Marathon Day: Public Defacation Special

Ah, Marathon Day. Once a year the Muffin invites only the most elite Beer drinking athletes to one of the finest alcoholic events of the year. Second only to Good Friday, Bad Saturday, while any camping trip involving a Yucca jar has potential to fight for third. (More posts to come explaining the aforementioned events.)

As you may have deduced, Marathon Day involves drinking copious amounts of Beer. The goal for the day is to drink 26.2, 12oz. Beers to match the 26.2 miles you run in a marathon. There are a couple rules though: #1 Marathon Day starts at 12pm sharp and ends at 12am sharp. No Beer consumed before or after those times are counted. #2 Any regurgitation or sleeping results in instant disqualification.

Unfortunately, this year I was disqualified at 10:09pm for falling asleep. This is my story:

12:01pm: I crack my first Corona Light with the boys and celebrate. To Marathon Day!

2:05pm: Our first disqualification. Poor guy barely finished one Beer and tossed his cookies. It has been argued that drinking the day before Marathon Day can heighten your tolerance the day of and help you perform like a champ. A risky racket as it turns out. Drink too much and you stay up way too late and lose precious sleep. (Like I did) Thus, making staying awake through the latter hours near impossible. Drink way too much and you won't make it past your first beer like our friend.

4:30pm: I'm about 10 Beers deep and we decide to play poker. Bad idea for me. I left the table and gave my chips to somebody sober. They lost my chips in 15 minutes but, like I said, I was 10 Beers deep so I didn't care because I would've lost them faster.

5:30pm: Now 15 Beers have gone by the wayside and I'm way ahead of schedule. The key to Marathon day is pace. 2 an hour for 9-11 hours and then pick up the pace when you're good and liqueured up.

9:30pm: I'm not sure how much I've had to drink and I'm trying my hardest not to fall asleep. Things are getting foggy and I think I'm singing Karaoke.

10:09pm: I wake up in a recliner clueless as to how I got there to people yelling, "DQ, DQ, DQ!" and my heart sinks as someone writes a big "DQ: 10:09" on my Beer tracker. I try to plead my case but I finally concede and retire to my room, defeated.

11:30pm: I wake up again in my bed to people piling into my room and jumping on top of me. I think it's the morning so I'm thoroughly confused as to why all these people are up and drunk and bothering me but I find a clock and come to my senses. Or so I thought.

11:45pm: I wander back out and see that I was disqualified with only 4.2 Beers left and decide against my better judgment to go ahead and finish despite being disqualified. Things go dark after that. Security!

9:30am: I wake up still drunk and lost. I'm still in my bed but in a different set of clothes and my left shoulder, right forearm and right wrist are in pain. Waking up with random injuries and no clue what brought them about is quite common with Marathon Day competitors.

9:45am: I go in search of answers to find my room mate in bed with another man. Luckily for both of us he wasn't in any compromising position so I proceed to inquire as to what happened after I passed out.

I find out that passing out was probably for the better. After interrogating the hangover victims strewn about my destroyed apartment, I found out that one special contender who will forevermore hold a special place in my heart, actually managed to escape the party and wandered the streets. I can only imagine what that looked like. I can also only imagine what it would look like to peer out my home into my back yard and seeing someone squatting against a wall, half naked, doing an unspeakable act. This person used their undergarments as TP and decided to leave them behind with their little surprise for those of you curious enough to ask. Those poor people. I hope they never visit the southwest corner of their back yard.

When you gotta go, you gotta go I guess. I love you, Marathon Day. See you next year.

Stay tuned for details about "Good Friday, Bad Saturday" and Yucca.

Cheers!

- C.C.R. Kiiiiiindyyyyy