Ultramarathon – The Harvard Lampoon

Ice Cold Water #

| Issue Editor: JEY '15 | Art Editor: PHM '15

Ultramarathon

  HSB '17

0 miles. I mount a NordicTrac treadmill and dial in my run: 100 miles, inclines up to 80 degrees, no warm up. The Glendale 24 Hour Fitness 100 is the most mind expanding workout a human can do in air conditioning. Some like this gym because of the camaraderie. I like it because it’s a clean, safe place to become one with infinity.

10 miles. I spent my whole life preparing for this journey, but I’m starting to think I should have stretched. I quiver when I think about the little green LED mountain ahead.

20 miles. I’ve increased my pace, but can’t seem to lose the two elderly women walking beside me. They must be gatekeepers to the spirit realm. For several miles I’ve puzzled over their riddle: Who does he think he is, and why does she still put up with him?

40 miles. Things are getting strange. There’s a water cooler where the holy mountain should be.

60 miles. A female spirit cooes in my ear tempting me “to change the channel.” I scream that she isn’t real. She threatens to summon the demon security.

62 miles. Security has the body of a pig and the face of an angry pig. He tries to lure me into talking to him for a minute. I think it over and then spit blood in his face. He admits that he doesn’t have the legal authority to remove me. Of course he doesn’t. I am everyone and I am no one.

95 miles. Far above, a divine voice whispers, “Now closing for bi monthly cleaning.” The voice gets closer. His hand hovers over my Emergency Stop. I beg that He grant me a Nordic Cool Down©, but collapse from the effort. For a split second as He leans down, His white 24 Hour Fitness robe billowing, I make out His form. He is my shepherd. He is my salvation. He has triceps like you wouldn’t believe.