Monday, October 1, 2012

Signing A Waiver

I signed up online for an event in December.  I clicked trough the waiver like I always do but something caught my eye that made me go back and read it through. 

Release of Liability
I understand that running is a strenuous activity and has some inherent risk, some would say moreso on the trails than on a treadmill inside some meat-market gym.  But then, who’s going to listen to “some” when your friends drag you out onto the dirt for more than what a treadmill can provide?  Having heard just enough, though likely not researched enough; and likely not listened hard enough about the Coyote genre of trail running events from other Coyote Veterans, and thus chosen to subconsciously or consciously forget/ignore, I realize that my inattention to my own health and well-being cannot be cause for my ranting at the organizers, sponsors and supporters, in all their sizes and forms and personalities, for whatever mental grievance or alleged physical discomfort I may concoct just to please my own self-centered sense of how right I always am and how wrong the rest of the world should recognize it is.  In signing, I hereby and therefore aver and avow that I recognize the risks of trying to participate in the Cajun Coyote trail run towards the objective of crawling into bed Saturday night (Dec 1st) or Sunday morning (Dec 2nd) in as good health as I brought to the game Saturday morning, and that there is no medical reason (beyond the sanity piece my doctor seemingly wants to bring up more often than I’d prefer) that I should not attempt to run and enjoy my long hours, from morning’s light and potentially into the deep, deep, deep darkness of night, and dang, maybe even into Sunday morning.  Some say, and others have confirmed, that running on trails poses many hazards, not limited to falls, slips, trips, dips, caca weather, swamp monster and bayou bogeyman attacks in broad daylight or deep, deep, deep darkness of night, and generally a whole bunch of other dangerous conditions that you don’t want to read about, but have heard from those “some” and “others” that often motivate the more skittish in life just to sit in their cocooned condo and have all their food and household possessions delivered to their doorstep and/or conduct their interaction with the outside world almost completely via online resources, and who wait impatiently glued to C-SPAN coverage in hopes that Congress will magically implode and we’ll return to that fantasy world of benevolent government catering to all citizens’ wishes.  Considering all that I’ve acknowledged above, summarily, I fully assume (and promising not to parse that into the proverbial you and me looking like an ass) all risks of illness, spillness, fulfillness, thrillness, injury or (yes, my Precious) even death, and release covenant (that means something legal to cover the butts of the lay people who couldn’t figure out how the lawyers sustain their livelihood off of saps like us) not to sue or otherwise pursue legal judgment, and discharge the CajunDip (“The Dip”), the Coyote Cohorts and its volunteers, Chicot State Park and its jurisdictional parent organization, and all other contributors, or other agents (except them clan-dess-tine fed’ral guys who may have a part in them swamp monsters showin’ up) from all actions (meaning, here, the legal definition of the term, cuz otherwise, you’ll be “active” when you’re running or hanging out consuming Cajun yummies at the Finish, so isn’t that “action” too, which now suggests you shouldn’t be doing it, right?), claims or demands for damages arising out of my participation in the Cajun Coyote events.  The foregoing release (and, gee, isn’t there a lot of it?) is binding on me personally, as well as upon my heirs/’airs/airs (whichever or all of which may apply), executors, and administrators (and if I have that many and can afford them, then if I survive the weekend mentally intact, perhaps I’ll send a few Jacksons, Grants or Franklins back to the Coyote Cohorts for their much depleted coffers brought on by having to pay a hefty legal fee for creating this waiver), and/or all members of my family who might make claim on my behalf.  I also confirm that I bear the full burden for reading and taking personal ownership of all salient information (by which rolling multi-syllabic presentation means anything The Dip took time to craft and put in front of my eyes) provided to me on the Cajun Coyote website and/or sent to me via e-mails from The Dip that pertains to my participation in this event, such that should I either fail to read the messages or ignore their significance to my preparation and running in the Cajun Coyote madness, any complications I experience (for example, forgetting to pack my lucky Mongo Monkey in my fanny pack because I just got SO excited about going to Chicot State Park that I lost sight of my priorities) is my own goll darn fault, and any whining on point will be appropriately discredited and serve as fodder for being ridiculed at public settings before, during and after Cajun Coyote.  Two more things:  (1) I realize there will be Ultra Paparazzi spread throughout the Cajun weekend, and any images of myself that they capture may be used at will by them and event management to highlight not only what an incredibly fit and able runner I am, but other shortcomings as well, including but not limited to fashion sense, eating manners, swilling of drinks, any lack of entertainment skills, and/or general human comportment (crawling to the Finish line, or upchucking out of an Aid Station, included).  (2) I also aver and avow that if my sanity isn’t medically discharged before Cajun Coyote expires deep, deep, deep into Saturday’s darkness or after Sunday’s quirky murky sunrise, the beneficent part of me may actually incite me to share some of my premium hooch with one or more of the Volunteers who gave up their weekend so that mine could be as self-indulging as I care to make it.  OK, now I’m done.  Here I go now to sign my name as record of my lack of common sense but complete willingness to abide by the above provisions (not to be confused with the semi-edible provisions which may be awaiting me at any or all of the aid stations I will encounter while suffering, er, enjoying my miles of the Cajun Coyote Trail Run.  Gosh, thinking of such rich culinary experiences has my mouth watering already!!).