Landowski Pushes Milk, Not Miracle Vita-Drugs
Capo Beach, CA
December 3, 2008
“All the Landowski ever wanted...was his jersey back...not greedy...it really tied the kit together...”
“Changes of this magnitude in performance are typically achieved in athletes by blood doping or living at high altitude. Daily use of FRS improved high intensity cycling time-trial performance by 3.1%, a very significant effect purely through consumption of a liquid dietary supplement.” -- FRS Healthy Energy advertisement, 2004
MKA badly wants back in the game. But he has problems. First, he doesn't want to train very hard, or at all. Second, he's scared to death of needles, so blood doping is out of the question. Third, he gets claustrophobic inside oxy-suck tents and refuses to sleep at altitude on account his heart races so fast he can’t sleep.
And Fourth, while he knows Lance endorses FRS energy drink, which is marketed to do everything from boosting energy to curing cancer to reversing male pattern baldness, MKA does not even want to get tired enough to "get tired of being tired."
MKA wants it all, without having to give up a thing, except maybe money. Granted, for MKA, giving up money is itself a trigger of extreme, possibly carcinogenic distress, but this is about fame and glory and he’s prepared to pay a reasonable price. MKA is thus an eager consumer in the perfectly legal miracle vita-drug market.
Lance’s Free Radical Scavenger (FRS) tops the list. Take a look at the marvelous ads and press releases and ask yourself, why wouldn’t I use this stuff? To wit: “neutralizes free radicals that cause cellular damage,” lowers “free radical damage associated with premature aging, weakened immunity, and over 60 diseases, including cancer,” “helps restore balance in the mind and body,” “Harvard tested,” doctors with unpronounceable asian surnames, “contracts with major European beverage companies,” contains “miracle ingredient” quercetin, and, my favorite, “we’ve heard wonderful things about [quercetin] helping people [like MKA] with irritable bowel syndrome." And the clincher: comes in “red berry, kiwi and lime, and some kind of mango.”
Sold! The question is not so much “why shouldn’t I be taking this stuff?” It’s more like: “why doesn’t the federal government, faced with the rising costs of curing the sick, force every citizen to chug buckets of FRS on the hour!" Save money and lives!
MKA was elated. His comeback strategy was complete. Get up, drink a half-gallon of kiwi flavored FRS for breakfast. Sit around, look busy, and dream about dropping the idiots on Newport Coast Road. At lunch, drink a full gallon of mango FRS. Pedal around, long steady and slow (LSS) on my trainer, careful not to hit the level of intensity that triggers a massive free radical response. And then, for supper, a full gallon of key lime pie flavored FRS. Order a few barrels of FRS online, write a few snarky emails to the Reverend Billy, go to bed, and let the little free radical scavengers go to work.
Landowski takes a deep whiff. “I need a sour beverage that curdles fast. The more acid, the quicker the good shit gets into my bloodstream.”
The scuttlebutt around Orange County these days is that another Tour De France winner, Freud Landowski, has been trading pulls with the local heroes like Gap Star (“unsecured debt and huge deficits are good for the economy”), Footie (allegedly played outside backer for the Cowboys, last seen in CDM blissfully riding a cruiser on its rims, a cig dangling from his shankerous lips, packing a malt liquor in his jersey pocket), Fuggov and Furrball every Saturday morning on the world famous Fred Park ride.
MKA caught word from the boys at the Magic Bench on Balboa that Landowski's mid-ride beverage of choice was not FRS but rather plain old cow's milk - in fact an entire gallon of it. Now this struck MKA as odd (if not borderline scandalous) even for an oddball like Landowski who has a reputation for running against the herd and poking a sharp stick in the eyes of pompous assholes.
MKA decided to call up the reclusive iconoclast and check the rumors out for himself. Mr. Landowski graciously agreed to meet me after his morning ride at “his favorite post-ride restaurant,” which turned out to be a Ralph's.
MKA: Thank you for meeting me, uh, sir, here in the dairy aisle. I’m a busy man as I’m sure you are so first I have to ask is why aren’t you feet up on the couch in a Michelin Man compression suit like the serious pros?
L: The housecoat? Yes, well after 5 hours wrapped in lycra the last thing I want to do is wear my nuts up around my belly button in a straightjacket. I need to air it out. Go with the flow. Not worry about all that crap.
|Sometimes There’s a Man.
A man for His Time and Place. I’m not saying a Hee-ro, Cuz What’s a Hee-ro?
MKA: What about the theory that post-exertion compression clothing prevents swelling?
L: Yes well first you know who doesn’t swell? The pretenders who’d rather pamper than pound. Jellyfish . . . You can’t, yaknow, build a bonfire with ice cubes, or something. If I want to prevent swelling, I’ll mix a few aspirin in with my milk. Or just ride around in my torino for a day or two.
MKA: Tell me about milk. I’m willing to pay big money to get fit without incurring the wrath of exercise induced free radicals. And I will not sweat, either.
L: After a tough work out, I need a beverage that’s sour, creamy, cold and packed with bovine hormones. And it's got to coagulate quickly, so as to leave me with that calm but bloated feeling. The more bloated I feel, the sooner I can relax, you know, concentrate on deep breathing. If I want to go straight into a coma, I'll mix half and half with ice.
MKA: You’re joking. Perhaps your’e not. But I can look back on a life of achievement, challenges met, idiots pounded, blue coats ridiculed. I’ve accomplished more than most and without the use of a celebrity endorsed energy drink. Your former boss has made a convincing case that all I need to do to come back is drink his apple, grape, tea and onion extract. He says I need more mitochondria and his elixir will deliver. Is that what it takes to be The Man?
Milk of Human Kindness?
“I too once dabbled in pacificism, not on the bike, of course.”
L: Yes, well, that and a pair of testicles. Look, Lance draws a lot of water in this town, and I’m just a cheese-eater from the sticks. Quercetin sounds pretty good, Lowers cholesterol. Cleans the junk in your arteries. Might ward of cancer here and there, and what not. But I'm not sure killing Free Radicals will get you into Freaky Town. I tend to promote radicalism, as an ethos. I’m not inclined to water down a good healthy, grease fire. I mean, when I hump it up a mountain I'm detonating billions of tiny explosions down deep in my boiler room. I can't get stronger if I don’t stretch, tear, rip and pull myself apart - you know, burn some shit up -- within limits, of course.
MKA: Of course. But the FRS literature tells us that in addition to all the good antioxidant and cancer prevention stuff, it also makes you go further and faster. They did research, at Pepperdine, using elite athletes, who took FRS and in a short time were placing in their local Tuesday Night Worlds.
L: Ahh yes, the Pepperdine study, with the Amgen masters cycling team -- the little urban achievers. And how proud we are of all eleven of them.
MKA: Are you calling them posers?
L: No, man, would you just take it easy? I’m just saying that anti oxidants are cool, I mean, and they probably, you know, lower inflammation, which raises hell with cancer and what not. But, new shit has come to light, man - did you know that the reactionaries at Pepperdine didn’t even biopsy the riders, you know, cut a chunk out of the hamstring and look for more, or less, mitochondria, and what have you?
|Across this Line You Do Not!
Landowski vows to stand up to unchecked aggression. “Mitochondria? I can get you mitochondria. You don’t want to know how.”
MKA: No, I did not know that.
L: Well, did you know they didn’t draw blood? Or use a control group? Or restrict the diets, I mean, what ‘elite’ athlete doesn’t already eat a bunch of fruits and veggies with tons of anti-oxidants? I mean, the idea that a single vitamin supplement can enhance time trialing, based on a small study of amateurs, without measuring the, you know, vital stuff in the blood or tissue, paid for by the company pedaling the product, when more recent studies show that queer- quayercert-whatever - doesn’t amp up endurance, at least when its hot out, and I don’t know a cyclist who doesn’t bubble like a sausage in July... And other guys who showed that, in the, yaknow, science journals, that queer-certain-whatever -- used by a bunch of marathoners didn’t even lower inflammation, well it’s...it’s...it’s.., I mean, preventing a cold is cool, and I’d maybe take it after shredding the Tour, but I mean the strands in the old duder’s head...the whole thing about ‘take this and go faster,’ it’s...it’s...ludicrous...
MKA: What on God’s earth are you blathering about?
L: I’ll tell you what I’m blathering about. Look at it. Big swinging dick, in the parlance of our times, cashing in on his big name. Can’t get enough of his mug on the net, or the tabloids. Connected to fancy labs and nutrition gurus all over the world, including known energy bar profiteers - and that’s cool, but I’m saying, he’s out there curing cancer and fatigue and tiredness, and of course they’re going to say to desperate nitwits like you, I mean pardon me for saying it - telling you its like doping or tents or vitamin C but better, and legal, cuz he’s got to feed the ego, and his entourage, and the hole . . I mean, hasn’t that occurred to you, sir?
MKA: No. Mr. Landowski, that had not occurred to me. This is my concern. My comeback was in his hands! You were supposed to be a good solider and back up Mellow Johnny! Now you’re saying my quick fix is snake oil! My mitochondria are dying in droves as we speak.
L: No, man, just take it easy, nothing is fokked here..
MKA: Nothing is FOCKED? I have $50,000 worth of time trial bikes, rims, disks, skinsuits, helmets and watt meters hanging in my garage! I do not like training! I will not start training! I just bought $30,000 worth of FRS, in crates, in my garage! I want the gain without any pain whatsoever. The GODDAMNED CERVELO HAS CRASHED INTO THE CONCRETE ABUTMENT!
[MKA and Landowski approach the Ralph’s check out line]
|A Worthy adversary.
The man in the slacker housecoat. “This was a valued...uh, it really tied the kit together...” And the French micturated on it
L: Well, Ok, you’re not privy to all the new shit about FRS, so uh, you know, but that’s why you’ve come to me. El Looney’s got your potion. Speaking of which, do you have $.69? My checking account is running a little low, and I forgot my Ralph’s...
MKA: Here’s two dollars.
L: I gotta check with my accountant of course, but my concern is that this could bump me into a higher tax...
MKA: What am I going to do? Racing was the light of my… Do my tears surprise you, sir?
L: Frickin’ A [takes a swig of his half-n-half].
MKA: Strong men also cry. Strong men...
L: That’s the stress talking, sir. Look, you want a magic potion? Read my lips. See what I’m talking about?
MKA: You mean the milk mustache?
L: Yes. Milk: it like, yaknow, does a body good, man. You’re thinking has gotten all uptight on this. Milk has everything you need . You’re hip’s fugged up, so’s mine. But we’re not in a wheel chair yet, sir. Milk builds strong bones, loaded with calcium. Vitamin K. Uh, riboflavins, and what not. The Bs to clean your pipes. You want to mix up one helluva caucasion? The best stuff comes from grass fed cows, grass and the right hormones and fatty acids – that stuff will cool your jets And prevent cancer And lower cholesterol...
MKA: Sounds better than mother’s milk, to use the parlance of my...
L: And it’s not even banned, yet.
|The Little Lancelot Urban Achievers, $12k dreamers with promise but without the necessary means for higher...