Greetings and salutations, fine readers. With the Olympics going on, the war in the Middle East, a distressed U.S. economy and the death of Isaac Hayes (“Yeah, I’m talkin’ ’bout Shaft!”), I know what’s on your mind: How is Dartman doing in his marathon training?
Well, thanks for asking. Actually, I’m doing just peachy keen. I’ve increased the running, decreased the drinking and accepted Christ as my savior. But enough about me. Wait, this is MY blog. These posts are all about ME, ME, ME! I don’t have to be parsimonious with my words. It is my right, my entitlement, to bore and tax you with my list of complaints, achievements and endeavors. So here’s the latest rant from the running, drunken reprobate (I’m so vain, I now refer to myself in the third person. I tried referring to myself in the second person, but every time I used “you” in a sentence, the other person thought I was talking about them.)
So, I gather you’re surprised about the decrease in my alcohol intake. Don’t fret. I still enjoy my cocktails, but I’ve found new and exciting ways to abuse my body: 1) Painful and dangerous piercings (I just got an earring put in my frontal lobe), and 2) Having the unhealthiest diet possible. Because of the former, please forgive me if I ramble; my memory isn’t so good since my cerebral cortex was punctured.
Anyway, most marathon runners consume complex carbohydrates, lots of protein, fruits, vegetables, etc. for energy and endurance. Smoothies, energy bars, whole grain foods…blah, blah, blah. You get the point. Most runners eat EXTREMELY healthy. But not yours truly. I don’t eat vegetables, stay away from fruit and haven’t eaten anything healthy since the third grade, when I accidentally took a vitamin, mistakenly believing it was a Quaalude. I concentrate on eating meat, fat, fried foods, desserts and humans. Did I mention that I was a cannibal? Did I mention that I ate my twin in the womb? And did I mention that I ate my entire family when my hunger got the best of me during a NY to Orlando flight that was 30 minutes behind schedule due to turbulence? Anyway, here are my basic food staples that I’ve been eating during my training
DARTMAN’S RUNNING DIET
Ice Cream
Chocolate Bars
Pepperoni Pizza
Hamburgers & Steaks
Tacos & Burritos
Potato Chips & Onion Dip
Nachos & Salsa Con Queso
Anything to do with a potato (including “Spuds” MacKenzie)
Anything to do with BBQ (including humans)
Naked Mole Rats
So, as you can see, I abuse my body in a multitude of ways, but this past Sunday, I finally paid for it. I did my long run on Sunday, and I promised myself on Saturday that I would eat healthy and abstain from alcohol. Well, I kept one of my promises: I didn’t have any beer on Saturday. Instead, I waited until the clock struck midnight, officially making it Sunday, and then I had three pints of Captain Lawrence Pale Ale. But my Waterloo was what I ate for dinner on Saturday night: I pigged out at Taco Bell.
I love the Bell. It’s by far my favorite fast food. But eating two Big Beef Burrito Supremes and a Gordita wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And it didn’t help that I ate a homeless person’s appendix (my cannibalism got the best of me). Come Sunday morning, I downed a cup of coffee (also not a wise idea), ate a bowl of cereal and a spleen (left over from the homeless person the night before) and went out for my two-hour run.
Make that my ONE-hour run. With all that Taco Bell in me, plus the coffee and those organs extracted from that inebriated hobo, and all that jostling going on in my stomach as I pounded the pavement… Well, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. Thank goodness I’m actually a good runner now, because if I hadn’t gone supersonic and sped to my house, I probably would have ended up with a Nachos Bell Grande in my pants.
But I made it. Crapping myself would have been REALLY embarrassing, especially since it would have been the fourth time that week. (After numerous co-worker complaints, I now wear adult diapers at the office.) But something good came out of all this, because I learned a valuable lesson: If you’re going to eat a homeless person, stay away from the spleen. It tastes awful. Go for the liver instead. As for eating healthy and staying away from Taco Bell, hell, I STILL haven’t learned a thing. Excuse me, but I must go. I have to do a run today and I need to have my lunch. Let’s see, I’ve got a six-pack of beer and a burrito the size of Fatty Arbuckle. Oh well, if I get the trots later, at least I’ve got my adult diaper on…
STATS FOR SUNDAY 8/11/08
RUNNING
13-14 miles
DRINKING
4 Dogfish Head India Brown Ales (48 oz.)
5 North Coast Red Seal Pale Ales (60 oz.)
SLEEPING
6 hours
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