I've been racing sailboats a lot so far this season. I can tell by the calluses on my hands and the Popeye-ian size of my forearms. As a child, I used to have nightmares about what truly lie within the socket of his un-"Popped" eye. Sometimes it was a fleshy pit and other times it was an single rusty bolt. What the hell?
This was a good week for running, interrupted on Friday and Saturday by racing in the Mill's Trophy Race from the Toledo Harbor Light to the infamous Middle Bass Island . The race begins on Friday evening at about 6pm and ends around 1am for the fastest boats and sometimes not until the following morning for other boats, depending on the weather. This year, we finished around 2:30am. The post-race celebrating does not end until sometime on Saturday evening/Sunday morning, depending on the fortitude of your liver. I wrapped up around midday on Saturday. We raced as well as our boat would allow, with an avoidable tack as our only major tactical error. The conditions were perfect and our crew was in high spirits for the duration. It's a beautiful thing when you can get together with your dad, 2 cousins and a 2nd cousin (we roll deep out here in Michigan) and everyone has a great time while both kicking ass and kicking back a frightening amount of alcohol.
Sunday was a nice long run on the Potowatomi Trail. About 18 miles, at what I will call my "trail marathon pace" ...or something like 8:00/mile. I am concerned that I may have the start of a neuroma in my left foot. That's what I get for scaling back my weekly mileage. So there.
60 on the week. With the exception of a bacon chocolate chip cookie (that's a cookie worth putting a ring on) and a doughnut, this week has seen a welcome change in the diet. I now eat roasted lamb straight from spit and drink gallons of whale's blood, freshly harpooned (obvs).
I hope that anyone reading this is also enjoying a tall, cool glass of whale's blood and sleeps soundly knowing that Popeye's squint hides nothing more than another healthy eye (albeit with untanned lids).
Love,
Patrick.
2 comments:
I love your posts, I just never know what they will bring. So, thank you!
All of these talents and here I just thought you were a runner...also a seaman.
Bacon chocolate chip cookie, I won't tell my husband of such things for fear that he'll leave me.
Hope that your foot isn't as you fear.
"it's always better with bacon" has been a personal slogan of mine for a long time. i even have it engraved on the headboard of my bed.
Post a Comment