Marathon Maniac…

Many thanks to my former client Queen of Squats for sending me the following highly inspirational story/link…Hopefully you’ll take a few minutes to read about a man’s journey of running 7 marathons in 7 days on 7 different continents…yes, you just read that fucking correctly…how is that possible logistically, you might think…well, it is apparently…and guess what..??  He won them all…with ease…

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/dc-sports-bog/wp/2017/01/30/it-made-me-question-my-sanity-every-day-michael-wardian-sets-record-in-seven-marathon-challenge/?utm_term=.6d653b7c01ae

To start, obviously, his outfit is an issue with me…come on loser, you’re making this way too easy…the tank-top, the short shorts, the goofy hat, the knee-high socks (although I don’t think they’re socks, but some sort of calf compression gear that’s all the rave right now..), the multi-colored sneakers (which are actually okay in my book..)…looks like this guy weighs about 105 lbs soaking wet…just about what I expected after reading about what he did…

My initial reaction after deciding to write some sort of post about this dude was to go off about the fact that he considered this a ‘fun’ experience…I had a few examples of what I considered fun, such as hitting a golf ball pure directly at your target…attending a concert of your favorite band and they sound just as good or better than what you’ve listened to all your life…have 3 Aces show up on the base line of a video poker machine followed by the ‘multiplier’ starting to buzz, etc…I probably would’ve thrown in a few more and went into more detail than above before re-reading the article and disappointingly found at no point did skinny-ass mention the 7-continent experience as being ‘fun’…what a shame…I did find something to relate to though…bear with me a bit as I lead you up to it…

I’m pretty sure all of you who read this know that I wrestled a vast part of my childhood through high school.  Love the sport, but let me tell you, it’s not fun, not even fucking close…soccer was fun to play, wrestling definitely wasn’t…There are a multitude of reasons for this…The one I’ll focus on is the ‘weight cutting’ involved in it…this is no secret that wrestlers lose vast amounts of weight to wrestle in a lower weight class than they actually weigh…in most cases, a much lower weight class…I won’t bore you with why this takes place…The fact is it sucks and it totally consumes your life…all you think about is how much ‘over’ you are (how many pounds over the weight you need to weigh..), how many pounds that half a piece of chicken, 21 green beans, tablespoon of mashed potatoes and 6oz of water you had for dinner just put on you, how you can’t wait to go to the bathroom to lose any amount of weight possible (it’s true..)…when you wake up in the morning, you can give a shit about the Trigonometry test you have that day or how your girlfriend is…all you’re worried about is how much ‘over’ you are (being ‘under’ is unheard of, unless it’s a few hours before weigh-ins..)…yes, it’s a sickness, no doubt…all wrestlers who cut significant amounts of weight know about all these feelings, plus a thousand more…Add to the fact you feel ‘sucked out’ 24 hours a day (even when you’re sleeping) and you have it all…Oh, sorry, let me define — ‘sucked out’ refers to basically having no energy all the time, you look (face pale and drawn-in) and feel like total shit, your legs get fatigued just walking up 2 flights of stairs, you’re fucking tired and irritable…get the picture…oh, you also have to look forward to putting on multiple sweatshirts to make your way down to an over-heated wrestling room tucked in the furthest depths of hell/your high school to practice with/sweat all over other teammates with the same wardrobe multiple times a week with zero energy…God, doesn’t all this sound like fucking fun…??

But you know what, there is light at the end of the tunnel and something to look forward to…EATING…yes, the basic human function, EATING…and of course, drinking something with flavor and sugar other than water..(I actually remember craving the most unappealing beverages ever…like diet ginger ale, diet lemon-lime Rite soda, cranberry juice…in other words, shit I would never fathom to drink otherwise).  Back in my high school days, we wrestled every Wednesday and Saturday evening…one match against one other team…(don’t even get me started about the ridiculousness of what high school wrestling has become these days…at least here in Virginia)…win or lose, all wrestlers knew what was coming later those evenings…a complete gorge-fest…granted, you ate and drank after you weighed in, but not that much, as you did have to wrestle another ‘sucked out’ human being in a few hours…I specifically remember Wednesday evenings as we (the team) usually didn’t go out after the meet as we did have school the next day…I went home with my parents, talked about my match briefly, and most importantly, ate my face off…Mom and Dad were always very gracious and offered to buy me/cook anything my little heart desired as they saw first-hand how miserable their son was most of the time during the season…sorry Mom and Dad, I apologize for being a complete dick…They would usually offer me my favorites — meatball sub with cheese, pizza, cheese calzones, vanilla milkshakes, burgers, fries, pasta, whatever, you name it…Although all those sound scrumptious (it really is a word..), I always craved something else…I would say, ‘you know what Mom, if you and Dad want to order a meatball sub and a large extra-cheese pizza from Antonio’s, that sounds great.  But I’m totally craving a grilled market garden salad with light balsamic vinaigrette dressing on the side with extra cucumbers and radishes…and make sure you have them slice some small onion pieces in it as I know I won’t taste them…they’re only in there to add flavor (at least one person is laughing now..)…Man, I would devour those salads like there’s no tomorrow…I couldn’t get enough of them…sometimes I would even ask for an additional side salad with oil and vinegar dressing with cherry stone tomatoes sprinkled in as well…talk about living on the edge…I knew I’d be totally ‘over’ the next morning, but those fucking salads certainly hit the spot and I went to bed happy and fulfilled…only to wake up the next morning feeling fat and ‘over’weight…and thus, the psychotic and dismalness started all over again for a few days….

YUMMY…(for those of you unfamiliar with what a salad looks like…)

Now, if you didn’t read the article above about the running man, you have no fucking idea about what I just wrote…and why it should’ve been somewhat funny…shame on you…

3 thoughts on “Marathon Maniac…

  1. I loved my wrestling days! My diet was a lot more different then yours and definitely less complex in mind as yours. Your weight management system really sucked!

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