Usain Bolt and I have very little in common. He’s 6-6, from Jamaica, and effectively the fastest person on the planet. I’m not even the fastest person in this room. However, if you read this story, you’ll see that Usain likes to have fun and get bombed. I found this interesting because I know the effects of alcohol on the body. I got pretty wasted for 3 straight days and that pretty much set me back multiple days in exercise. I get dehydrated and then literally don’t feel like doing anything. I’m well aware that Usain and my exercising aren’t on the same planet but I still find it interesting that the fastest person in the world partakes in something that could potentially deter him from being his personal best. I just envision him and his coach having a conversation after this and his coach saying something to this effect, “You’re the fastest person alive and you have a chance of going down in the history books for years to come, why are you getting bombed and risking that?” I suppose this could be taking one day of drinking a bit overboard but I just have to imagine it takes everything perfect to be, well, perfect. Perfect being the fastest person of all time. Proper diet, proper work outs, proper everything. I suppose it’s just one day and it isn’t the significant but I’m happy to see that Usain (in Honey Badger form) “doesn’t give a shit.”
Sammy Wanjiru, the best marathoner in the world up until this year also liked to go out and get bombed as well. Unfortunately one night he brought back some Kenyan slut to his house while his wife was home. She locked him outside on the second story porch and drove away. Drunken Sammy, in an attempt to stop his wife, fell off the balcony onto his head and ended up dying. All it takes is one playful little night like that and the best marathoner (or sprinter) in the world is gone forever.