Monday, May 27, 2013

Sticky disposition

Or, so much pain, so little paper
As the sun set on Saturday and the battered remnants of the runners made their painful way down the kilometer or so of road they had set out on some 2 hours earlier either on foot in the case of the long runners, or on the back of a pick up,  the question on everyone's lips was...why?
Why, with a party in prospect, had the hare (or hares if we are to spread the blame to include the hapless Gary who looked as shocked as anyone else) sent the long runners off on a (conservatively) 12-kilometer slog? Why was the short run almost 7 kilometers and why weren't they warned? Why was there no beer stop or at least some water as we embarked on the second half of the run after sliding down the hill to where the grinning hare awaited us at the Chinese temple. Why did we get to Napong Village via Rong Rien Don Kiilek when the two are more or less 180 degrees apart from where we crossed the road at the half way point? And why, with the light failing and the paper reduced to a few scattered shards, did we descend from the hill above the run site via a rock strewn cliff face instead of just taking the nicely manicured track down to exactly the same point that we eventually came out at?
But at the end of the run, after a consoling beer or two, most people seemed to have enjoyed the experience in rather the same way that people recall with glowing fondness Kii Hua's A-B run or Rotten Johnny's midsummer monster. We are, when all is said and done, quite mad!
So Sticky has successfully completed his 5th cycle and marked the occasion in a manner that only he could get away with, by setting a run which broke most of the loosely observed rules, the bulk of which he has been responsible for laying down, then throwing an excellent  party at which the food was copious and the beer free-flowing and at which we were entertained by Gary's  singing and guitar playing until a broken G-string brought his performance to an untimely end. He chose his songs well to pay tribute to his long-time buddy, Old Man, and Sympathy for the Devil among them. Perhaps under the circumstances he should have added, It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding!

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