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If you’re a regular follower of Anyone Can Enter, you know that Cheese Rolling holds a special place in my heart. You may also know that the annual event was cancelled this year due to public safety concerns, what with 15,000-plus spectators ascending on a narrow English hill meant to handle roughly the capacity of a typical double-decker London bus. Cheese Rolling organizers hope to resolve their safety issues and hold an official event next year, but that didn’t stop hundreds of cheese rollers from gathering at Cooper’s Hill today for an unofficial cheese rolling.
A few of my favorite snippets from the local coverage of the event:
–(Six-time champion Chris) Anderson said he visited the site last night to clear the hill of branches and stones.
How awesome is that? Can you imagine Alex Rodriguez showing up at Yankee Stadium the night before the World Series to rake the infield? I think not.
–Diana Smart, who makes the Double Gloucester cheese used for the popular event every year at her farm in Churcham, said: “People have been in and bought cheeses, but of course I don’t know what they bought them for.
“I had my suspicions about one chap who came in. I know he’s won cheeses in the past and was very disappointed when the event was cancelled, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to use it for an unofficial cheese roll.”
This is equally awesome. Although the article doesn’t specifically say this, it leads me to believe that Anderson bought the cheese for the unofficial event.
From the BBC
–Here’s an alternative to chasing cheese, especially if you prefer going uphill, rather than downhill. In the Tetbury Woolsack Race, men carry 60-pound sacks of wool up a steep hill. And just like Cheese Rolling, there seems to be no good reason for doing this. Cheers!
From The Daily Mail
–For unofficial women’s champion Eleanor Walpole, winning the cheese is worth every bit of nearly losing her shirt. (Scroll down halfway for pictures.)
Are you a citizen of the European Union? What about Norway, Liechtenstein, or Switzerland?
If yes, do you have any desire to go on a year-long vacation?
Then you’d better go here. Radisson Blu Hotels is offering a spectacular prize open to anyone living in the afforementioned countries: 365 hotel nights (with 5 years to spend them) in more than 200-plus hotels. All you have to do is give one reason why you should be the winner.
But even if you don’t live in the EU, you can still participate. That’s because anyone can vote on who should win.
However, there are still 56 days left in the contest. That might give me plenty of time to move to Norway.
In an effort to avoid another registration mishap, I took two crucial steps towards cementing my places in the National Egg Toss Championship and the National Hollerin’ Contest.
For the egg toss, I bought my tickets for the Hagerstown Suns’ home game against the Hickory Crawdads on June 27. I simply have to show up on the field after the game. It’s that easy.
The Hollerin’ Contest registration is slightly more involved, albeit relatively simple. I had to sign a registration form agreeing to conduct myself in a courteous manner, avoid making obscene remarks, refrain from using the stage to seek election, and do everything in my power—should I win—to promote the National Hollerin’ Contest throughout the year. Those all sound good enough.
However, I’m afraid I won’t be able to abide by the first rule listed on the registration sheet: I will not participate while under the influence of alcohol or drugs.
Give me a break, Hollerin’ Contest organizers—I’ve never even attempted to holler! How am I supposed to get on stage in front of an audience of hollerin’ connoisseurs without the slightest hint of liquid courage? Seriously. There’s got to be some kind of alcohol and drug exemption for first-time participants, right?
I know it might sound easy, but watch the following YouTube video and try to imitate some of these calls.
I just did my best. No sooner than I started, Lucy, one of our beloved mutts, awoke from a peaceful nap. She quickly sat up and, with a knowing gleam in her brown eyes, seemed to beg: Please, please, please stop. You’ll never be a hollerin’ champion, Jon. Never. You’ll never take down four-time champion Kevin Jasper. Not with that weak hollerin.’ No way, buddy.
Minutes later, I decided to give it another go. This time, Lucy didn’t even bother to awake from her nap.
Alas, I signed the form and will be mailing it along with a check for $10 to the Spivey’s Corner Volunteer Fire Department, which runs the contest. I just hope they amend their rules to allow moderate pre-contest alcohol consumption.
I’m somewhat embarrassed to say this, but one day after crossing the finish line of the Asheville Idiotarod, I’m still feeling the pain of the course.
In fact, I’m in more pain today than I ever was at any point after the CN Tower Stair Climb.
Seriously.
Thanks to the rock hard ground in which we planted trees and bushes along the route, I not only have two open blisters on the insides of my thumbs, but I can barely feel the sole of my right foot. That’s because running shoes aren’t exactly made to give you a firm, wide base when slamming your foot onto a shovel. On every 10th shovel kick, my shoe got stuck between the metal part of the shovel and the shaft. When I got fed up with that, I relied heavily on jabbing the shovel with my arms. So, big surprise, my triceps are also burning today.
Then, of course, there was the matter of actually pushing the cart up and down the city streets for the better part of 3 miles. That took quite the toll on my legs.
I guess this is all to be expected. Unlike tower running, I never really trained for the idiotarod, and it’s not like I was going to get a cart for practice. Or run a mile and dig 15 holes in my neighbors’ yards as fast I can.
Then again, I really shouldn’t be this sore. It’s the Idiotarod, not the Ironman. What this tells me, obviously, is that I’m nowhere closer to being in better shape than when I started this process. While making a giant fool of myself was certainly one of my main objectives, losing a few pounds and getting a little faster remain high on my list of goals.
Therefore, it’s officially time to start kicking my training up a notch.
Unfortunately, my next two scheduled events are an egg toss and a hollerin’ contest. Unless it’s an extreme egg toss in which I’m blindfolded, running backwards through rush-hour traffic, I doubt it’s going to help me achieve my physical goals. I know for a fact, however, that it is your standard, run-of-the-mill egg toss (although it does bill itself as a national championship).
Don’t get me wrong. I do plan to train extensively for the hollerin’ contest and the egg toss. But in order to kickstart my journey to peak physical fitness, I’m going to need to register for that half marathon sometime soon. That way, I’ll have a goal, and training won’t be an option.
As for right now, I need to grab another ice pack.
I’m happy to say that our cart, idiotapong, made front page news in Asheville today.
Well, it was actually just on the Asheville Citizen-Time’s website. But we were the first team pictured in their gallery.
I took several pics before, during, and after the race. Unfortunately, my phone would not allow me to upload them during the race. Here’s a few now:
Our emcee.
A random assortment of competitors before the race.
A team of men wearing dresses.
Carie digging.
And, finally, a before and after shot of our ping pong table cart. I think that much flour was caked in my hair, too.
Shortly after finishing the Idiotarod, we shot this video recap during which I was mildly incoherent. I suppose that’s to be expected after pushing a cart 3 miles in the midday sun with occasional stops to plant trees, all while similar likeminded folks ran past squirting water guns, flinging bags of flour in my face, and decorating my head with shaving cream.
In all the madness, I forgot to mention a few important facts. Here they are.
Weirdest thing somebody said to us: “I’m not trying to rape you, I’m just trying to pull down your pants.” This came from a shaving-cream-shooting opponent as she shot Barbasol down the back of Lauri’s pants. Perhaps this should be outlawed next year. Then again, this is Asheville. And the girl did say she wasn’t trying to rape her, so maybe we should give her some credit. Plus, it was a girl!
Apparently, there is a line we don’t cross when picking up trash: For Lauri, it was a condom wrapper. Gross.
Coolest thing that happened during the race: Since we were in last place and because this race takes place on the city streets of Asheville, we had a personal police escort for the last mile of the race. As we trudged along the neighborhood streets, one resident sprayed us with her hose and her boyfriend offered me a beer. I quickly shook his hand, accepted the beer, and we were off. I cracked open the beer and started chugging. After downing half of the New Belgium Ranger IPA, I soaked in the moment. I was pushing a shopping cart made to look like a ping pong table. I was completely covered in sweat, flour, shaving cream, and dirt. I was wearing striped tube socks. I was drinking a beer. And all along, I had a personal police escort.
Richard was right: When I talked to race founder and organizer Richard Handy a few days ago, he told me that this race would be the most fun I’d have while giving back. I’m willing to buy that. Even though we officially crossed the finish line without two of our team members (although they weren’t too far behind, and did finish, just not with the cart), and even though one of them suffered a freak injury, I did have a great time. We planted a ton of trees (ok, it was more like 15, but as hard as the ground was, it felt like a ton, and I’ve got the blisters to prove it). We helped beautify the grounds of a church. And we donated 51 cans to a local food bank.
And after the race was finished, we even got in a game of beer pong.
That’s all for now. A four-hour drive home is staring us in the face. Thanks for checking in on the updates.
We may not have finished in first place, but we did pick up the most trash along the way… therefore, we are the winners of the Oscar The Grouch award. In other words, I now have a gift card worth $25 to an Asheville establishment called JK’s Kitchen.
And this is just in, Lauri just won a made-up-on-the-spot award called the Slyvester Stallone award for refusing to accept a ride back to the finish line after the cinderblock bombers sprained her ankle.
In last place, but I think we may have won some prizes! Stay tuned…
An opposing team nearly rendered Lauri’s ankle useless with an unsuspecting cinderblock bomb. With no chance of winning it all, we’re trying to win the award for most trees planted. Oh, someone else sprayed shaving cream down her pants. Yikes.
Back to digging!
And we’re nearly off.
