Classy insults for the ultra runner in your life

Ultrarunners are a stupid lot, and I mean that in the most admiring and loving way possible. And if you believe that, they are a pretty gullible lot, too. But they aren't just stupid. They, or I should say ‘we’ since I am among their ranks, if not a petty officer, are a far more complex blend of idiocy and stupidity than you might think. Stupidus varietate, would be our Latin scientific animal classification.

Don't believe me? I give you “11 Classy Insults With Classical Greek and Latin Roots” and you'll see how they all describe ultrarunners we all know and love, or at least tolerate. Feel free to use any of these words in your next colloquy. Your ultrarunner friends are assuredly classic specimens of the Dunning-Kruger effect and will assume that your pejoratives are compliments. You don’t have to let them think otherwise.

1. Pediculous
Lice-infested. From Latin pediculus (louse).
Maybe not lice infested per se, but after miles romping through spring grass fields, many of us are tick infested. Have you ever seen an ultrarunner executing extreme yoga poses trying to remove ticks on their backside? Don't they look pediculous to you?

2. Xanthodontous (zan-tho-DON-tuhs)
Yellow-toothed. From Greek xanthos (yellow) and odont- (a combining form for tooth).

In most sports there are cross-over supermodel/athletes. In ultrarunning, there is the dirtbag/athlete: camp in a car on race day, didn't change clothes in 6 days, just pooped in the woods and wants to shake your hand. Take for example, Barkley RD, Gary Cantrell. We may look normal during the week at work, but on weekends, after 30, 50, 100 miles, I'm sure we all look xanthodontus.

3. Ructabunde
Gasbag. From Latin ructus (belch) and abundus (abundant).
The worst part of being a pacer is running behind your ructanbunde partner. One can only hold back for so long in polite company. But when runs go on for hours, especially with all that jostling around, do you really expect anything different? 

4. Flagitious
Thoroughly wicked, villainous. From Latin flagitium (shameful act).
Have you ever volunteered at a trail race aid station? They are usually held at trail heads, so you are usually surrounded by nature, peaceful silence and fresh air. Until a runner comes to your station and then the air is thick of the sweat from the last eighteen hours of running. It's an evil assault on your olfactory senses. You might even be lucky enough to witness the unveiling of the feet when a runner changes his or her socks. Avert your eyes or you may never rid your mind of feet that must have partaken in satanic rituals. Flagitious aromas, flagitious feet.

 5. Quisquilian
Worthless, consisting of trash. From Latin quisquiliae (waste matter, rubbish).
Do you know what the prize is for winning the most prestigious ultrarun in the U.S. is? At Western States, the award for first place is a belt buckle, the same award given to last place. Most other 100 miles races have followed suit and give buckles. Someone sold their buckle recently for $510, just more than the entry fee of $400. So after paying for airfare, lodging, equipment, support crew costs, not to mention training costs and marital counseling, you get a belt buckle. The prize for winning Hardrock 100? You get to kiss a rock. The prize for finishing last? You get to kiss the same rock. You win one race in the Tour de France, you get kissed by two beautiful girls. But one of ultrarunning’s top prizes is kissing a rock. Talk about a group of people with a low, quisquillian sense of self.

6. Fissilingual
Fork-tongued. From Latin fissus (split) and lingua (tongue).

Aid stations at ultramarathons look like a Smurf potluck with 50 bowls of wholesome sugary snacks. You might notice a few things missing - individual plates, bowls, napkins, forks. Just before entering the aid stations, runners have spent the past hour blowing their noses, wiping their sweat and scratching their back and undersides. Being fissilingual helps them pick up and consume two handfuls of food in three bites. It's a competitive advantage!

7. Quidnunc
Busybody, gossip-monger. From Latin quid nunc? (what now?).
Need evidence? Mention “Lance Amstrong won a trail race” in front of two ultrarunners, step back and watch the show. Getting hungry? Go ahead, step out for a snack and come back an hour later. They’ll still be arguing.

"You know, I'm reluctant to boast about having done this. It's kind of like telling people you beat yourself at night with chains." - Paul Garnett on finishing Western States 100.

8. Excerebrose
Brainless. From Latin ex (out, without) and cerebrum (brain).
This needs no further explanation. When your friend says that she's signing up for the 200 mile TRT, you could reply, “gee, that sounds like an excellent, excerebrose idea.”

9. Furfuraceous
Flaky, dandruff-covered. From Latin furfur (bran, chaff).
This also does not need much explanation. Dirtbag runners are often seen sleeping in their cars the night before a race and often the night after, too. The word does sound like “far far”, so you could convince your idiot friend that calling them a furfuraceous runner is synonymous with “ultrarunner”, which it is!

10. Exophthalmic
Bug-eyed. From Greek ex (out) and ophthalmos (eye).

The amount of stress that a human body goes through over 50+ miles of running could be compared to carrying a demon ring over mountains and getting stabbed by a poisonous spider. At least, this is how most of us not named Rob Krar or Kaci Lickteig look like towards the end of our races.

11. Morosoph
A learned fool. From Greek moros (stupid) and sophos (wise).
This term doesn’t appear to quite fit at first, as the moros part of us that signed up for these events doesn’t wise up and stop ourselves from not signing up for the next event. In truth, there is no other part. We just act like there is. Ask any ultrarunner about the best training plan, diet plan, etc. and they will blab on for hours after you've even stopped pretending to listen. 

And there you have it. Of course, you don't need these fancy words all the time. 6+ hours into a run, most of us can't speak nor understand anything other than monosyllabic grunts. We certainly can't even comprehend that we're being insulted. Tell someone they are an idiot for running that far, and they'll take it as a compliment. If you really want to insult an ultrarunner, when they tell you how far their last run was, just say....

You're quite the joggger, aren't you?