About Me

I'm starting to realize that it isn't about me.

There was a time, probably not too very long ago, when I honestly and unfailingly believed that I could affect anything and everything so as to produce my desired outcome. I was that confident, that foolish.

But anything out of control eventually crashes.

Like 7 years of way-too-young marriage that ends with private investigators and high speed car chases across the southeast...

Like my race car inching off the track in Canada Corner at Road America sending me spinning out of control at 140 mph toward an unforgiving concrete wall...

Like my unrestrained hubris...

I'm learning that no matter how much I micromanage, I have little control in most outcomes.

Yea, I can train for hours on end for months for a marathon, but I have no control when I hit 24 miles and weep like a new war widow... I can detail that Maserati daily for months, but if the battery is drained then I'll just keep on admiring her from afar...

The only thing I know for certain is one day, maybe today, maybe in a dozen or more years, I will die. Nothing else is guaranteed, and nothing I can do or say or want or feel will make anything or anyone happen. I can want it, but unless all the planets align and all the interested parties agree, wanting won't lead to having.

And that's hard to accept, but essential. If I can understand that I really have no control, then everything becomes much simpler. No worries... What will happen will happen. And that's all...

And this I now know - it isn't all about me...

a swim goal, and random musings...

It's finally training time! The mind-numbing creature called the off season, in which I had to be more dormant than I ever wanted due to my post marathon IT band issues, has finally ended. Whew!

I was supposed to have a grand kick off yesterday, but - I just couldn't wait... Remember that pre-Christmas feeling when you were a kid and are magnetically drawn to the closet where your Christmas presents are hidden? Well, that was me...

So I've been going full speed since Friday and I feel it in every muscle in my body. Oh I love that good pain feeling.

I met with swim coach Lisa yesterday (speaking of, man what an exhausting day. I got off the overnight shift at 0700, then home to gather my swim stuff and off to Atlanta (2 1/2 hour drive) to meet Lisa. She tortured me for 45 minutes, then I drove back to Birmingham and forced a 2 hour nap. I then had a 25 mile bike ride to accomplish before being back at work at 19:00. Awesome!).

Anyway, Lisa said about the funniest thing I've heard lately - "We probably only need about 2 more sessions before your stroke will be solid!" I laughed out loud... I think she was trying hard to make me feel better about panting like a dog after just a half hour of drilling... It didn't work!

I need a motivating goal for the swim. Yea, finishing the IM swim course works, but I need an intermediary. Something specific for which I can aim... I'm thinking 1 mile, 30 minutes, April 1.

Yea, I know, this is probably what a 12 year old girl can do after a 2 month layoff. But this would be infinitely faster than my 5th slowest time (overall, not in my age group) at the Music City Tri last fall. Never again will I be embarrassed like that...

There, it is said. On April 1st I will swim 1 mile in under 30 minutes. Man, that feels good to say...

So I'm going to wrap this up with some reactionary thoughts that exploded in me a few days back. It's funny how emotions play with us - toss, tumble, torture, titillate, and take us eventually to either a peak or a valley where we are left to find meaning of it all...

and now she's givin' me a little piece of her sickness...
it's 3 am and i can't sleep. you see, there's this girl...
it's always about a girl ain't it?
except this ain't just a girl, this is a
maserati ferragamo prada
with blow like ernest and
drive like cmc.

and this girl, who thinks she should be just any girl,
certainly not my girl -
circumstances are a bitch eh?
she reaches out just like i told her she anytime could
except the 1 time she did i was a supersizeme shit
i wasn't there - couldn't be -
logistically impossible,
the victim of digital fiasco.
i wanted to be but i just wasn't.
and now i am here and she's not -
she never really was -
and it is effing with me in a sleepless night kind of way.
ef

The Lay of the Land

This is the first of what hopefully will be a lengthy series in which I tell you (or, in all honesty, tell myself when I read these posts again in some imagined way distant future...) what I'm reading.

The Lay of the Land is the 3rd of a trilogy by Richard Ford, although you don't need the 1st two to appreciate this one. It's a literary edifice that examines the life of Frank Bascombe in his middle years, and the transformation that occurs as he faces mortality and realizes that, no matter how hard he resists, the events of his past are inescapable and integral to his future.

If you found philosophical identity in Fight Club, or you appreciate the reflective, timeless genius of Kris Kristofferson, you will find The Lay of the Land an entertaining and though-provoking read.

New Year's Trip Report

Well, vacation is done, and well... I need a vacation from my vacation! Whew... Man, I love my kids and all, but 10 days and 1600 miles and sleeping in 5 different places in 5 different cities, 6 days of playing lifeguard at the pool or ocean, explaining to them why the men are sleeping on the benches with newspaper covering them in the French Quarter, and C-O-N-S-T-A-N-T questions about whether they are all my kids and how do I handle it - it all starts to wear on me after awhile...

It's funny, to me and my kids alike, how people react to a young guy (I still get the - you're my doctor? do you have your driver's license yet? - questions at least once each shift) alone with 4 young kids. Everywhere we go, which is a helluva lot of places, we are asked usually not once but many times if they all are mine and why are they so well behaved. It's funny to the kids that people constantly comment because this is all they know. It's just us, it's how we roll...

There was too much trip to give a narrative of it all, but I want to hit a few high (and low) points...

We started off in Mobile, caught up with family, and went to the USS Alabama where the kids and I boarded the battleship and played like World War II sailors for an hour or two.

Then, on the way to New Orleans, I wanted to stop at my dad's cemetery; but, I sadly admit that I couldn't remember where it was and well, I felt too damn ashamed that I had forgotten to call family for help... It had been at least 5 years, maybe more, since I visited. Definitely a low point, and something about which I still feel awful...

We visited Melissa, Bruce, and Wyatt-man in New Orleans, and they took us to the French Quarter to meander and visit the aquarium. Aquarium is amazing, especially considering it was ruined by Katrina. And speaking of K, wow... N.O. is back baby! Yea, there are still houses being rebuilt, and yea, the WalMart is still boarded (heh, is that really even a bad thing?), but as far as the N.O. I know and love, the party is there.

Funny story about lunch in the Quarter at Landry's. I ordered the shrimp creole, but the server insisted that it just plain sucked. He recommended the shrimp etouffee, and I agreed. It was tasty, I'll admit, until about half-way through when - CRUNCH... Hmm. That sounded like... GLASS! Glass being ground by my teeth... I stealth-like spit my oral contents into the napkin, and yep - it was a kernel-of-corn-sized piece of glass. Except that the crunching wasn't actually the glass being ground, it was my 1st molar, the pieces of which were right there in my napkin for me to inspect.
So, the moral of the story? Don't listen to the effing servers at Landry's...

From N.O., I went minus half a tooth with the kids on to Daytona Beach, where we funned and sunned for what seemed like forever. We all had a kick-a** time doing the GYGO triathlon, although I must admit that it felt more like a boring brick and less like a true race than I wanted it too. I was hoping to get the adrenaline surge, but it just didn't happen. Hats off to Kahuna and Wil for their efforts - what a great concept is the virtual tri!

We snuck by St Augustine, THE oldest city in the US (so this is how I learned it too, although I guess it probably more correctly is the oldest city built by European settlers) and drank from the Fountain of Youth. No, I don't have any fewer wrinkles... Yet.

We were walking away from some fort built by Spain in St Augustine when Anna said a couple of her increasingly common wow-how-does-a-3-year-old-know-to-say-that- sayings. The first one was "Daddy, is the reason that you know everything because you are the daddy?" and the second, "Daddy, how did God know how to make us?" This from the same girl who last spring awoke from a long road-trip nap and said "Daddy, are we in heaven yet?" All I can say is - wow...

Savannah yesterday and for awhile today, then finally home.

Home... An internet connection that works. Something other than pizza every other meal. My gym, my pool... My bed with its layer upon layer of down ...

Even my clutter...

Ah, home... There's nothing like it anywhere...

GYGO New Year's Day Race Video

Check out this video for exclusive footage of the Get Your Geek On New Year's Triathlon in Daytona Beach, Florida. The wind was tough on the beachside bike and run course, but the TriJack troupe competed admirably. They finished to the cheers of a couple of dozen curious onlookers and one proud dad.

Happy New Year!

Well, the internet connection at the condo in Daytona Beach is less reliable than a 1996 era dial-up. What did we do before the the web?

The GYGO Tri was awesome yesterday - video will be posted when we return to reality at the end of this week.

The kids all did their prescribed 50y/1m/0.5m, with the bike and run being on the beach. The thought it way cool to ride their bikes on the beach!

Happy New Year, and I've got tons of updates coming this weekend...