No…I don’t mean the movie, although I loved it and have zero idea why in the world it took me so long to finally watch it from start to finish.
(And yes, I’m back from the hiatus known as “Seriously, what was I thinking going on vacation with two 15 year-olds?” More on that special trip later).
In the meantime, in the spirit of needing a quick fix today I will a) post this and b) explain why it was ridiculous to think it a good idea to invite an Iron Man on a run.
Swim, Bike, Run. All reasonably hard work individually, so why anyone in their right mind would set out to do them all at once is beyond me. (Yes, I’m going to do one someday but no matter now). Many people tell me that “Marathoners are crazy!” and on some level they may have a point. So imagine what it says when a marathoner thinks an Iron Man is crazy.
Actually no, if I’m honest, not crazy. Crazy good. Crazy in shape. Crazy athletes that make the rest of us pretend athletes wish we were cut of the same genetically altered cloth.
How far do you want to go? I ask innocently.
Oh, like 2 miles…I am sooooo ick about running. Honestly. Not my thing.
Fine. 6 it is. That’s what an Iron Man really means when they say 2.
Let’s start out super slow because I kinda want to pick it up on the way back.
Now I’ve run with this sandbagger before so I’m ready to puke already at what “pick it up on the way back” actually means. I know the strength. And I know sandbagger also knows and is loving every minute of this reverse psychology session.
The Garmin starts up. Yep. Yeppers. Exactly what I expected. The first 4 miles were anything but what a normal human being would consider slow. As I’m gasping for air, I am also looking at this gazelle-like creature who will readily and honestly admit that they are a much better swimmer and biker than runner. Running is kind of like an afterthought. A necessary evil in the Iron Man trifecta.
Some people just have a way of pissing you off unintentionally. Yet, you can’t really get mad at an inspiration. All you can do is sing “A-nni-hi-la-tion” to the tune of Rod Stewart’s “Infatuation” in your head on the way back by yourself while Iron Man is picking it up.