History books have entire chapters
filled with nothing but lists of noteworthy men and women, each line
defining in short summary the contributions of those individuals,
some small or large thing they had done, each event leading the human
race to a brighter future, each act blazing a path for rest of us to
follow. Some were scientists, some were artists and some wrote works of literature. As a small gesture to honor a true American, a poet, a leader among leaders, a tremendous individual, here is
a quote from the towering visionary himself;
Lookit
here son, I say son, did ya see that hawk after those hens? He scared
'em! That Rhode Island Red turned white. Then blue. Rhode Island.
Red, white, and blue. That's a joke, son. A flag waver. You're built
too low. The fast ones go over your head. Ya got a hole in your
glove. I keep pitchin' 'em and you keep missin' 'em. Ya gotta keep
your eye on the ball. Eye. Ball. I almost had a gag, son. Joke, that
is.
Of course, you recognize those famous
words, spoken over a half century ago by the great Foghorn Leghorn.
I think a moment of silence is in order.
…
…
...
Last week, I was trying to get a bit of
training in that didn't involve running, so I decided to knock out
some core work. I really need core work, but its kind of
uncomfortable so I generally skip the core workout in favor of a
couple cookies. Unfortunately, I was out of cookies because I ate
them all the day before, so I was stuck with the core workout.
Instead of crunches and planks and the
other crap that hurts, I got the standup paddleboard out for my core
workout. I put the paddleboard in the lake, stood on the edge of the
bulkhead, then I made a poor decision. I make few decisions in my
life. If you don't make a decision, then you can't be wrong; That's
my motto. I think Foghorn Leghorn would like that. Refuse to
decide. I am pretty sure he would agree with that logic. Anyway, I
made a decision and it almost worked out.
The thing is, when you go paddleboarding, you have to get on the thing, so you follow the mounting
process, as agreed to and published by the International Association
of Standup Paddleboard Association. This process should be your
first choice and is in fact the most common choice to mount a
Paddleboard. Basically, you get in the water next to the
paddleboard, flop your belly up on the paddleboard, grunt out loud,
wiggle up until you have your weight balanced in the middle of the
paddleboard, grunt again, then you get on your knees, then stand up.
That's what most people do and it involves a minimum of two grunts.
If the aesthetic of that procedure eludes you, know this; You are not
alone. I find that method dissatisfying from both a visual
perspective and from an efficiency perspective. And, I find it
repugnant due to the severe lack of originality. So, I engineered
the 'new and improved' method.
This new and improved method, now
referred to by most professional paddleboarders as the 'Terminator'
is quite simple. You position the paddleboard in the lake, six inches from the
bulkhead, hold your paddle in one hand, then jump aboard. The lure
of 'The Terminator' is the simplicity, the elegance, the massively
improved athletic grace involved in getting on a paddleboard.
Admittedly, it's just a shade more difficult to pull off.
My dog must have moved the paddleboard
between the time I jumped and when I landed. I think that is the
case because right after I deployed my 'Terminator', my
left shoulder hit the dog when I fell. He must have been a bit
groggy from when I landed on him because he didn't recognize me for
about ten seconds. I mean, why else would he bite me? That dog
loves me. My shoulder where I landed on the dog only hurt for a
while. Maybe a couple days, tops. Not a big deal. The bleeding
from the dog bite stopped right away, so that worked out too.
See, when you are training for a
triathlon, something always hurts. Some of the pain is superficial
and you need to ignore it. It's not a big deal. It's the other
stuff that causes the most trouble. The real injuries are a concern
and need a little attention. In this case, the bigger problem was my
left foot. Its been four days and the foot is a dark blue color,
sort of the same color as the LA Lakers away jerseys. The Lakers
home jerseys are yellow. My foot is definitely an away jersey color.
Now, I can barely walk without whining
like a schoolgirl. I don't know what happened, but the left foot
must have been caught under a rock or something between the time when
I fell on the dog and he bit me. I don't want to go to a doctor
because that would lead to a full leg cast, which might slow me down
in Ironman Lake Stevens, fifteen days hence.
If the human imperative is the first
and best purpose of our lives, what ancillary function do our our
other pursuits serve? What value do we realize by training for a
triathlon? Notice, I didn't say 'competing' in a triathlon. The
numerical probability of me participating in Lake Stevens is in the
single digits right now. Yesterday, I think I was somewhere around
a six percent chance of hearing the starters cannon. Today, maybe
eight percent, but that extra two percent isn't due to a great
improvement in my podiatrianic health. I watched an Ironman training
video so I will feel guilty if I don't show up.
It sucks. It Sucks Bigtime. I don't face my
troubles. I never have. Ignore them and half of them just fade
away. I am hoping I can walk sometime in the next two weeks.
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