Fellow and well aware of the superb state of his physical fitness. Greg is at least as physically fit as two smallish men and could possibly physically fit a small child somewhere around his midriff as well.
After doing Further Research on a map of San Francisco, Greg determined that the course ran in a constant gentle decline from the Top Right to the Middle Left. Just to be sure, Greg printed out the Course Map on a sheet of paper and observed that it was Completely Flat, albeit a bit dog-eared in one corner. Greg then concluded that he was Up For The Challenge and decided that his training should consist of irregular strolls along flat terrain, to properly simulate race conditions.
Greg's First training session was nearly his Last. Three steps down the Bike Path, a Grievous Attack of Shin Splints beset him. Showing great strength of Character he steadied, gritted his teeth, and Went Home.
Disturbed by this onset of Sanity, Greg determined that he was Letting The Side Down. He took a Good Hard Look At Himself and set himself more achievable interim goals. Greg decided that he Would Not Rest until he had completed at least five steps before Giving Up.
Following this strategy of gradual improvement, Greg gradually whittled his Personal Best for the 10 metres down to the point where a Greater Challenge could be entertained. Greg then alternated short walks with brief periods of Accelerated Staggering until he was able to complete 7.5 miles (the race length) without being Hospitalised.
Here, a miracle occurs. Greg accidentally became Fit, and was able to run non-stop for Vast Distances, sometimes up to a whole 3 miles. This was largely achieved through Musical Motivation. This is a theory where, if you listen to bad music will exercising, you will run just to get away from it. Unfortunately some music was more upbeat than Strictly Necessary, luring him into doing unwise things like Run Faster. The week prior to the race, Greg' performance peaked. He ran 6 miles in a mere 72 minutes. He was Ready!
Race Day dawned and the family headed to sunny San Francisco. Greg's younger sun was to run with him, having prepared by intensively playing many sporting games on his X-Box. The rest of the family went along as Official Observers, to ensure that Greg's Achievements were properly recorded for posterity.
Waiting at the start, Greg and his son observed about a million Californians throwing tortillas at one another. Greg had heard of this practice of Carbohydrate Loading before a big race, but always understood it to mean Something Else.
It is reasonable to infer that the Rain Gods do not like Mexican food, as they responded to the effrontery of the Tortilla Onslaught by sending down a bucketing of Biblical Proportions, the first time the race has been rained on in 25 years - impeccable timing by your correspondent.
After gradually shuffling towards the Start Line, Greg noted that he reached it 39 minutes into the race. He learned the next day that the winner crossed the finish line before then. Smarting from the injustice of an Unfair Start, Greg considered an Appeal, but decided that the Legal Fees were not worth it.
As he Started, Greg immediately learned that his son was not acquainted with this Running notion and was content to walk. On the other hand Greg, in response to the weather, was inspired to finish As Soon As Bloody Well Possible.
It quickly became clear that this is a race for Celebrities as well as mere mortals like Greg. Fred Flintstone, Darth Vader, the Andersen Consulting shredding machine and other Famous People were espied along the route. Well-prepared people who had brought their own lounge suite and were taking turns to rest in it were also noted.
Greg soon discovered that he was the victim of a Sinister Practical Joke. A part of the course known as Hayes Street proved to be Not Flat. Instead it was Vertical. Adhering to his philosophy of Craziness, Greg decided to run up it. After struggling heroically for 100 metres or so, he Saw The Light. By craftily shoving people out of the way as he walked, Greg actually ascended Hayes Street faster than he would have by Running.
Sprinting purposefully (or at least Waddling with Intent) Greg stormed into the Park feeling On Top of the World. That was before he realised there were still 3.5 miles to go. From that point he felt sort of Middle of the World.
In the park, Greg caught up with the Fallopian Swim Team, a group of avid participants dressed as Sperm. It was appropriate since, in reality, everybody was swimming by now.
Less appropriate, given the weather, was a group of four Nudists strolling through the park showing off their Naughty Bits. They seemed to be enjoying their walk far more than Greg was at that point, and were disturbingly in front of him. No doubt Greg was disadvantaged by the weight of his sodden T-shirt and shorts. Overcoming this handicap, Greg went past them and staggered onward.
As he approached the Finish Line, Greg encountered a Preacher Man, who informed Greg that he was a Sodomite and that San Francisco was a Den of Iniquity that God would soon Smite. Greg was relieved to hear that, as he lives well away, in the East Bay. Greg regretted for a moment that he had overtaken the Nudists. He was seized with a desire to see the Preacher Man's reaction when they strolled up to him.
Greg eventually finished without dying. His time should not be mentioned in Polite Company, but it was North of 90 minutes which, given the conditions, was an Absolute Disgrace.
Having conquered, Greg hobbled off to claim his Reward, the inevitable race T-shirt. It claims that he Survived the 2002 Bay to Breakers. Greg is not so sure.