Costumes, continued: Long vs. Short Pants

Of course, long pants protect us more but are by and large boring and hot. The main advantage to short pants is the art work on your legs at the end of your time. Scratches, gashes, blood, bumps, mud and extraneous bike grease patterns bring Jackson Pollack to mind. A private sweetness for me is the dowsing of the tenderized flesh with good old isopropyl. As I squeal with seizing waves, the exquisite blooms paint the inside of my skull. Maybe it's adrenaline, I do not know, but is is not for the faint of heart.
However, my top short pants dilemma came not as a racer but as a volunteer for Stephanie Ross's Sheltowee Extreme '09 36-hour traverse of at least nine southern states. Stephanie was very conscientious with the volunteers, trying to keep us moving to different venues with sleep time, tents and the like. Partner Bob and I had several jobs and settings, but one was beechside for a semi-manned checkpoint. Even in the middle of the night, I took my job seriously and wanted to be on hand in case someone's arms and legs were falling off or they had a harpoon puncture. Turns out my personal naked legs were harpooned by M.F.ing seed ticks, approximately 4000 times. They apparently crawled up my relatively motionless legs and had a feast fit for royalty. Seed ticks, nearly microscopic, kept me itching with a wire brush for a week or more, way beyond the drawing of blood, to the point of visiting a clinic for a distemper shot laced with sleepwishes. I was forced to not work for fear of hammering my own hands or someone else's window panes. I took pink pills. I used 25 year old athletes foot cream which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake. My skin actually did reach flashpoint and burned off what little clothing I could wear. I then chose more conventional salves and cold showers. Katy's description of my lower half (waist to toes) did involve the use of the word "hideous" which, somehow, did not get me all sexed up.
A few weeks later, having caught up on sleep, to some degree, I did a TOPO adventure race at East Fork Lake in southwestern Ohio, where a nurse happened to be womanning one of the checkpoints. After a few questions I felt fairly reassured that I did not have Lyme disease, but over 6 months later, I still had enough bite scars to be able to identify all of the constellations in the Southern Hemisphere.
My conclusion about volunteering is that one needs to keep moving. This year I will help Stephanie during her 48 hour Sheltowee Extreme wearing four hazmat suits individually duct-taped at ankles, wrists and face, and when not actually doing something important I will run in place. I have already started my endurance training so that I can stay in constant motion for at least 48 hours.
To conclude, I would like to say, "Watch your panties!"

Yours,

The One Who Strives for Mediocrity