I'm a marathoner... yeah, thats right.

South Africa is in the middle of a drought right now.
Its been going on for about a year now, and Johann said that if some serious rain doesnt fall soon, many of the animals on the reserve are going to die come August.

This weekend, in an attempt to do my part in conserving water during this very dry season, I drank a serious amount of beer.

Dennis wanted to run in the Cabbage Walk, and we wanted to go cheer him on, help out, and maybe, just a little, take part in the HUGE "i just ran a freakin marathon" celebration party. Everyone gets a cabbage too.

We all packed in the back of Johanns pick up truck and drove in some direction, to someplace, somewhere. Not knowing where i was going was mainly based on the fact that i was lying down in the back of his pick up only seeing the tops of the trees and the white clouds. Not the most comfortable roadtrip as we drove along weaving down bumpy south african roads with nothing to rest your head on but a 5 pack of windhoek (the sixth was in my hand). Just a small discomfort in the name of another small adventure.

We pulled into what was once a wide open field, but was now covered with pick ups, bbqs, and people with retardedly short shorts and shirts with numbers pinned to them. I thought of Wyman, my little runner. Wasssup GIRL?

(and then sculled my beer and lit a smoke)

Marathons are tough.

Dennis was prepping and Kim, who was motivated to do more then just drink all day/night( god bless her), decided to take part in the walk, too. Just Jo, Neil, Tim and I now. Its on.

3pm Shotgun popped and the walk starts.

We wandered around for 20 minutes or so and then decided to find our friend Craig who was at the half way mark. Unfortunately, the only way to get to the half way mark, is the same way the runners take. No big deal. Gulp Gulp. Puff Puff.

Also unfortunate, was me losing at my own game, as i got only one runner to take a beer, and Neil, got two. No one wanted a ride, either.




Marathons are tough.

We found Craig, bags of H20, and a new game. For every runner you get to take a bag of water you get a point, and for every beer 5 pts. (I didnt auction off my beers though, and will never, no matter what game we are playing)

I did well with the water though, as my points mainly came from panting male runners. "This water wants you bad," worked pretty well. So did, "Drop that water now, its poison, this one is the purest" and "Drink my water and save the whales".

I got a mixed bag of responses when I accidentally blurted out, "Take this water or my mother will BEAT ME!" Most of them ran faster. However, I did not pass go, and Mother, please be gentle.

Neil, once again, sneaks in for the win as he managed to get the passing ambulance driver to take one of his beers. Phenomenal.

After the race, we drank more beers, and when the sun went down the crazy came out and so did the disco ball, dance music, and vodka.





We danced for hours. I ate a hotdog and taught Kim how to kickflip the support beam.

Neil passed out in the bucket.....





and didnt wake up until morning... I have pictures.

We headed back the next mornign in the drizzle. SHOTGUN FRONT SEAT.

Marathons are tough.
Fo' Rizzle.