Monday, September 13, 2010
Yesterday was Ironman Wisconsin, and I wasn't there. I wasn't there because the race is so popular that online registration opens 364 days before race day and closes within minutes, and I didn't even try. That's because I was sitting outside a coffee shop in Manistee, Mich., unwilling to broadcast my credit card information over their free Wi-Fi connection.
I was on vacation. I had finished my book on Saturday and had finished Ironman Louisville the previous Sunday, which completed a year of off-the-charts stress, sub-par training, infinite spousal patience and dreadfully habitual sleep deprivation. I sipped my espresso and stared into space, feeling happy with what I'd accomplished (if not ecstatic with my 12-hour-plus in Louisville) and promising myself that I wouldn't put myself through another year like that ever again.
Robert Frost wrote a quick and not nearly widely enough distributed poem that goes,
Lord, forgive my little jokes on thee,
And I'll forgive thy great big one on me.
Well, don't blame me if God's overworked. I seem to be pretty self-sufficient in the great-big-one-on-me department.
Posted by Jef Mallett at 10:21 AM