Monday, April 16, 2007

Anorexic Baked Potatoes

Glad Sheena wasn't the only one. Though Sheena spouted off a cheeseburger analogy, that blogger from Milwaukee nailed the more accurate visual.


Sitting in the hotel lobby mid afternoon and Boston Marathon finishers come limping and dragging themselves past the wine bar. Brutal wind and rain last night into today. Gotta give it to them. Incredible fitness levels on the lot. Thin, muscled, ascetic looking. Wonder if they hate themselves more than the curvy and indulgent around them.

The more I think about this, the more I wonder why we celebrate this. The original marathon runner died upon completion of his trip. Why is this extremity somehow good and pure and virtuous? Imagine these scenarios and tell me everything is normal.

Sheena: I like this bottle of wine.
Marathoner: Me too, so I'm going to drink 26 bottles in one day.

Sheena: What a lovely tender filet.
Marathoner. Damn straight. Bring me the whole loin and a bucket of bearnaise sauce.

Sheena: I think I might pierce my navel.
Marathoner: I'm going to rivet the alphabet across my buttocks.

Dedication? Or Destructive? Commitment or should be committed? Tomato - Tomahto.

14 Comments:

At 9:49 PM, Blogger Jacques Beau Vert said...

Whoa, just how grueling is this Boston Marathon?

 
At 9:53 PM, Blogger Jacques Beau Vert said...

I just read up. Wow. I thought this was just a fun, come-on-down-and-run event.

Are we supposed to be shocked at your fun scenarios? They seem to describe your general lifestyle, no? Har dee har har!

 
At 10:12 PM, Blogger Sheena said...

Yeah, but I don't fuck up downtown traffic for a day to indulge myself.

 
At 11:35 PM, Blogger CheekierMeSly said...

No? But you'll fuck it up over two days on the weekend for a car race, eh? Trimmed and drilled, baby. Trimmed and drilled.

 
At 2:32 AM, Blogger Gorilla Bananas said...

Well if you can't climb trees, running 26 miles is good practice for the next time you get chased by a hyena.

 
At 6:38 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm sure she's kept her hyena beyond reproach.

You know , I once imagined to think that I knew what a Crazy Chick was.

. . . -

 
At 7:02 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Babe , I would fuck-up DOWNTOWN for a day, on the off-chance that you MAY, choose to indulge Yourself.

 
At 3:49 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think running marathons is just another way of competing with yourself and others. It's a real lifestyle commitment, too. Some people want that because they like all their time to be spent purposefully, pro-actively, healthfully.

 
At 11:25 PM, Blogger Sheena said...

But that is my point,sooey.

It is not purposefully, it is out there running on fucking roads ignoring work and family and friends.

It is not healthfully. These guys were moaning and could barely walk.

It was weird and kind of extremist and sick.

 
At 8:53 PM, Blogger pam said...

Sheena, they don't all finish like that. There are many types of marathoners, but because you must qualify for Boston, it's a more talented/competitive crowd. People run marathons because they are fun, and lots of runners run with family and friends. It can be a very social sport.
Of course, the coolest of the pack drink vast quantities of wine to celebrate a good race. Err, or so I hear.

 
At 12:41 AM, Blogger JJ said...

Boston! The holy grail.

I used to run Half Marathons, they're a blast. But at the end of the race if you don't feel like you're about to drop dead, you know you haven't pushed hard enough.

 
At 11:37 AM, Blogger Romantic Heretic said...

"Sheena: I like this bottle of wine.
Marathoner: Me too, so I'm going to drink 26 bottles in one day."

You know that's how Alexander the Great bought. Drank himself to death proving what a 'Great Man' he was.

Snicker.

 
At 11:39 AM, Blogger Romantic Heretic said...

Oop. Supposed to read 'how Alexander the Great bought it'. As in bought the farm.

Can't type hungover and tired.

 
At 6:02 PM, Blogger Sheena said...

I did not know that Rob. Very interesting. That would be 2 cases and 2 bottles. Sounds like something Abe Lincoln would say.

 

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