On Monday night, after returning from the race weekend, we had a few things to do.
First, we picked up Boss from his weekend away Camp Schaller. The Schaller’s are Chris’ aunt and uncle; they had begged politely to care for little Boss while we were away and after a careful screening process and a bit of protest from Grandma Janet we said ok. When we arrived I will admit I was a bit concerned about his care. Boss was sitting in their front yard tethered to a piece of laundry line cord – and he smelled like Pert. Turns out that his leash has been forgotten somewhere so there my dog was tied up like a hillbilly and dragging a 20 foot cord around and he had gotten into some animal poo so he needed a bath. All in all Boss was well taken care of and came back exhausted after a weekend of crazy laps in their yard, playing with neighbor kids and hanging out with Romeo the squirrel killing Jack Russell Terrier that lives next door.
After picking up Boss, we decided to make a quick run to the grocery store. Mostly we just like driving around with Boss in the car and then like to walk away from the car to see him pop up in the front window looking desperately for us. What can I say. Post-race week and life can get pretty boring around these parts so we have to make our fun in other ways. So we went to the store and besides I wanted cereal for dinner. I know it’s a lousy processed dinner but sometimes it tastes so good. Chris headed off to find his own form of dinner. When we met at the checkout lane, I had my cereal and he had this:
A loaf of Italian bread
Two gallons of chocolate ice cream; one extra creamy, one plain
A piece of chocolate cake
A package of small steak
A pound of bacon
I couldn’t help myself. I'm calling this dinner out.
“THIS is what you want for dinner?”
I am looking at the items again hoping that I missed something. SOMETHING from the food group of wholesome, green and mildly NUTRITIOUS.
“What?” he said.
I’m thrown off by the fact that he walked all around the store – literally hundreds maybe thousands of square feet of any food you’d like and he comes up with…this.
“Chris you are going to eat bacon and ice cream for dinner?”
The man checking us out is laughing and shaking his head. I am waiting for a response from Chris, some justification of how on the good earth this is right. HOW.
Chris tells me that bacon is good. And the ice cream was buy one get one free.
Meanwhile, the checkout man has decided to add his two cents.
“If the man wants bacon for dinner, let the man have his meat.”
Who asked you. And besides are bacon loving men buy one get one free tonight? We purchase the catastrophe that Chris was calling his dinner and head home. The house smells like meat and there are chocolate crumbs on Chris’ mouth.
Meanwhile I am on my second, maybe third bowl of cereal. More milk, more cereal, more cereal, more milk. I am talking online with Jennifer. When I told Jennifer that Chris was eating bacon and ice cream for dinner on Monday night she said “good, he earned it”. Jen, I don’t want my house smelling like bacon all week. A little help here?
But she’s right he did earn it and around him there is that I am going to Kona glow. Around me there is that oh how I wish I was going to Kona glow but I realize being in the major leagues now it will take me another…8 years. So instead I will unfortunately have to take a Hawaiian vacation in October. To spectate. Boo hoo. Cry me a freakin' hot lava river. But I’m sure not racing there will be a huge relief – plus I’ll be able to eat those giant cinnamon rolls at Lava Java and drink Buckets of Fire all week without worrying about how it will affect my race.
And I’ll get to do lots of training out there. I’ll ride out towards Hawi with a headwind, turn around and find the winds shifted so I’ll call Chris from the airport for a rescue. When I hitch a ride back with someone else instead, I’ll pop out of the car window going down Alii Drive with a can of Coors Light while shouting HUZZAH at Chris who will probably be waiting in some neverending bike check in line.
Not that Chris did this to me two years ago or anything.
Yes, I’ll be spending my days lounging at Lava Java with no worries of registration, special needs bags, wind, heat or sun. Instead, I am going to live the island high life. And I will be surrounded by my own 10 person entourage. They will rope off a table in the corner of Lava Java just for me. I will hire someone just to walk around with my bike. And if he can clear customs, I’ll hire someone to walk around with my dog. I will be accepting applications for Sherpas, groupies, dog nannies, bike walkers and coffee cup handlers to accompany me.
Chris’ parents are also planning to go. I think they were ready to try to qualify themselves – they enjoyed it so much last year. Rumor has it Chris’ boss will even be there. Will there even be room for me? I might have to apply to be someone else’s Sherpa just to have a place to stay. Speaking of sherpas…
I’m calling him out.
You are being paged. Your services are required – 50 percent of them as competitor Sherpa duty, the other 50 percent as my training slave; to pull me on the Queen K when it’s windy, to bring me water during runs in the energy lab, to act as deterrent shark bait when I swim in the bay. New responsibility added this year – bringing Chris clean shorts if need be.
Good times, good memories. I can hardly wait. All I have to do is board a plane and bring a grass skirt. There will be no centuries, no long runs, no mega swims for me. But honestly that’s the fun part. Doing the race – that’s the end of an exciting journey on a very long day. Then again, I just remembered the Dairyland Dare. And the Big Shoulders swim. And the 20 milers on the path. Scratch that – I think I’ll enjoy my spectating duties and having a Bucket of Fire in my hand.
Better to have a Bucket of Fire in my hand than in my pants, eh Chris?
I'm still a little bitter about my race shorts...