Dreaming of adventure & french toast

Standing there in my sweaty shirt, jammers and running shoes. Ice taped to my right calf and a sock full of ice stuck down my jammers -- don't ask -- I watched the butter slowly melt as the skillet heated up to cooking temperature. My day had started nearly four hours earlier, at 5:30 a.m. when I got up to go to Masters.

Now, by 9:30 in the morning I had already done my own personal triathlon and was trying my best not to drip sweat on the french toast I was cooking. I was trying to get breakfast made, packed up, then get cleaned up so I could run it to Karen before she took her morning break at work. I know, kinda in the wrong order of things, but don't worry, I didn't get any sweat on breakfast ...

So there I was, cooking breakfast and nursing a groin injury and a strained calf muscle and kind of feeling sorry for myself that I was unable to train at a hundred percent when something I read a month or so ago in an article by Mark Allen popped into my head.

"For every one of you (triathletes), there are millions who dare not to dream such a grand adventure for their lives." Ever since I read that article, this sentence has stayed with me. Every time I feel like giving up in race, such as at Sunday's bike time trial, or even when I'm training and I feel like backing off or cutting my workout short, this sentence pops into my head and I think of all those who dare not dream such a grand adventure as this. Those perhaps who want to but can't because of time or money or health reasons, or those who want to but can't because they are physically unable to.

A year ago I was at Queen's Medical Center having surgery. I have chronic kidney stone problems and a couple of times it has nearly ended me (that's code for I almost died). Once I nearly bled out following a surgery a few years ago. Another time I went into anaphylactic shock from a contrast dye I was given. So I know what it is like to be unable to dream of such grand adventures. It is my hope that training for and doing triathlons will be sort of a cure-all for my own medical problems, but only time will tell.

So with breakfast made, I jumped into the shower, dressed, packed breakfast onto my moped and scooted off to Karen's work, just in time for her break. Oh, and don't tell her about the sweat, OK? And feel free to stop by for breakfast. I'll cook!