KAREN LAND

Even though Butler University lost last week’s NCAA Division 1 Men’s Championship, I’m still wearing

my favorite Bulldog t-shirt.

Go ahead. Make all of the wise cracks you like. There’s no denying this year’s final game was pure misery to witness; both Butler and U Conn had a lousy night. I’m not here to write a sports column, breaking the game down to worthless bits from my easy chair. Butler didn’t make the shots. Game over.

But I will admit that after the final buzzer, the game was far from done for me. I sat up half the night, feeling so horrible for the Mid-major Butler boys who worked their butts off to climb to the top of the bracket two years in a row.

You can’t help but want great things for exceptional people who push so hard. Butler’s loss reminded me of the pain I feel when I see an Olympic figure skater fall in the final performance or a dog musher scratch from the Iditarod or a marathoner fade just a mile from the finish line.

Every trusty vessel needs a name. I dubbed my new-to-me 1987 Toyota Escaper RV, “Taterbug.”

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of things on a whim. Right around the time I invested in my mini home/ office on wheels, I also signed up for a 30-mile run called, “The Taterbug.”

The moniker, “Taterbug,” stuck to my Toyota like bugs to the windshield. Not only does my new ride resemble a potato bug in looks, it also moves down the road about as fast as an insect come autumn.

So far (knock on wood), forking over the entry fee for the race is the only Taterbug-related purchase that’s given me second thoughts.

One evening after an unusually invigorating but very short run, I decided that it was time I set myself another goal. I spent a few hours on the computer, surfing the hundreds of ultra running websites. That’s when I stumbled across the Taterbug Ultra in southern Indiana.

To be honest, I fell in love with the cute name. A Taterbug run sounds so sweet and innocent, doesn’t it?