Sunday, June 16, 2013

I have been dealing with a lot of personal issues recently and while that is no excuse for my lack of blogging productivity, it is the extent of my self-pity repertoire.  I wish now that I had something witty to say here to more fully rationalize my bloglessness, but I don’t seem to have anything worthy to put forth.   I got nothing.

My employer, who I believe wishes not to receive attribution here, has started a fitness program and I seem to be participating in this contest, although I think that my participation was agreed to under duress.   See, if I exercise enough, I get a hundred bucks.  I need to walk 12000 steps a day for two months, then I get a hundred bucks.  I couldn’t walk away from that bonanza.

 Ya, I know, I didn’t believe it either when I read it, but there it is.  12000 steps a day.  I have ironman AZ coming up in about 5 months.  To train for an IM event, I knock out 12000 steps before lunch.  This should be cake.

Last week, I swam, ran, biked, lifted, ran again, ran again, swam again and hiked.  Then this morning I went to spin.  That’s great but I feel like crap.  My legs feel like piles of goo.  If I slow down, I won’t end up where I need to be, if I keep going, I will feel like crap and if I pick up the  pace I will be injured like a a crossfit victim.  (there is a joke there, if you need me to esplain it, it wont be funny).  Anyway, I am mentally willing, but physically unable.  I blame my, training partners, they don’t support me emotionally.  I gotta blame somebody.

Last Saturday, I went on a hike with four teenagers and nine adults.  The teenagers told the truth, the adults lied.   It was a six mile hike up this mountain.  We used ropes and climbing techniques that belong on Mount Everest.  It was straight up.  

Like I said, the kids told the truth.  They ran up the hill and wondered when the hard stuff was going to start.  For them it was no big deal.  The adults all lied.  They looked at each other and smiled, as if to say ‘this isn’t hard’ and ‘what is wrong with you losers?  This is cake.’ I didn’t lie, I told the truth.  I soaked my tshirt with sweat in the first three minutes.  That sweat was truth.  I know my truth.


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