Ring Ring. Ring Ring.
"Hello."
"Hey Jeff, how ya feelin?"
"Commodore I was just gonna call you. Come down here, were getting our tattoo's right down the street from your club. Dan's on the table. Take University...."
A little later, all my training partners, a couple of wifes and myself all sat around an outdoor table eating pizza and laughing and joking as each one had their body worked on next door. I watched with beaming pride and a little jealousy as they emerged onto the shaded street a clear plastic wrap protector around a freshly engraved tattoo.
My partners were finally relaxed. The bill for hundreds of training hours finally paid in full. The near future did not have a looming deadline or monumental never-before-attempted feat. Ahead of them was just training for the love of the sport and to help me reach my goal of Ironman finisher like I helped them.
The Machine, aka Jeff, became a USAT Level 1 coach in March and plans to fix many of the mistakes we made in training. My other partners; Big John and Hardcore, even San Deigo Dan, all tell me they have information to impart but its still to close to express it well. Yet they have already conveyed so much by their actions on the course and by their atittude the day after.
It makes me think whimsically of November 5th, the day I and many of my blogging partners will have a similiar mark of pride placed on our bodies still healing from a 140.6 miles of Ironman the day before. Too sore to move fast, but not feeling the pain. Dinner at a Mexican place and margaritas flowing. Everyone wearing their 'Finishers' Shirt.
Kings and Queens of the world.
"Hello."
"Hey Jeff, how ya feelin?"
"Commodore I was just gonna call you. Come down here, were getting our tattoo's right down the street from your club. Dan's on the table. Take University...."
A little later, all my training partners, a couple of wifes and myself all sat around an outdoor table eating pizza and laughing and joking as each one had their body worked on next door. I watched with beaming pride and a little jealousy as they emerged onto the shaded street a clear plastic wrap protector around a freshly engraved tattoo.
My partners were finally relaxed. The bill for hundreds of training hours finally paid in full. The near future did not have a looming deadline or monumental never-before-attempted feat. Ahead of them was just training for the love of the sport and to help me reach my goal of Ironman finisher like I helped them.
The Machine, aka Jeff, became a USAT Level 1 coach in March and plans to fix many of the mistakes we made in training. My other partners; Big John and Hardcore, even San Deigo Dan, all tell me they have information to impart but its still to close to express it well. Yet they have already conveyed so much by their actions on the course and by their atittude the day after.
It makes me think whimsically of November 5th, the day I and many of my blogging partners will have a similiar mark of pride placed on our bodies still healing from a 140.6 miles of Ironman the day before. Too sore to move fast, but not feeling the pain. Dinner at a Mexican place and margaritas flowing. Everyone wearing their 'Finishers' Shirt.
Kings and Queens of the world.
7 comments:
Woo! We want PHOTOS!!!!!!!!!!
Surely, it's one tattoo that you'll have that you won't regret when you get older! I got inked myself over this winter.
I'm going to try and make it down to Florida this winter to come cheer you guys on.
If I ever DO get a tatoo...it will be the IM symbol. (But in a discreet place...tatoos on 50+ year olds are probably not meant to be seen by all!)
Ouch..that's all I have to say..ouch!!!!!!!
I want one too..i ain't a tatoo person but a IM tatoo for sure.... :) they need a tatoo booth at the finish line.
well, you can put me down for the margs and the mex fo sho!
I'm with NancyToby, enough talk already, where are the pics? :)
Must confess I am too much of a chicken to ever get a tattoo...
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