Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Coming In Number Two

Sorry, runners- this negates whatever bragging rights you get for doing 26 miles. The Chicago Marathon was this past weekend (yes, a Kenyan dude won again) and I've had friends run it, but this year was the first I had heard about runners who succumb to the green apple splatters along the route. Long-distance runners are a cultish bunch who buy into the whole "pushing yourself mentally and physically" thing, and it is an impressive feat. But I don't see any spiritual transcendence or triumph of the will going on here. What other sport accepts loss of bodily functions as a given? Lance Armstrong doesn't pinch one off while he rolls up to the Champs-Elysees. Derek Anderson doesn't take the Browns to the Super Bowl while waiting for the snap (the only time you'll see "Browns" and "Super Bowl" in the same sentence, I might add.) If Jordan had dropped a deuce at center court of a Bulls playoff game, he would have been sent to a psychiatrist, not handed a cup of Gatorade. Then again, it looks like a cup would have come in handy for this guy.

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