The Cannibal Run

I was sitting around last evening trying to come up with a topic for today’s post. Basically, as you’ve no doubt noticed by now, my posts are floating further and further away from sanity into the surreal. I’ve become unhinged. I have no race on my calendar upon which to fixate my thoughts. Idle minds are the devil’s plaything. Or is it hands? Either way, neither are doing anything particularly of note lately. My next planned race is still 5 months away!

So, what do I talk about? Then it hits me. Cannibalism, of course.

Perhaps inspired by Dean Karnazes - or other ultra marathoner’s – adventures, I’ve had this idea in mind about a sort of runner’s version of The Cannonball Run. You may remember these movies from the early 80’s starring Burt Reynolds and Dom DeLuise, two hilariously mismatched partners in the mold of Abbott & Costello. One, tall, suave, and handsome, and the other, short, round, and inept. Comedic partners. They were Corey Haim-Corey Feldman before they existed. They were Owen Wilson-Ben Stiller before they met their parents.

The Cannonball Run was a car race from one end of the country to the other departing and arriving at a specific location. In between, no rules. You could take any route. You could lie, cheat, and sabotage. As long as you got to the end point first, you win.

I’d love to see some version of that play out in the grand ole U.S.A (or grand ole C.A.N.A.D.A. as the case may be.) Except, of course, while running. There’s no time limit. You are allowed, maybe, a support team to travel in a van to carry your camping gear, nutrition supplies, change of clothes, and beer. Perhaps you can work as a team and someone from the team would have to be running at all times. You can sleep outside or stay at a hotel. Really, it’s your choice. But, you have to run every step of the way from point A to B taking a route of your choosing.

But this is just a foot version of The Cannonball Run right? What makes it different or unique? Where's "the hook"?

Using simple word association, my mind traveled from cannonball to cannibal. That’s it! You can eat your competitors. Sure, you could give them a regular Kerrigan knee whack on the way by but where’s the fun…the thrill…in that? No, contact with another competitor is not allowed unless you are going to consume them. Now the game seems much more interesting, doesn’t it?

As the old saying goes ‘the party hasn’t started until someone’s been cooked over a barbeque pit and eaten’. The race would take on a more lively – sinister – tone. You sure you want to stop and rest for awhile? You might think twice when you remember that “Crazy” Joe Smith was behind you and he was wearing a bib. And it wasn’t a race bib.

I don’t know, maybe I’ve been sniffing to much powdered Gatorade lately. I have to admit that the thought of a cannibal run seems a little out there even by my standards. If you don’t like the human consumption aspect, we can drop that and go with just the regular, bland multiple day foot race ala The Cannonball Run. There’s something weird about cannibals anyway.

Just as I was about to birth this landmark post upon the world, I thought I better do a quick google on “cannibal run” (and ensure my firing from my job once the scan of web sites visited on my office PC is reviewed.) Certainly, other folks must have come up with this innovative race idea before me. Sure enough, there already exists a Cannibal Run. It’s in Colorado. Or, as I call it, “cannibal country”. Crap, my race title has already been stolen. But it's only a 5k/10k and no one gets eaten. WTF!? Still, I’ll have to go with my clunkier alternative title The Fava Beans and Chianti 3800K.

I don’t know what Dom DeLuise ate during The Cannonball Run. There certainly couldn’t have been many fruits and veggies on that plate. He was eating something though. I’m not casting aspersions…I’m just sayin’…did anyone ever see Abe Vigoda again?

Happy trails.
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I need a race on the calendar. Quickly. Usually, I start descending into winter induced, house bound, claustrophobic madness in February. The fact that it is occurring now – over 2 weeks before the official start of winter, is not a good sign for any of us. Strap in, folks, it’s going to be a long, bumpy ride.

Thus ends my one week journey into dementia. It was a short trip. Next week, I'll attempt to turn the tide and keep things on F.M.S. quite a bit rosier. In the spirit of the holidays, all posts next week will be bursting will energy and positivism and holiday joy. I’ll leave the murkier fare of intra-family mating, snorting Gatorade, and human consumption behind. Those probably weren’t to your tastes anyways, right? (Can I get a rim shot, please?) Besides, crazed Gatorade sniffing inbred cannibals never meant “Christmas” to me anyway.
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Cold air asthma choking 5 miles. God bless Old Man Winter.

5.0 miles
35:41 time
7:08 pace

We'll do a hearty 7 this weekend.