Which is fortunate because after this year’s running of the SSCXWC, I maybe have about five to spare.
So as you might can guess, a partial (and mulleted) cloud of evil descended on the City By The Bay and not a drop of alcohol, or brain cell was spared. It’s probably a good thing that this event doesn’t happen more than once a year, because there’s no way my body could take it.
Mud and blood and one hour of pure, unadulterated suffering was what this year’s race offered up, and we drank every last bit that we could physically afford. Plus whatever happened to come out of Loudass’ mouth.