On this side of the river we will have a conversation about Beets.  On that side of the river we will have a messy talk about chocolate.  No, not chocolate.  Chocolate.  Somehow in the magical world of random typing a bridge will be built and there will be a connection.

President Obama does not like beets.  How was it put?  Ah yes, “Beets banned from the White House garden.”  I know GW got into a lot of trouble over broccoli, but I doubt anyone is going to beat Obama up over beets.  Beets!  It’s not what’s for a democratic dinner.  To each his own.  But, beets have been given a purple rain of publicity.  Have you not noticed them showing up on absolutely every menu in every restaurant that claims to have a “Chef?”  No, Boyardee does not count.  Beets apparently pair very well with strong cheeses like blue and feta and acidic foods like vinegar and oranges.  Beets are supposedly amazing with lentils…..and here’s where we begin to slowly build that bridge.  Let’s go to the other side of the river.

Lying in bed, I read an early morning email while the chatter of waking children literally chimed, “Better read faster.”  My friend had sent a deliciously written disgusting article on the ultimate athletic shame: The Chocolate Mess.  In other words, IT HAPPENS.  Right on cue, the littles entered my bedroom with blankets stuffed up their pants and dangling out.  The joke?  They made baby noises and filled my room with fussy laughter over the fantasy that they have pooped their pants, “Mommy, change me.”  Hey some kids can’t poop without their moms talking about it because they can’t poop without their moms giving them an enema.  We want IT to HAPPEN…..we just don’t need to see it.

I need to go to the bathroom so let me just read this awesome article in there….with the door closed.  Oh come on?  Of course I like to paint my toes and powder my nose with the damn door closed.  Look everybody poops.  EVEN SHE POOPS!

“No she doesn’t!” grumbled Teddy.

Yes.  Yes she does.  Because if she didn’t she’d be full of shit!

Athletes can push themselves to the very limits of excursion.  There is a heroism in vomit, passing out, blood, snot and especially spit.  Everybody cool spits.  But there ain’t no glory in a chocolate mess.  People can get caught doing almost anything and it will be forgotten, but crap your pants?  Oh no.  Even little kids understand this taboo from a very early age.

My darling son had a Hershey squirt in his pants from hard play on the field.  His big blue eyes confessed the foul play with pleas of, “Mom, don’t tell anyone!”  No son, I assured him, Mommy wouldn’t dare.  Let us just go.

In the same race that Paula Radcliffe set the women’s Marathon world record of 2:15:25, a few miles from the finish she pulled off to the side of the course to stretch out a cramp, I mean take a crap on the street.  Whoa!  AwesoMESS.  Now that’s just getting it done.

Ironically, Paula also does not like beets.  They hurt her stomach and give her, well, the runs.  That’s not hot to trot.  Ah-ah-see, bridge is looking a little more structurally sound.

One can Beet around the bush all they like, but as Bess says, “Take a twosey in your LuLu and you’ll have to move out of town!”  I dare say even the delightfully undignified Nitmos wouldn’t rather win a race with a lop sided spray tan as opposed to taking second in clean shorts.  In heat, he may hump a sprinkler or in a pinch lay cable behind the local High School, but Nitmos, correct me if I am wrong, you can’t be the shit if you are wearing it.  Or can you?

Clearly CocoPuffs, I don’t see any shame in athletes pushing themselves to such extremes in events that well, It Happens.  Julie Moss’ finest athletic performance was picking herself out of her own and crawling to that finish line.  I dare say, that is being Hot Shit.  Like the article states, even Jesus had to go hence and ever after one of my favorite sayings, “Holy Shit.”

But noooooooooooooooo, I do not want to ever pop mud pies in public.  Please, please, please Halo do not let this happen to me.  This is why in my new athletic cook book entitled BEET YOURSELF UP, you reader will never find a recipe for Beets WITH Lentils.

You may now walk across the bridge.  Watch your step.

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