tragabigzanda wrote:You know your own body better than I do, so I'm convinced Lyft is the way to go.
Doug's absolutely revolting jpg may or may not have swayed me here.
I've already taken preemptive Imodium just in case.
Oh no! Now you’ll be backed up and the extra weight will slow you down!
Honestly, with my leg injury, I'm just hoping to run the whole thing. I'm not focused on winning or even PRing.
Also, this course notoriously sucks. It's overpacked and full of puddles and potholes and all these stupid turns. I hate this race.
I signed up for it because I need to run 9 races this year to pre-qualify for the NYC marathon next year. And I was gonna skip this one altogether but my wife wanted to run it. So, fine, I signed up to run with her. And wouldn't you know, she decided to go home to Kansas for the weekend and now I'm stuck running this shitty disaster of a race by myself!
tragabigzanda wrote:You know your own body better than I do, so I'm convinced Lyft is the way to go.
Doug's absolutely revolting jpg may or may not have swayed me here.
I've already taken preemptive Imodium just in case.
Oh no! Now you’ll be backed up and the extra weight will slow you down!
Honestly, with my leg injury, I'm just hoping to run the whole thing. I'm not focused on winning or even PRing.
Also, this course notoriously sucks. It's overpacked and full of puddles and potholes and all these stupid turns. I hate this race.
I signed up for it because I need to run 9 races this year to pre-qualify for the NYC marathon next year. And I was gonna skip this one altogether but my wife wanted to run it. So, fine, I signed up to run with her. And wouldn't you know, she decided to go home to Kansas for the weekend and now I'm stuck running this shitty disaster of a race by myself!
tragabigzanda wrote:You know your own body better than I do, so I'm convinced Lyft is the way to go.
Doug's absolutely revolting jpg may or may not have swayed me here.
I've already taken preemptive Imodium just in case.
Oh no! Now you’ll be backed up and the extra weight will slow you down!
Honestly, with my leg injury, I'm just hoping to run the whole thing. I'm not focused on winning or even PRing.
Also, this course notoriously sucks. It's overpacked and full of puddles and potholes and all these stupid turns. I hate this race.
I signed up for it because I need to run 9 races this year to pre-qualify for the NYC marathon next year. And I was gonna skip this one altogether but my wife wanted to run it. So, fine, I signed up to run with her. And wouldn't you know, she decided to go home to Kansas for the weekend and now I'm stuck running this shitty disaster of a race by myself!
Hopefully not too shitty.
your fingers to god's... I don't know eyes? brain? Fuck!
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 7:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 7:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.
There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.
There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.
There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.
There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.
O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Tue January 13, 2026 7:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
All posts by this account, even those referencing real things, are entirely fictional and are for entertainment purposes only; i.e. very low-quality entertainment. These may contain coarse language and due to their content should not be viewed by anyone
