Refuel, Rest, Recover...and Giggle.

A few months ago, many of us got a laugh over the "I Am Training For An Ironman" YouTube cartoon. You remember, the "you're 38 years old, you haven't had sex in 6 months, you pay big $$ for that torture, its 6 o'clock, and why the hell do you have to go home now to get some sleep?" cartoon.

Well, with less than 4 weeks until the 70.3 World Championships and about 8 weeks until the Full Ironman World Championships in Kona, the cartoon continues to echo through the house, sometimes silently in our own heads and sometimes verbalized tongue-in-cheek with a resounding echo of truth and a tad of frustration. The workouts are getting longer, the days are getting shorter, and exhaustion is more frequent. Steve and I still giggle about the one liners, but sometimes the one liners are "jabs of love" as our way of staying sane - and 'happily' married - through times of rather "insane" training.

Two weeks ago one of our dogs starting having seizures. We've all laid on the ground with her, comforted her through those confusing moments of distress, cried with her while she couldn't move, yet she found the strength to lick our tears, and wondered what her future would hold. We've gone from fear of cancer to fear of unknown. The vet put her on a barbiturate to calm her and help with her seizures. They warned us to keep the medication hidden so a "desiring human" wouldn't find it and consume it. We've had her on the medicine and hadn't thought twice about "hiding it". Certainly no one would come in our house and pop the dog drugs.

But the dog drugs haven't appeared to be working. Ginger still "faints" and has seizures when her heart rate goes up. We really didn't know how she was going to get through these daily spells. Until today. She was diagnosed with a problem with a heart valve - something medication might be able to help give her a bit more time. The vet said she would change her medicine and that she could get off the barbiturates - so we no longer need to worry about having that drug around the house - and some unsuspecting soul finding it and downing the bottle. Great news! But wait. It gets worse.

The vet has prescribed VIAGRA for her! VIAGRA!! For cryin' out loud. Has she not seen the YouTube video? Doesn't she know I'm training for an Ironman?? Doesn't she know that having VIAGRA in the house is a gazillion times worse than having the barbiturates in the house? It's a female Ironman's curse! It might even be considered an Ironman's husband's "revenge"!

VIAGRA?? Really?? "But I am an Ironman. There can be no Viagra in the house. I have to be in bed by 6. I have to sneak out of bed at 4. When I AM in bed, I have to sleep. I cannot be disturbed. I didn't say for YOU to "get up". I AM getting up - at six - not "sex"." For pete's sake. Viagra? In our house - now?!?! I've only got 8 weeks to go!

All I can hear is the Viagra TV commercial medical warning ringing in my head.... "if an erection lasts more than 7 days, consult your physician." Seven days?? Do you know all I have to fit into 7 days? Forty-five to fifty miles of running, biking about 150-160 miles, swimming 10-12k, working out about 25 hours, trying to eat 21,000 calories, trying to sleep at least 50 hours, cooking 21 meals, feeding 3 other mouths, coaching/teaching 10 hours worth of classes, writing workouts and coaching numerous clients, working with sponsors and marketing partners..."I am training for an Ironman." I don't have time for.......VIAGRA!

Now, where did I put those barbiturates??




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