33 hours

33 hours to go

an excerpt from the Athlete Guide:
"No form of locomotion other than running, walking, or crawling is allowed."

well shit.

liquor

i should drink less at weddings:

i hate people - part 4

him: let me have a sample of one of those
me: a strawberry? i can't let you sample one of those...sorry.
him: oh. [insert significant pause] oh no. i meant that...the cookie.
me: i'm sorry. i can't let you sample a cookie either.
him: come on man. you know i'm in here every day. i take care of 'bidness'.
me: um, i'm in here every day too. [insert skeptical look]
him: oh...no...i mean here in the mall.
me: ok
him: so let me just sample that cookie. i mean, there's only one left.
me: you can buy it for $.50.
him: nah, that's all right.

riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppp

i just returned from the salon where they made my legs and arms more aerodynamic for the swim and bike sections of the race.

yes, i'm so determined to win that i'll even get waxed. yes, waxing fucking hurts. yes, i feel gay.

if it weren't for the competition between hebda, kyle, and myself, i wouldn't have done it. all sources say that at most, i'll gain about 2 minutes. realistically, it's only about 30-45 seconds. it's the 'what if' that made me do it. what if i only lost by 30 seconds? what if i didn't prepare and race as smart as possible?

i'd be pissed...that's what.

t-minus 4 days

the clock just ticked midnight and that means there are 4 days until the big show.

prepared? i think so.
confident? maybe.
competive as hell? you know it.