Tuesday, October 18, 2011


I have never been a fan of “lists”. I don’t make them. I don’t follow them. And I most definitely pay for it. Sometimes. Okay, more often than not in my old age.

The sport of triathlon requires lists. There’s more than just putting on your running shoes and waiting for the gun to go off. You have to have your stuff for the swim. Your stuff for the bike. Your bike. Your running stuff. All your eats and drinks. Your pre and post race entertainment. And apparently for the out of town events you need to book a hotel room way in advance.

For those of you that know me or have read my Ragnar recaps, you know that I tend to wait til the last minute and may or may not forget things. I may have had to take Van 2 back to my house 3 times to get some things. They were important things though like an ipod, a power converter for Christmas lights, Ax and a costume or two.

I was reminded recently that I needed to make a list for the Great Floridian. Lists are no fun. I know, I know. Lists are less dramatic and just lay there on the table and keep to themselves. That’s why I don’t like lists. Lists can’t talk to you. Can’t listen to you. Can’t encourage you. Can’t sit across from you at dinner. Can’t tuck you in the night before a big race. Can’t make sure you don’t oversleep the morning of one of the most important and longest races of your life. Can’t make you coffee. Can’t keep you focused before the race. And they can’t give you a good luck kiss on the cheek while at the waters edge.

Yesterday before my long swim, I was talking to Jan and I told her that all the hotels in Clermont were sold out. “You haven’t booked a room! I told you a long time ago that you should book a room. You need an assistant. I know how you are and lists just won’t be enough. You need to start packing today when you get home.” I agree on everything she said. Especially the assistant part. I do need an assistant.

I was going to get my girls to assist but when I reminded them of when the race was I heard this. “Daddy it is homecoming that night. Are you kidding? This is my last one and her first one.” Well you see where I ranked with them. They are going to show up later the next morning.

I am asking for the services of someone to be an assistant for less than 24 hours. The tucking in and kiss on the cheek are optional. You will have an all expense paid trip to Clermont. Dinner, breakfast and the race festivities. You could even do your long run that Saturday morning if need be. There are no contracts or waivers to sign. If interested please consult your physician, attorney or cleric before contacting me. Viewing everything live is probably better than reading it in a book.

1 comment:

  1. The French cyclists call this a soigneur. I say YOYO. Merde, ce n’est pas bon?