About five years ago I had occasion to run my first and only ultramarathon, at Contingency Operating Base Speicher, Iraq. It was not by design, but by the general incompetence of the person who was putting together the race itself.By the time I had hit the 20-mile mark, knowing the distances were about 55 shades of fucked up beyond all recognition, I was pretty much right along the sentiment described in the picture, which appears in The Oatmeal about the comic author's ultramarathon experience.
This is a different kind of art, probably not so public. I would totally buy a t-shirt that said this, were it not for the fact that it would be unwearable at home (my kids) and outside (standards of professional conduct). That's a shame, because it's so fucking dead on.
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