Misery Loves Company

A race report will follow in a few days after some of the the fog clears and my cankles recede. The short story is that I qualified for the Ironman World Championship in Hawaii by finishing second in my age group (two of us qualified). Kona!

Speaking of stories…a quick one from the race.

As I was running the marathon in hell (defined as 90 plus degree weather, 90 plus percentage humidity and a UV index equal to Chernobyl) I noticed a bike pull up to me. The rider asked me to make way for the pro that was running just behind me. The following conversation ensued (names have been hidden to protect the jaded and bitter):

Me: Nice work (insert pros name)
Pro: I am sorry, do I know you?
Me: No.
Pro: This is f@$&ing awful.
Me: No f@$&ing kidding.

I retold the story of our interaction at dinner after the race. The next day, we attended the awards banquet and I was honored to stand on the podium. It turns out the pro recognized me and we met afterwards where I found out that the pro retold the same story at dinner with friends.

I am thankful that the pro had a sense of humor…

No Replies to "Misery Loves Company"