About that first race...

It wasn't to be. Hours after the last post, I got through almost an entire shift at work before I started shivering, sweating and hacking up pieces of lung tissue — actually it was self-created bright yellow stuff that doesn't biodegrade when expectorated on one's patio and dried out in the sun (I know, gross as hell but that's your fault for reading). I woke up Wednesday morning feeling worse and facing one more night of work, though I felt slightly better before I headed to work.

As the night went on I felt slightly better by the hour... but not well enough to take on a half-Ironman in less than 72 hours. Wednesday at work, after consulting via electronic communications with a couple of trusted peers, I decided to pull the plug. There was no way I could get through a five-hour race at no more than 50 percent, let alone one in the projected weather for race day — 50, rainy and windy. That would have put Ironman Lake Placid in jeopardy because of the whole compounding illness thing. You know what I mean, right?

So I ended up with a spare weekend on my hand, the last free weekend in Cheyenne for the foreseeable future. Meanwhile, not only did the weather pan out as expected but they shortened the cycling leg without shortening the other two. It turned out to be a 1.2-mile swim, a 12-mile bike and a 13.1-mile run! The ride was so short that a couple of the pros wore their wetsuits on the ride to the bike-to-run transition area. If a race ever fit my skillset, this was it. I was pissed the hell off, for sure, but rebooted with a nice weekend of social activity —which I might have needed more than a race.

Thursday was low-country boil, poker and NBA conference finals. Friday was a World Cup qualifier with friends and dog at home, beer and music on the plaza, dinner and a drinkie downtown and "Prometheus." Saturday was more beer and music on the plaza, a cold foo-foo coffee drink and a birthday barbecue.

I don't remember what Sunday was but none of those days involved working out or working. It pointed out the importance of recovery, of letting the illness run its course while bombing it with a couple kinds of juice, electrolytes, vitamins and water — OK, there was some beer involved, too. The virus didn't know what hit it. And on Monday, life returned to normal with a swim in my Petri dish. I was rested and stoked, all I really needed.