It’s made its ugly way into professional cycling. I don’t know who started it. My guess is that it was the mountain bikers in California. Maybe the surfers? Didn’t they come up with the word, “rad?” years ago. That’s worn off, thank goodness. They probably started this.
But who knows?
It’s getting way out of hand.
Even Lance Armstrong and others interviewed on OLN during the Tour were using the word “Epic.”
“It was really an epic stage out there today,” Lance Armstrong.
“That was really epic,” a commentator remarks, on Tyler Hamilton’s triumph, with his shoulder injury and stage win.
Now we have epic camps, and epiccamp.com, and, after reading the physical training logs, on this site, which describe the exploits of Scott Molina and Gordo, everything is epic.
“We had an epic bike ride this morning.”
“We had an epic breakfast.”
“What an epic swim we had.”
“The massage was epic.”
Okay, I’m exagerrating a bit, but that word is in there, like Ragu in Spaghetti.
So, it’s important to go look up this term, if it’s going to be spread around by everybody like chlymidia.
And everybody using it, at least in the context of the Tour De France, or these Epic Training Camps—well, you got lucky, because I’m thinking it just means “heroic,” and all of the jocks were just abusing the word.
But the strange thing is, it works: Websters: “Epic—Surpassing the usual or ordinary, particularly in scope or size.”
But it doesn’t work as well as the word “surreal.”
That’s what you should be using. “Epic” works, but it doesn’t work as well as the word “surreal.” When someone is riding a bike 120 miles a day, at 14,000 feet, swimming 4 miles, and running 14 miles, now, that right there isn’t “Epic,” that’s “Surreal.”
So, maybe we need to stop using the word Epic and use the word “Surreal.”