Endurance

Endurance (pronounced en-doo r-uhns or en-dyoo r-uhns)

(1) The fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc.

(2) The ability or strength to continue or last, especially despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina.

(3) Lasting quality; duration.

(4) Something endured, as a hardship; trial.

1485-1495: From the Middle English enduren from the Old French endurer, from the Classical Latin indūrō (to make hard).  Enduren displaced the pre-900 Old English drēogan (congnate with the Gothic driugan (to serve in arms) which survives dialectally as dree (tedious; dreary)).  The meaning "ability to endure suffering" was first noted in the 1660s. The older forms, enduraunce, indurance, induraunce are all long obsolete.  Construct was endure + ance; the suffix –ance (a process or action) added to the stem of verbs to form a noun indicating a state or condition, such as result or capacity, associated with the verb, this especially prevalent with words borrowed from French.  Many words ending in ance were formed in French by alteration of a noun or adjective ending in ant; ance was derived from the Latin anita and enita.

Endurance Racing

There’s no precise definition of endurance racing, it's just a form of competition of greater duration of length than most.  It’s bounced around over the years but events now regarded as endurance races tend to be over a distance of 625 miles (1000 km) or twelve or twenty-four hours long.

Long races existed from the early days of motorsport, the first twenty-four hour event being on an oval circuit at Dayton, Ohio in 1905, followed soon by the opening event at the purpose-built Brooklands circuit in 1907.  One of the epic races was the Targa Florio, first run in 1906.  Held originally on public roads in the mountains of Sicily near the capital Palermo, it was for decades the oldest event for sports cars and a round of the World Sportscar Championship between 1955-1973.  The first few races were a lap of the whole island but as the volume of traffic and competitors increased, it became too disruptive and the track length was reduced to the 72 kilometre (45 mile) Circuito Piccolo delle Madonie, each Targa Florio run over eleven laps.  Safety concerns and the oil crisis conspired to remove it from the world championship after 1973 and it was finally cancelled in 1977.  A much toned-down event is now run annually as a round of the Italian Rally Championship.

Further north, the thousand-mile Mille Miglia, also run on public roads, was first staged in 1927 and although soon one of the classic events on the calendar, it's the 1955 race to which a particular aura still attaches.  Won by Stirling Moss (1929-2020) and  Denis Jenkinson (1920-1996), they used a Mercedes 300SLR, a car which technically complied with the sports car regulations but was actually the factory's formula one machine (W196) with a bigger engine and a streamlined body with seats for two.  It wasn't exactly a "grand prix car with headlights" as some claimed but that wasn't far off.  Officially the W196S (Sports) in the factory register, for marketing purposes it was dubbed (add badged) as the 300SLR to add lustre to the 300SL Gullwing coupé then on sale.

Mercedes-Benz W196S (300SLR), Mille Miglia, 1955.

The race was completed in 10 hours, 7 minutes and 48 seconds, a average speed of 157.650 km/h (97.96 mph) (the course was never exactly 1000 miles and that year was 1,597 km (992 miles) and at times, the 300SLR touched almost 305 km/h (190mph) which enabled Moss to cover the last 340 km (211 miles) at an average speed of 265.7 km/h (165.1) mph.  The record set in 1955 will stand for all time because the Italian government banned the Mille Miglia after two fatal crashes during the 1957 event, one of which killed nine spectators and a cursory glace at the photographs showing crowds clustered sometimes literally inches from the speeding cars might suggest it's surprising not more died.

Today, the name of the Mille Miglia endures as a semi-competitive tour for historic racing cars which, run since 1977.  By contrast, events run on closed courses have survived, the most famous of which is the 24 Heures du Mans (the Le Mans 24 Hour) and well-known 1000 km, 12 & 24 hour races have been run at Sebring, Laguna Seca, Daytona, Bathurst, the Nürburgring and Spa Francorchamps.

Porsche 917Ks in the wet.  Vic Elford (1935-2022) and Pedro Rodriguez (1940-1971), BOAC 1000km, Brands Hatch, 1970.

Dynamometer

Dynamometer (pronounced dahy-nuh-mom-i-ter)

(1) A device for measuring mechanical force or muscular power (ergometer).

(2) A device for measuring mechanical power, especially one that measures the output or driving torque of a rotating machine.

1800–1810: A compound word, the construct being dynamo + meter.  Dynamo was ultimately from the Ancient Greek δύναμις (dúnamis; dynamis) (power) and meter has always been an expression of measure in some form and in English was borrowed from the French mètre, from the Ancient Greek μέτρον (métron) (measure).  What meter (also metre) originally measured was the structure of poetry (poetic measure) which in the Old English was meter (measure of versification) from the Latin metrum, from the Ancient Greek metron (meter, a verse; that by which anything is measured; measure, length, size, limit, proportion) ultimately from the primitive Indo-European root me- (measure).  Although the evidence is sketchy, it appears to have been re-borrowed in the early fourteenth century (after a three hundred-year lapse in recorded use) from the Old French mètre, with the specific sense of "metrical scheme in verse”, again from the Latin metrum.  Metre (and metre) was later adopted as the baseline unit of the metric system.  Dynamometer is a noun; the noun plural is dynamometers.

The modern meaning of dynamometer (measuring the power of engines) dates from 1882 and is short for dynamo-machine, from the German dynamoelektrischemaschine (dynamo-electric machine), coined in 1867 by its inventor, the German electrical engineer Werner Siemans (1816-1892). Dynamometers, almost universally referred to as dynos, are machines which simultaneously measure the torque and rotational speed (RPM) of an engine or other rotating prime-mover so specific power outs may be calculated.  On modern dynamometers, measures are displayed either as kilowatts (kW) or brake-horsepower (bhp).

Evolution of the Turbo-Panzer

Porsche 917 Flat 12 being run on factory dynamometer, Stuttgart, 1969.

During the last hundred years odd, the rules of motor sport have been written by an alphabet soup of regulatory bodies including the AIACR, the CSI, the FISA and the FIA and these bureaucrats have made many bad decisions, tending often to make things worse but every now and then, as an unintended consequence of their dopiness, something really good emerges.  The large displacement cars of the mid-1960s contested sports car racing in one of the classic eras in motorsport.  Everyone enjoyed the competition except the rule-making body (the CSI, the Commission Sportive Internationale) which, on flimsy pretexts which at the time fooled nobody, changed the rules for the International Championship of Makes for the racing seasons 1968-1971, restricting the production cars (of which 50 identical units had to have been made) to 5.0 litre (305 cubic inch) engines with a 3.0 litre limit (183 cubic inch) for prototypes (which could be one-offs).  Bizarrely, the CSI even claimed this good idea would be attractive for manufacturers already building three litre engine for Formula One because they would be able to sell them (with a few adaptations), for use in endurance racing.  There’s no evidence the CSI ever asked the engine producers whether their highly-strung, bespoke Formula One power-plants, designed for 200 mile sprints, could be modified for endurance racing lasting sometimes 24 hours.  Soon aware there were unlikely to be many entries to support their latest bright idea, the CSI relented somewhat and allowed the participation of 5.0 litre sports cars as long as the homologation threshold of 50 units had been reached.  A production run of 50 made sense in the parallel universe of the CSI but made no economic sense to the manufacturers and, by 1968, entries were sparse and interest waning so the CSI grudgingly again relented, announcing the homologation number for the 5.0 litre cars would be reduced to 25.

The famous photograph of the 25 917s assembled for the CSI’s inspection outside the Porsche factory, Stuttgart, 1969.

This attracted Porsche, a long-time contestant in small-displacement racing which, funded by profits from their increasingly successful road-cars, sought to contest for outright victories in major events rather than just class trophies.  Porsche believed they had the basis for a five litre car in their three litre 908 which, although still in the early stages of development, had shown promise.  In a remarkable ten months, the parts for twenty-five cars were produced, three of which were assembled and presented to the CSI’s homologation inspectors.  Pettifogging though they were, the inspectors had a point when refusing certification, having before been tricked into believing Ferrari’s assurance of intent actually to build cars which never appeared.  They demanded to see twenty-five assembled, functional vehicles and Porsche did exactly that, in April 1969 parking the twenty-five in the factory forecourt, even offering the inspectors the chance to drive however many they wish.  The offer was declined and, honour apparently satisfied on both sides, the CSI granted homologation.  Thus, almost accidently, began the career of the Porsche 917, a machine which would come to dominate whatever series it contested and set records which would stand for decades, it’s retirement induced not by un-competitiveness but, predictably, by rule changes which rendered it illegal.  

917LH (Langheck (long tail)), Le Mans, 1969.

The ten month gestation was impressive but there were teething problems.  The fundamentals, the 908-based space-frame and the 4.5 (275 cubic inch) litre air-cooled flat-12 engine, essentially, two of Porsche’s 2.25 (137 cubic inch) litre flat-sixes joined together, were robust and reliable from the start but, the sudden jump in horsepower meant much higher speeds and it took some time to tame the problems of the car’s behaviour at high-speed.  Aerodynamics was then still an inexact science and the maximum speed the 917 was able to attain on Porsche’s test track was around 180 mph (290 km/h) but when unleashed on the circuits with long straights where over 210 mph (338 km/h) was possible the early cars could be lethally unstable.  The first breakthrough in aerodynamic dynamic was serendipitous.  After one high speed run during which the driver had noted (with alarm) the tendency of the rear end of the car to “wander from side to side”, it was noticed that while the front and central sections of the bodywork were plastered with squashed bugs, the fibreglass of the rear sections was a pristine white, the obvious conclusion drawn that while the airflow was inducing the desired degree of down-force on the front wheels, it was passing over the rear of body, thus the lift which induced the wandering.  Some improvisation with pieces of aluminium and much duct tape to create an ad-hoc, shorter, upswept tail transformed the behaviour and was the basis for what emerged from more extensive wind-tunnel testing by the factory as the 917K for Kurzheck (short-tail).

Porsche 917Ks, the original (rear) and the updated version with twin tail-fins, Le Mans, 1971.

The 917K proved a great success but the work in the wind tunnel continued, in 1971 producing a variant with a less upswept tail and vertical fins which bore some resemblance to those used by General Motors and Chrysler a decade earlier.  Then, the critics had derided the fins as “typical American excess” and “pointlessly decorative” but perhaps Detroit was onto something because Porsche found the 917’s fins optimized things by “cleaning” the air-flow over the tail section, the reduction in “buffeting” meaning the severity of the angles on the deck could be lessened, reducing the drag while maintaining down-force, allowing most of the top-speed earlier sacrificed in the quest for stability to be regained.

The Can-Am: A red Porsche 917/10 ahead of an orange McLaren M8F Chevrolet, Laguna Seca, 17 October 1971.  Two years to the day after this shot was taken, the first oil shock hit, dooming the series.

The engine however had been more-or-less right from day one and enlarged first to 4.9 litres (300 cubic inch) before eventually reaching the 5.0 limit at which point power was rated at 632 bhp, a useful increase from the original 520.  Thus configured, the 917 dominated sports car racing until banned by regulators.  However, the factory had an alternative development path to pursue, one mercifully almost untouched by the pettifoggers and that was the Canadian-American Challenge Cup (the Can-Am), run on North American circuits under Group 7 rules for unlimited displacement sports cars.  Actually, Group 7 rules consisted of little more than demanding four wheels, enveloping bodywork and two seats, the last of these rules interpreted liberally.  Not for nothing did the Can-Am come to be known as the “horsepower challenge cup” and had for years been dominated by the McLarens, running big-block Chevrolet V8s of increasing displacement and decreasing mass as aluminium replaced cast iron for the heaviest components.

The abortive Porsche flat-16.

In 1969, the Porsche factory dynamometer could handle an output of around 750 bhp, then thought ample but even 635 bhp wouldn’t be enough to take on the big V8s but, for technical reasons, it wasn’t possible to further to enlarge the flat-12, Porsche built a flat-16 which pushed their dynamometer beyond its limit, the new engine rated at 750 bhp because the factory didn’t have the means to measure output beyond that point.  Such a thing had happened before, resulting in an anomaly which wasn’t explained for some years.  In 1959 Daimler released their outstanding 4.5 litre (278 cubic inch) V8 but their dynamometer was more antiquated still, a pre-war device unable to produce a reading beyond 220 so that was the rating used, causing much surprise to those testing the only car in which it was ever installed, the rather dowdy Majestic Major (1959-1968).  The Majestic Major was quite hefty and reckoned to enjoy the aerodynamic properties of a small cottage yet it delivered performance which 220 bhp should not have been able to provide, something confirmed when one was fitted to a Jaguar Mark X.  Unfortunately, Jaguar choose not to use the Daimler V8 in the Mark X, instead enlarging the XK-six, dooming the car in the US market where a V8 version would likely have proved a great success.

The Can-Am: Porsche 917/10, Riverside, 1972.

Estimates at the time suggested the Porsche flat 16 delivered something like 785 bhp which in the Can-Am would have been competitive but the bulk of the rendered it unsuitable, the longer wheelbase necessitated for installation in a modified 917 chassis having such an adverse effect on the balance of the car Porsche instead resorted to forced aspiration, the turbocharged 917s becoming known as the turbopanzers.  Porsche bought a new dynamometer which revealed they generated around 1100 bhp in racing trim and 1580 when tuned for a qualifying sprint.  Thus, even when detuned for racing, the Can-Am 917s typically took to the tracks generating more horsepower than the Spitfires, Hurricanes and Messerschmitt which fought the Battle of Britain in 1940.  Unsurprisingly, the 917 won the Cam-Am title in 1972 and 1973, the reward for which was the same as that earlier delivered in Europe: a rule change effectively banning the thing.

The widow-maker: 1975 Porsche 930 with the surprisingly desirable (for some) “sunroof delete” option.

The experience gained in developing turbocharging was however put to good use, the 911 Turbo (930 the internal designation) introduced in 1975 originally as a homologation exercise (al la the earlier 911 RS Carrera) but so popular did it prove it was added to the list as a regular production model and one has been a permanent part of the catalogue almost continuously since.  The additional power and its sometimes sudden arrival meant the times early versions were famously twitchy at the limit (and such was the power those limits were easily found), gaining the machine the nickname “widow-maker”.  There was plenty of advice available for drivers, the most useful probably the instruction not to use the same technique when cornering as one might in a front-engined car and a caution that even if one had had a Volkswagen Beetle while a student, that experience might not be enough to prepare one for a Porsche Turbo.  Small things apparently could make a difference, one source suggesting those wishing to explore a 930’s limits should try to get one with the rare “sunroof delete” option, the lack of the additional weight up there slightly improving the centre of gravity to the extent one could be travelling a little faster before the tail-heavy beast misbehaved.  It may be an urban myth but is vaguely plausible although, at best it would seem only to delay the inevitable.

In what may have been a consequence of the instability induced by a higher centre of gravity, in 2012 Lindsay Lohan crashed a sunroof equipped Porsche 911 Carrera S on the Pacific Coast Highway in Santa Monica, Los Angeles.  Clearly, Ms Lohan should avoid driving Porsches with sunroofs.

Bonk

Bonk (pronounced bongk)

(1) A bump on the head (usually not severe).

(2) To hit, strike, collide etc; any minor collision or blow.

(3) In slang, a brief intimacy between two people, usually with a suggestion of infidelity; often modified with the adjective quick and only ever used where the act is consensual (less common in North America).

(4) In sports medicine, a condition of sudden, severe fatigue in an endurance sports event, typically induced by glycogen depletion (also in the phrase “hit the wall”).

(5) In snowboarding, to hit something with the front of the board, especially in midair.

(6) In zoology, an animal call resembling "bonk" (such as the call of the pobblebonk (any of various Australian frogs of the genus Limnodynastes)).

1931: A creation of Modern English, the origin remains uncertain but most suspect it was likely imitative of sounds of impact (like bong, bump, bounce or bang) and thus onomatopoetic.  As a slang term for an affaire de coeur, use was first noted in 1975 and has always, depending on context, carried an implication of something illicit or quickly done; purely recreational though always consensual.  The use in sports medicine describing the condition of glycogen depletion references a metaphorical impact as in “hitting the wall”, the first known use in 1952 in endurance sports medicine.  Bonkee, as a descriptor for a "woman of loose virtue", appears to have been a 2014 creation which never caught on which is a shame because there are all sorts of cases where the companion terms "bonker" & "bonkee" might have been handy .  The form "bonkers", referring to the deranged, dated from circa 1957 and was apparently unrelated to the earlier naval slang for “drunk” but alluded rather to what could be the the consequence of a “bonk on the head”.  The third-person singular simple present is bonks, the present participle, bonking and the simple past and past participle, bonked.  Bonk & bonking are nouns & verbs, bonker is a noun, bonky is an adjective, bonked is a verb and bonkers is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bonks.

Bonkers: "Last Call" 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 in "plum crazy" (one of the retro colors which reprised those used by Chrysler in the "psychedelic era" of the late 1960s).  3300 were produced, many of which are now being advertised for sale at well above the RRP (recommended retail price).

The Demon 170 was released as part of Dodge’s “Last Call” programme which marked the end of the corporation's run of high-performance V8s, a tradition dating from the early 1950s.  Offered in a bewildering array of configurations in a process which was something like Nellie Melba's (1861-1931) "farewell" tours, the SRT Demon 170 was the most bonkers of a generally bonkers lot.  Rated at 1,025 hp (764 kW), the factory claimed it could accelerate from 0-60 mph (100 km/h) in 1.66 seconds with an elapsed time in the standing ¼ mile (400 metres for those who insist) of 8.91 seconds (terminal speed 151 mph (243 km/h)), setting the mark as the worlds quickest ever standard production car, a reasonable achievement for something weighing 4275 lbs (1939 kg).  By world standards it was also very cheap and on the basis of cost-breakdown vs performance, there was nothing like it on the planet.  In British (and other English-speaking regions although rare in the US) use, "bonkers" can and often is used in an entirely non-pejorative way to suggest something or someone verging on the irrational but in some way astonishing, admirable or inspiring.  Road cars with 600+ horsepower V8 & V12 engines are of course bonkers but we'll miss them when they're gone and it would seem the end is nigh.  Greta Thunberg (b 2003) has expressed no regret at the extinction of this species.  

Bonking Boris

Hand-turned fish bonkers on sale in Jaffray, a village in the south-western Canadian province of British Columbia (left) and the front page of The Sun (7 September 2018; right), a tabloid which rarely lets an alliterative opportunity pass by.  

The noun bonker is (1) a short, blunt hardwood club used by fishers efficiently to dispatch (ie bonking them dead) just-caught fish and (2) according to The Sun, the adulterous Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).  A bonk by Boris or the club and a not wholly dissimilar outcome ensues; a one-time employer called bonking Boris "ineffably duplicitous" and the estranged (now former) Mrs Johnson presumably agreed.  At the time, the former prime minister had "a bit of previous" in extra-marital bonking and when this one was announced, it was with an alliterative flourish not seen since the headline “BORIS BACKS BREXIT”.  His resignation from Theresa May's (Lady May, b 1956; UK prime-minister 2016-2019) government was unrelated to bonking (as far as is known) and came, in July 2018, three days after a cabinet meeting at Chequers (the prime-minister's country house), where agreement was reached on Mrs's May’s Brexit strategy, a document compromised by the need to make a nonsensical impossibility look like good policy.  That can be done but it requires rare skill to be in Downing Street and it's been some time since that could be said. 

Freed by his resignation from the burdens of the Foreign Office, bonking Boris was clearly unconcerned at rumors his opponents in the party were assembling a dossier of some four-thousand words detailing his cheating ways, fondness for cocaine and failings of character and turned his attention to a campaign for the Tory leadership.  As wonderfully unpredictable as the politics of the time were fluid, nobody was quite sure whether he’d go into the inevitable election or second referendum as "leave" or "remain"; it would depend on this and that.  In the end, he remained a leaver and things worked out well, his election victory meaning that for one, brief, shining moment, the three world leaders with the most outstanding hair, all had nuclear weapons at the same time.

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021; left), Boris Johnson (centre) and Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011; right)

Some hairstyles are more amenable than others to a quick post-bonk rectification.  Kim Jong-un's cut is probably quite good and would bounce back from a bonk with little more than a run-through with the fingers.  Donald Trump  however would likely need both tools and product for a post-bonk fix.  Mr Trump usually appears well-fixed unless disturbed by breezes any higher than 2 on the Beaufort scale and even a perfunctory bonk is probably equal to at least 4 on the scale so it would have been interesting to see if Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Gregory, b 1979) lived up to her (stage) name although Mr Trump has denied that bonk ever happened.  Mr Johnson's hair so often looks post-bonk that either his conquests are more frequent even than has been rumored or he asks for a JBF with every cut.  One UK publication suggested exactly that, hinting his instruction was "not one hair in place".  That has the advantage for Mr Johnson in that it's a style essentially the same pre-bonk, mid-bonk and post-bonk and thus pricelessly ambiguous in that merely by looking at him, one couldn't tell if he was going to or coming from a bonk although, one assumes, whichever it was, a bonk would never be far from his mind.  Whatever the criticisms of Mr Johnson's premiership (and there were a few), it's to his eternal credit that in his resignation honours list Ms Kelly Jo Dodge (for 27 years the parliamentary hairdresser) was created a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) for "parliamentary service".  In those decades, she can have faced few challenges more onerous than Mr Johnson’s hair yet never once failed to make it an extraordinary example in the (actually technically difficult) “not one hair in place” style.  Few honours have been so well deserved.

A bandaged Lindsay Lohan waking dazed and confused after a bonk on the head in Falling for Christmas (2022; left) and on the move in Irish Wish (2024).   

In May 2021, Netflix & Lindsay Lohan executed what became a three movie deal, the first (Falling for Christmas) released in the northern winter of 2022, just in time for the season.  She played the protagonist, a pampered heiress who loses her memory after suffering a bonk on the head, waking up to a new life.  The second Netflix release opens in February 2024 and in Irish Wish, the plotline involves her spontaneously wishing for something, subsequently waking up to find the wish granted.  So it’s a variation on the theme of the first (though without the bonk on the head), the twist being in the theme of “be careful what you wish for”.

Bonking Barnaby and the bonk ban

Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime-minister of Australia 2015-2018), a student of etymology, was as fond as those at The Sun of alliteration and when writing his memoir (A Bigger Picture (2020)) he included a short chapter entitled "Barnaby and the bonk ban".  As well as the events which lent the text it's title, the chapter was memorable for his inclusion of perhaps the most vivid thumbnail sketch of Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; thrice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022) yet penned:

"Barnaby is a complex, intense, furious personality.  Red-faced, in full flight he gives the impression he's about to explode.  He's highly intelligent, often good-humoured but also has a dark and almost menacing side - not unlike Abbott (Tony Abbott (b 1957; prime-minister of Australia 2013-2015)) - that seems to indicate he wrestles with inner troubles and torments."

Mr Turnbull and Mr Joyce in parliament, House of Representatives, Canberra, ACT.

The substantive matter was the revelation in mid-2017 the press had become aware Mr Joyce (a married man with four daughters) was (1) conducting an affair with a member of his staff and (2) that the young lady was with child.  Mr Turnbull recorded that when asked, Mr Joyce denied both "rumors", which does sound like a lie but in the narrow sense may have verged on "the not wholly implausible" on the basis that, as he pointed out in a later television interview, the question of paternity was at the time “...a bit of a grey area”.  Mr Joyce and his mistress later married and now have two children so all's well that end's well (at least for them) and Mr Turnbull didn't so much shut the gate after the horse had bolted as install inter-connecting doors in the stables.  His amendments to the Australian Ministerial Code of Conduct (an accommodating document very much in the spirit of Lord Castlereagh's (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) critique of the Holy Alliance) banned ministers from bonking their staff which sounds uncontroversial but was silent on them bonking the staff of the minister in the office down the corridor.  So the net effect was probably positive in that staff having affairs with their ministerial boss would gain experience through cross-exposure to other portfolio areas although there's the obvious moral hazard in that they might be tempted to conduct trysts just to engineer a transfer in the hope of career advancement.  There are worse reasons for having an affair and a bonk for a new job seems a small price to pay.  It's been done before.

Crunning & Cromiting

Crunning (pronounced khrun-ing)

In high-performance sports training, simultaneously running and crying.

Circa 2020: the construct was cr(y) + (r)unning.

Cromiting (pronounced krom-et-ing)

In high-performance sports training, simultaneously running, crying & vomiting.

Circa 2020: the construct was cr(y) + (v)omit + (runn)ing.

The verb cry was from the thirteenth century Middle English crien, from the Old French crier (to announce publicly, proclaim, scream, shout) (from which Medieval Latin gained crīdō (to cry out, shout, publish, proclaim)). The noun is from Middle English crie, from the Old French cri & crïee.  The origin of the Old French & Middle Latin word is uncertain.  It may be of Germanic origin, from the Frankish krītan (to cry, cry out, publish), from the Proto-Germanic krītaną (to cry out, shout), from the primitive Indo-European greyd- (to shout) and thus cognate with the Saterland Frisian kriete (to cry), the Dutch krijten (to cry) & krijsen (to shriek), the Low German krieten (to cry, call out, shriek”), the German kreißen (to cry loudly, wail, groan) and the Gothic kreitan (to cry, scream, call out) and related to the Latin gingrītus (the cackling of geese), the Middle Irish grith (a cry), the Welsh gryd (a scream), the Persian گریه‎ (gerye) (to cry) and the Sanskrit क्रन्दन (krandana) (cry, lamentation).  Some etymologists however suggest a connection with the Medieval Latin quiritō (to wail, shriek), also of uncertain origin, possibly from the Latin queror (to complain) through the form although the phonetic and semantic developments have proved elusive; the alternative Latin source is thought to be a variant of quirritare (to squeal like a pig), from quis, an onomatopoeic rendition of squeaking.  An ancient folk etymology understood it as "to call for the help of the Quirites (the Roman policemen).  In the thirteenth century, the meaning extended to encompass "shed tears", previously described as “weeping”, “to weep” etc and by the sixteenth century cry had displace weep in the conversational vernacular, under the influence of the notion of "utter a loud, vehement, inarticulate sound".  The phrase “to cry (one's) eyes out” (weep inordinately) is documented since 1704 but weep, wept etc remained a favorite of poets and writers.

Vomit as a verb (the early fifteenth century Middle English vomiten) was an adoption from the Latin vomitus (past participle of vomitāre) and was developed from the fourteenth century noun vomit (act of expelling contents of the stomach through the mouth), from the Anglo-French vomit, from the Old French vomite, from the Latin vomitus, from vomō & vomitare (to vomit often), frequentative of vomere (to puke, spew forth, discharge), from the primitive Indo-European root wemh & weme- (to spit, vomit), source also of the Ancient Greek emein (to vomit) & emetikos (provoking sickness), the Sanskrit vamati (he vomits), the Avestan vam- (to spit), the Lithuanian vemti (to vomit) and the Old Norse væma (seasickness).  It was cognate with the Old Norse váma (nausea, malaise) and the Old English wemman (to defile).  The use of the noun to describe the matter disgorged during vomiting dates from the late fourteenth century and is in common use in the English-speaking world although Nancy Mitford (1904–1973 and the oldest of the Mitford sisters) in the slim volume Noblesse Oblige: an Enquiry into the Identifiable Characteristics of the English Aristocracy (1956) noted “vomit” was “non-U” and the “U” word was “sick”, something perhaps to bear in mind after, if not during, vomiting. 

Run was from the Middle English runnen & rennen (to run), an alteration (influenced by the past participle runne, runnen & yronne) of the Middle English rinnen (to run), from the Old English rinnan & iernan (to run) and the Old Norse rinna (to run), both from the Proto-Germanic rinnaną (to run) and related to rannijaną (to make run), from the Proto-Indo-European hreyh- (to boil, churn”.  It was cognate with the Scots rin (to run), the West Frisian rinne (to walk, march), the Dutch rennen (to run, race), the Alemannic German ränne (to run), the German rennen (to run, race) & rinnen (to flow), the Danish rende (to run), the Swedish ränna (to run) and the Icelandic renna (to flow).  The non-Germanic cognates includes the Albanian rend (to run, run after).  The alternative spelling in Old English was ærning (act of one who or that which runs, rapid motion on foot) and that endured as a literary form until the seventeenth century.  The adjective running (that runs, capable of moving quickly) was from the fourteenth century and was from rennynge; as the present-participle adjective from the verb run, it replaced the earlier erninde, from the Old English eornende from ærning.  The meaning "rapid, hasty, done on the run" dates from circa 1300 while the sense of "continuous, carried on continually" was from the late fifteenth century.  The language is replete with phrases including “run” & “running” and run has had a most productive history: according to one source the verb alone has 645 meanings and while that definitional net may be widely cast, all agree the count is well into three figures.

The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).

Lilly Dick (b 1999) of the Australian Women’s Rugby Sevens.

The portmanteau words crunning (simultaneously running and crying) & cromiting (simultaneously running, crying & vomiting) are techniques used in strength and conditioning training by athletes seeking to improve endurance.  The basis of the idea is that at points where the mind usually persuades a runner or other athlete to pause or stop, the body is still capable of continuing and thus signals like crying or vomiting should be ignored in the manner of the phrase “passing through the pain barrier”.  The ides is “just keep going no matter what” and that is potentially dangerous so such extreme approaches should be pursued only under professional supervision.  Earlier (circa 2015), crunning was a blend of crawl + running, a type of physical training which was certainly self-descriptive and presumably best practiced on other than hard surfaces; it seems not to have caught on.  Crunning & cromiting came to wider attention when discussed by members of the Australian Women’s Rugby Sevens team which won gold at the Commonwealth Games (Birmingham, UK, July-August 2022).  When interviewed, a squad member admitted crunning & cromiting were “brutal” methods of training but admitted both were a vital part of the process by which they achieved the level of strength & fitness (mental & physical) which allowed them to succeed.

The perils of weed.

Although visually similar (spelling & symptoms), crunning & cromiting should not be confused with "scromiting" (a portmanteau of “screaming” and “vomiting”) a word coined in the early twenty-first century as verbal shorthand for cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome (CHS).  Hyperemesis is extreme, persistent nausea and vomiting during pregnancy, a kind of acute morning sickness and CHS presents in much the same way.  The recreational use of cannabis was hardly new but CHS was novel and the medical community has speculated the reaction induced only in some users may be caused either by their specific genetic differences or something added to or bred into certain strains of weed although the condition remains both rare and geographically distributed.  The long-term effects are unknown except for damage to tooth enamel caused by the stomach acid in the vomit.

The legendary Corey Bellemore.

An athletic pursuit probably sometimes not dissimilar to the exacting business of crunning & cromiting is the Beer Mile, conducted usually on a standard 400 m (¼ mile) track as a 1 mile (1.6 km) contest of both running & drinking speed.  Each of the four laps begins with the competitor drinking one can (12 fl oz (US) (355 ml)) of beer, followed by a full lap, the process repeated three times.  The rules have been defined by the governing body which also publishes the results, including the aggregates of miles covered and beers drunk.  Now a sporting institution, it has encouraged imitators and there are a number of variations, each with its own rules.  The holder of this most illustrious world record is a three-time champion, Canadian Corey Bellemore (b 1994), who set the mark of 4:28.1 on 23 October 2021.

University of Otago Medical School.

Some variations of the beer mile simply increase the volume or strength of the beer consumed and a few of these are dubbed Chunder Mile (“chunder” being circa 1950s Australia & New Zealand slang for vomiting and of disputed origin) on the basis that vomiting is more likely the more alcohol is consumed.  For some however, even this wasn’t sufficiently debauched and there were events which demanded a (cold) meat pie be enjoyed with a jug of (un-chilled) beer (a jug typically 1140 ml (38.5 fl oz (US)) at the start of each of the four laps.  Predictably, these events were most associated with orientation weeks at universities, a number still conducted as late as the 1970s and the best documented seems to have been those at the University of Otago in Dunedin, New Zealand.  Helpfully, at this time, it was the site of the country’s medical school, thereby providing students with practical experience of both symptoms and treatments for the inevitable consequences.  Whether the event was invented in Dunedin isn’t known but, given the nature of males aged 17-21 probably hasn’t much changed over the millennia, it wouldn’t be surprising to learn similar competitions, localized to suit culinary tastes, have been contested by the drunken youth of many places in centuries past.  As it was, even in Dunedin, times were changing and in 1972, the Chunder Mile was banned “…because of the dangers of asphyxiation and ruptured esophaguses.”

Coupe

Coupe (pronounced koop or koo-pey (the latter used even if spelled without the “é”)).

(1) A closed, two-door car, sometimes on a shorter wheelbase than the four-door version on which they’re based.

(2) A four-door car with a lower or more elongated, sloping roofline than the model on which it’s based.

(3) An ice cream or sherbet mixed or topped with fruit, liqueur, whipped cream etc.

(4) A glass container for serving such a dessert, usually having a stem and a wide, deep bowl (similar in shape but usually larger than a champagne coupe).

(5) As champagne coupe, a shallow, broad-bowled saucer shaped stemmed glass also often used for cocktails because of their greater stability than many a cocktail glasses.

(6) A short, four-wheeled, horse-drawn, closed carriage, usually with a single seat for two passengers and an outside seat for the driver.

(7) The end compartment in a European diligence or railroad car with seats on one side only.

(8) In commercial logging, an area of a forest or plantation where harvesting of wood is planned or has taken place.

(9) In military use, as coupe gorge (a borrowing from French (literally “cut-throat”), any position affording such advantage to an attacking formation that the troops occupying it must either surrender or be “cut to pieces”.

(10) In various sports, a cup awarded as a prize.

(11) A hairstyle (always pronounced coop) which typically features shorter sides and back with longer hair on top.

1825–1835: From the French coupé (low, short, four-wheeled, close carriage without the front seat, carrying two inside, with an outside seat for the driver (also “front compartment of a stage coach”)), a shortened form of carrosse coupé (a cut-off or shortened version of the Berlin (from Berliner) coach, modified to remove the back seat), the past participle of couper (to cut off; to cut in half), the verbal derivative of coup (blow; stroke); a doublet of cup, hive and keeve, thus the link with goblets, cups & glasses.  It was first applied to two-door automobiles with enclosed coachwork by 1897 while the Coupe de ville (or Coup de ville) dates from 1931, describing originally a car with an open driver's position and an enclosed passenger compartment.

The earlier senses (wicker basket, tub, cask) date from 1375–1425, from the Middle English, from the Anglo-French coupe & cope, from the Old French coupe, from the Medieval Latin cōpa (cask), from the Latin cūpa (cask, tub, barrel), the ultimate source of the modern “cup” (both drink vessels and bras).  The Middle English cǒupe was from the Old Saxon kûpa & côpa, from the Old High German chôfa & chuofa, again from the from the Medieval Latin cōpa from the Latin cūpa.  It described variously a large wicker basket; a dosser, a pannier; a basket, pen or enclosure for birds (a coop); a cart or sled equipped with a wicker basket for carrying manure etc; a barrel or cask for holding liquids.  The obvious descendent is the modern coop (chickens etc).  Coupe is a noun; the noun plural is coupes.

Marie Antoinette and the unrelated champagne coupe.

The “coupe” hair-style (always pronounced coop) is one which typically features shorter sides and back with longer hair on top, the modern interpretations making a distinct contrast between the shorter and longer sections, the aim being the creation of sharp lines or acute angles.  The longer hair atop can be styled in various ways (slicked back, textured, or even the messy look of a JBF.  Historically, the coupe hairstyle was associated with men's cuts but of late it’s become popular with women, attracted by the versatility, low maintenance and the adaptability to suit different face shapes, hair types and variegated coloring.  Because outside the profession, there’s no obvious link between “coupe” and hair-styles, the term “undercut” is often used instead.  Unfortunately, despite the often-repeated story, there seems little to support the claim the wide-mouthed, shallow-bowled champagne coupe was modelled on one of Marie Antoinette's (1755–1793; Queen Consort of France 1774-1792) breasts.

Harold Wilson (1916–1995; UK prime minister 1964-1970 & 1974-1976) outside 10 Downing Street with his official car, a Rover 3.5 saloon.

In automobiles, by the 1960s, the English-speaking world had (more or less) agreed a coupe was a two door car with a fixed roof and, if based on a sedan, in some way (a shorter wheelbase or a rakish roof-line) designed put a premium on style over utility.  There were hold-outs among a few UK manufacturers who insisted there were fixed head coupes (FHC) and drop head coupes (DHC), the latter described by most others as convertibles or cabriolets but mostly the term had come to be well-understood.  It was thus a surprise when Rover in 1962 displayed a “four-door coupe”, essentially their 3 Litre sedan with a lower roof-line and a few “sporty” touches such as a tachometer and a full set of gauges.  Powered by a 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) straight-six, it had been available as a four-door sedan since 1958 and had found a niche in that part of the upper middle-class market which valued smoothness and respectability over the speed and flashiness offered by the rakish Jaguars but, heavy and under-powered by comparison, even its admirers remarked on the lethargy of the thing while noting it was fast enough to over-tax the four-wheel drum brakes.  The engine did however set standards of smoothness which only the Rolls-Royce straight-sixes and the best of the various straight-eights could match but by 1959, both breeds were all but extinct so the Rover, with its by then archaic arrangement using overhead inlet and side-mounted exhaust valves had at least one unmatched virtue to offer.

Rover-BRM Gas-Turbine, Le Mans, 1965.

Although obviously influenced by the then stylish 1955 Chryslers, its conservative lines appealed to a market segment where such a thing was a virtue and reflected Rover’s image although it was a company with a history which included some genuine adventurism, their experimental turbine-engined cars in the early post-war years producing high performance, something made more startling by them being mounted in bodies using the same styling cues as the upright 3 Litre.  The company however discovered that whatever the many advantages, they suffered the same problems that would doom Chrysler’s turbine project, notably their thirst (although turbines do have a wide tolerance of fuel types) and the high costs of manufacturing because of the precision required, something hinted at by the Chrysler’s tachometer reading to 46,000 rpm while the temperature gauge was graduated to 1,700°F (930°C).  While such machinery was manageable on warships or passenger jets, to sell them to general consumers would have been too great a risk for any corporation and neither ever appeared in the showrooms although Chrysler’s research continued until 1979 and Rover co-developed a turbine race car which proved its speed and durability in several outings in the Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic.

Chop top: The Rover 3.5 Coupé (P5B).

For the public however, Rover upgraded the 3 Litre in a way which was less imaginative but highly successful, purchasing from General Motors (GM) the rights to the 3.5 litre (2.15 cubic inch), all-aluminum V8 which Buick, Oldsmobile & Pontiac had all used in their new generation of “compact” cars between 1960-1963.  For a variety of reasons, GM abandoned the project (to their later regret) and Rover embarked on their own development project, modifying the V8 to suit local conditions and the availability of components.  Remarkably, it would remain in production until 2006, used by several manufacturers as well as a legion of private ventures in capacity up to 5.0 litres (305 cubic inch) although megalomaniacs discovered that by using a mix-and-match of off-the-shelf parts, a displacement of 5.2 litres (318 cubic inch) was possible.  Lighter and more powerful than the long-serving straight-six, the V8 transformed the 3 Litre although Rover, with typical English understatement, limited themselves to changing the name to “3.5 Litre”, solving the potential of any confusion when the V8 was offered in the smaller 2000 by calling it the “3500”.

Although the factory never released one, privately some 3.5 Coupés have been converted to two-doors and there are even some cabriolets (ie drop head coupes).

Although the new engine couldn’t match the smoothness of the old, the effortless performance it imparted added to the refinement and fortunately, by the time the V8 was installed, disk brakes had been fitted and transformed by the additional power, it became an establishment favorite, used by prime-ministers and Queen Elizabeth II even long after it had been discontinued.  Even by the time the V8 version was released in 1967, it was in many ways a relic but it managed to offer such a combination of virtues that its appeal for years transcended its vintage aspects.  When the last was produced in 1973, that it was outdated and had for some time been obsolescent was denied by few but even many of them would admit it remained a satisfying drive.  One intriguing part of the tale was why, defying the conventions of the time, the low-roof variation of the four-door was called a coupé (and Rover did use the l'accent aigu (the acute accent: “é”) to ensure the “traditional pronunciation” was imposed although the Americans and others sensibly abandoned the practice).  The rakish lines, including more steeply sloped front and rear glass were much admired although the original vision had been more ambitious still, the original intention being a four-door hardtop with no central pillar.  Strangely, although the Americas and Germans managed this satisfactorily, a solution eluded Rover which had to content themselves with a thinner B-pillar.  One way or another, windows have troubled the English: (1) the “window tax” imposed on houses during the eighteenth & nineteenth centuries a constant irritant to many, (2) the squircle (in algebraic geometry "a closed quartic curve having properties intermediate between those of a square and a circle") windows used in the early de Havilland Comets found to be a contributing factor in the catastrophic structural airframe failures which doomed the thing and the reason why oval windows are used to this day (mathematicians pointing out the Comet’s original apertures were not “quartic” as some claim on the basis of them being “a square with rounded corners”, the nerds noting “quartic” means “an algebraic equation or function of the fourth degree or a curve describing such an equation or function” and (3) even by the mid 1970s, Jaguar couldn’t quite get right the sealing on the frameless windows used on the lovely “two-door” versions (1975-1978)of the Jaguar & Daimler XJ saloons (which the factory insisted were NOT a coupé, presumably to differentiate them from the long-serving (1975-1995) but considerably less lovely XJ-S (later XJS).

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche Panamera 4S four-door coupe (the factory doesn't use the designation but most others seem to), Los Angeles, 2012.

The etymology of coupe does from couper (to cut off) but the original use in the context of horse-drawn coaches referred to the platform being shortened, not lowered but others have also been inventive, Cadillac for decades offering the Coupe De Ville (they used also Coupe DeVille) and usually it was built on exactly the same platform as the Sedan De Ville.  So Rover probably felt entitled to cut where they preferred; in their case it was the roof and in the early twentieth century, the four-door coupe became a thing, the debut in 2004 of the Mercedes-Benz CLS influencing other including BMW, Porsche, Volkswagen and Audi.  Whether the moment for the style has passed will be indicated by whether the current model, the last of which will be produced in August 2023, will be replaced.