Gobble effing gobble MFers! Grease up your hamhocks, stretch out your jiggly breasts, and jam some stuffing up your fanny packs, because IT'S TIME FOR YOUR ANNUAL TURKEY TROTS!
I am the Cranberry Sauce Boss, a mere ephemeral spectre of an old and beat up can of cranberry sauce. I am a representation of LRC's most hard line runners and as always, I'll be right behind you in spirit during your Turkey Trot to openly berate you worse than Alberto Salazar at a weigh in.
"Only keeping a 5:15 pace? You may as well be wearing a 7 gallon hydration pack and shin length tights under your basketball shorts!"
"Oprah Winfrey could outrun you in Jason Rexing's trainers!"
"Maybe you'd be faster if you lost weight, you 5'11", 97 lb fatso!"
Well, you get the point. So good luck to you all as you run your 18:45 5K marathons and then brag about it on Instagram while holding your finisher's certificate and shoveling Rice a Roni down your hobby jogger throats post race, BURRRRP!
Sincerely,
Cranberry Sauce Boss