You know you are really a Hasher when ...        



You pretty much know every drain pipe, cliff, and mud hole within a 100 km radius of your home.


You have given up on ever finding a cure for your chronic case of poison oak.


Your car is a mess consisting of empty beer cans and old hash newsletters, plus bits of shiggy from various runs of the  last 6 months or so.


You can use hash names in a conversation without hesitating or blushing.


You train like an ultrarunner in order to have enough endurance to run the Medan Hash, the Sumatra Hash, the Bali Hash, the Nusantara Hash, the Phuket Hash, the Tinman Hash, the Batavia Hash, even the Harriettes and any interhashes that come along.


You wake up the day of a hash with the flu and a fever of 41. You gobble aspirin and Vitamin C and take ice baths to get your temperature normal in time for the run.


You no longer think that trashing pizza parlors and pubs is abnormal behavior.


You are afraid to have a CAT scan because it would probably reveal that you really do just have half a brain.