Running with the Bumpkins – a Lankville News Special Report
This is the time of year when dedicated runners begin gearing up for the Vitiello Decorative Hams Lankville Marathon, which takes place on April 17 (registration now open). With shoes laced tight and parkas secure against harsh winds blowing down from the Lankville Partial Icy Regions, intrepid citizens begin venturing out on longer and longer training runs, dreaming of their upcoming jaunt through “Pork Glitter Alley” (miles 10-13) or anticipating the grueling crucible of the “Chute of Shame” (miles 18-22).
But some would-be marathoners have reported strange sightings as they wind through “The Woods” or circumambulate The Mud Pits during longer runs: Odd shapes keeping pace with them for a mile or two, sticking close to the shadows, making cooing noises before mysteriously dropping away.
Having sifted the facts and interviewed dozens of local fitness enthusiasts – not to mention studying footage and images hurriedly shot by panicked runners – this reporter has uncovered the alarming truth: The bumpkins are running. In droves.

This bumpkin attempted to give a press conference on the running phenomenon but ended up just waving his arms for 45 minutes.
“Bumpkin behavior is hard to predict, especially as the weather turns,” noted Detective Gee-Temple, who has become somewhat of an expert as he continues to work the “bumpkin beat” for the Lankville Police Force. Yet area psychologist Winifred P. Temple (unclear relation to the detective) believes bumpkins are given a bad rap. “They’re people. They’re outside. They need exercise, just like everyone else. Sue them,” she said.
Berenice Cradles, millennial entrepreneur and recent MacLankan Genius awardee, is planning to run her fifth consecutive Lankville Marathon this spring. She was out running last weekend in the Deep Lankville Basin Area, a loop that allows her to do “double duty” and inspect ongoing construction on her upcoming mixed-use complex, tentatively named {[@**]}, when she noticed a band of bumpkins jogging alongside her.
“Normally I like to run with my posse,” said Cradles, “but sometimes you just need to get out and let the ideas flow.” Cradles was blissfully riffing on anagrams for her favorite slogan “Lankville: Comeback Nation,” (“Love me, taint ball knock…”) when she saw them. They were surprisingly spry, averred the young genius, with five or six bumpkins moving swiftly through the undergrowth and gravelly pits spotting the Basin.
“I have to say, the bumpkins were pushing me there for a little while.”
Then as Cradles neared her Prius, parked at the Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall, the bumpkins suddenly disappeared.
Ex-boyfriend Josh Wilson-Shires, who’d waited patiently in the car to drive Cradles home, was disturbed when she told him of the incident.
“Harmless or not, I don’t like it,” he said, echoing the sentiments of many Lankville residents. Yet it remains unclear what, if any, laws the bumpkins might be breaking as they shadow runners on their routes about town – or what, if anything, can be done about it.
LETTER SACK