Running on the street in the smokey heat, step by step, beat by beat, the pitter patter of fleet feet and hearts so sweet echo through the streets. Could Louisiana’s run club challenge nature’s callous rage? Would the runners hang their shoes and cower to their safe caves? Pray I say nay! A monsoon could not stop the Louisiana’s run club from crossing the lagoons, the icy chill of fall could not halt Lousiana’s run club from overrunning Roosevelt’s Mall, nor could the smoke of ten thousand bogs hold back the undying determination of Louisiana’s run club (even if they were to run in clogs)!
Chance is the game we have to play when we prance about in the streets. The chance of wearing shorts too short, the chance of running into a tree, the chance of being yelled profanity; these are the risks, and we are the risk seekers. If your curiosity is peaked, come on a tour and be sure to reach your hand into the big freezy pop gourd for the greatest of the rewards.”
– Contributing Recap “Caveman Stevens”