Thursday, October 2, 2008

Forest Run Forest

Mrs. BB and I ran the 10K last weekend, part of the Oslo Marathon.

I would never consider running a full marathon. I am too slow. I do most things slowly: running, swimming, walking, blogging, love making... Thank goodness I am a marathon partier and a quick thinker.

The 10K is well suited for bon viveurs, alcoholics, drugs users and smokers, so I was amongst friends.

Mrs. BB ran with some work colleagues. She is very sporty and pretty much sprinted the distance. She wore a new running belt with six small water flasks attached around it. She looked like a suicide blond jogger. Whoa!

Inspired by Lance Armstrong’s meticulous preparations for the Tour De France, I prepared a glutinous carbohydrate meal the night before to ensure we had massive reserves of energy on tap for the run.

A creamy Smoked Arctic Char Risotto aside a 96 Fume Blanc (acquired from Le Petite Ferm in Franschhoek on a past visit), followed by Spaghetti Carbonara with crisply seared smoked pancetta, sautéed caramelised garden onions and shaved Reggiano companioned with a 98 Sassicaia (Tuscany last year), and completed with a crunchy Mela Torta with fresh berries and cream assisted by a 99 D’Yquem (tour of the Chateau in 04).

A restless sleep ensued. I awoke in the middle of the night with weighty matters on my mind. I poured a glass of wine and lit a Marly Light to contemplate issues further. Shall I wear my blue running top or red?... hmmm... Don’t forget to get the winter tires on car changed next week!... uhhhm... I really hope the US government sorts this bank bailout stuff... mhhhm.

The sun shone brilliantly from rise. After 2 double espressos, it felt great to be alive. Well good anyway. We made our way to the Start Line. I was well prepared. I had my game face on, I would run my own race, play my own game, aim high and draw the bowstring hard, take all of the chances offered.

At 5K, my belly was grumbling, loudly. The glutinous carbohydrates were seeking an exit strategy. The espressos were threatening a fecal evacuation.

I caught sight of a small forest in the distance... grumble, grumble. Panic set in and my mind was racing wildly for solutions to the impending problem... forest, run... forest... grumble... I can make it... grumble... evacuate, evacuate... grumble, grumble...

I recalled that champion athletes use visualisation to overcome pain. I visualised a wine cork stuck in my bum. Not a screw cork or one of those Australian synthetic jobs, a proper cork, possibly from an 82 Margaux, or even better, a champagne cork from a bottle of vintage Veuve.

Everything went quiet. The sun warmed my face. I dug deep, deeper, and deeper. I felt better almost immediately. I was going to be alright. The terror of the moment had passed. I was in the zone again.

I sprinted the last 200 metres of the race. Everything was in slow motion. Chariots of Fire played in my head. Gorgeous blond women were smiling at me, cheering me on. Mrs BB was waving her arms in the air and shouting encouragement.

I crossed the Finish Line and kept running, directly to the ‘Portaloo’, my official finish line.

It was a medal winning finish.



christina said...

Once again - I don't comment that often (OK make that more like never, but I AM reading!) but no one makes me laugh like you do, BB.

Joanne said...

Franschoek! well I never, next time I hope to at least host you to a fabulous SA braai.

Anonymous said...

My children were overjoyed to be at the finish line when i survived the first (only) half-marathon i shall run (slog)... not so much to cheer me on, but because they got to see a man with bloody nipples. with the sweat involved, my daughter said it was as though he lactated blood.

their disappointment? no one did the wobbly-legged shit-stripe maneuver...

congratulations on a fine finish, excellent preparations and superb timing!

Johnada said...

I wonder what other athletes have used this winning strategy to get them across the finish line faster. Perhaps that Bolt guy from Jamaica uses laxatives.

Zhu said...

I can't run but I don't mind sharing the meal!

Anonymous said...

Ha, ha! Now you know the secret shared only by Olympic runners.

Speedcat Hollydale said...

Well, I used to mountain bike, but heck with that!!

Bike in garbage tomorow. I want the pain, fame, and glory of running. (ok, maybe just the cherring blonds)

Never once have I recieved praise will pedaling .... man! Thanks for the eye opener. not sure about that whole cork thang

Anonymous said...

Well done! Except for the portaloo bit. Those places are vile.

Uncle Keith said...

I only run when I'm being chased. However, my doctor told me last week that I need to drop 10-15 lbs, and cut back on soda or I'll end up diabetic.

donstuff said...

Funny stuff. I didn't run like Forrest, but I did eat dinner at Bubba Gump's tonight - does that count for anything?
Thanks for the laugh. I enjoyed the story.

Anonymous said...

you can make a good risotto? You are indeed a man amongst men, Kanukboooosch.


beaverboosh said...

christina - hey, maybe we can trade baking recipees and knitting patterns

joanne - you're on!

df - half eh, any chance of a full? tusen tusen takk!

johnada - the secret is out. Be very careful

zhu - open invite when you're in town, I'll cook French

shantanu - it's out of the bottle man

speedcat - go dude, the cork worked

azahar - too right though I didn't notice

uk - chased eh, kinky! Good luck with the doctor's advice

donstuff - wth is bubba gump's? Must serve shrimp

dolce - grew up with loads of iti's... Kanukboooosch? Really!