Next year is going to immerse every US citizen in a world of hurt. So I thought I’d try and distract myself from all of that by immersing myself in a world of real hurt.
Yes, that’s right, for those of you not in the US, the country is heading into the silly season. We’re going to have to endure the painful idiocy of the Republican Primary process, and the painful idiocy of the absence of a Democratic Primary process (I can’t be the only independent re-thinking the whole Obama/Clinton thing in light of subsequent events). So what’s the asnwer? Simple: sign up for an Ironman.
So yesterday I made it official. I, along with my dear partner-in-life-crime, will be
racing in competing in trying to finish the Rev 3 Iron Distance even at Cedar Point Ohio, on September 9, 2012.
So far, I’m ahead of my training when compared with last year. I haven’t been running. Nor have I been to the pool since. . .well, let’s just drop that line of inquiry, shall we? I still have a bunch of “interesting” painful twinges from taking a hard spill off the bike last week.
I have, however, had my first Ironman (and yes, I know that I’m probably violating numerous intellectual property laws by referring to a non-branded Iron distance race as Ironman, but WTC can suck it) anxiety dream!
So, what did this dream look like? Well, there was the disturbing fact that the almost completely flat course at Cedar Point had been replaced by one in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. (Why the Canadian Rockies? Because those socialist Rockies are obviously much more anxiety-inducing for anyone in the US than good ol’ American Rockies). But that was OK, because at least I had my mountain bike. Of course, the thick layer of rust on the chain was a bit of a concern. . . As was the fact that every man and woman around me seemed to have achieved a negative body fat percentage. That was when I saw the sign:
It is going to be a long year. But then isn’t it always?