This page is devoted to the first annual Mount Si Race and assorted attendant information and pictures (Click Here To Get 'EM !!!) associated with the race and the preparation and strategies of the race participants, hoopla, onlookers, cheerleaders and also memorable quotes concerning this gala event.
Let me describe my worthy competitor in the first annual Mount Si Race, Taylor. He is a behemoth with a tiny waist. He chases down quarterbacks and running backs and smashes them. He works out several hours per day. He is a very big and very scary guy, especially when you are looking up into his nose and snot bubbles are bursting and splattering as he snorts and paws the earth and you notice that the veins in the whites of his eyes, clearly visible all around his eyeballs, look a lot like detailed interstate road maps. Pennsylvania. Except the turnpike shouldn't take that ugly hook off to the left like that.
I guess getting the occasional evil eye from individuals like Taylor is one of the prices you (I mean "I") have to pay for possessing that silly little bent chromosome. Oh well.
Early on in this process I began to think that I might have written a check that my body could not cash, so to speak. It is with no little sense of relief that I report continued solvency.
Interviews with spectators and race analysis:
What Dauna thought of the race
What Rosemary thought about it
An Anonymous Comment
The Race (Larry's view)
A Final Comment From Taylor
The Outcome :
Larry: 1:55:10 First Place
Taylor: 2:04:20 Second Place
That is it till next year. I believe that I got Taylor's attention at last. He seems motivated. It might have something to do with a little "heart-to-heart" between the contestants after the race in which one said to the other, in the time honored tradition of spirited and sportsmanlike competitiveness :
"My boy, you did a fine job. I'm impressed. However you did forgot one little thing. Whenever you go out pi**ing with the big dog ya gotta be absolutely sure to tank up before you leave the house."
The look in his bulging eye was priceless, but I detected a certain urgency that, in hindsight, might better have been left sleeping. Taylor will be twenty next year and I will be ... let's say ... older. It is a time honored battle whose outcome is, ultimately, certain. The young wolf eventually brings down the old one.
But hey Taylor, listen up:
NOT ... THIS ... YEAR.
;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-) ;-)
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