To taunt a mockingbird

In the spirit of noticing the humor in life....

This morning as I was walking Pippa we got dive-bombed by a very angry mockingbird. She seemed annoyed with me, but truly furious with Pippa. She dived down behind her, getting closer and closer to Pippa's backside, maybe 4 or 5 times - all the while Pippa was completely oblivious. Finally- contact! The mockingbird goosed her right on the nubbin. Pippa jumped up in the air with a little yelp and then plunked her butt down hard on the pavement.

This is especially funny because, since she got her short summer haircut, Pippa has been jumping at unexpected breezes in and around her back door. She didn't imagine this one, though- I saw the culprit myself.

So, today I am grateful for a good laugh before I even properly woke up.

The video below is not of Pippa, but I included it as evidence so she can feel better that she's not the only one.

But I will be an Ironman

For a better idea of the ridiculousness of this activity, please see this handy informational video. The fact that I find it motivating is probably just one of many signs that I have indeed succumbed to Ironmadness.

Ironlove

Ron and I are training to compete in the 2011 Ironman triathlon in Cozumel, Mexico. The race is November 27- the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

Triathlons are always comprised of 3 events: swimming, biking, and running. They are always held in that sequence in order to decrease the odds that  your fatigue will result in your untimely demise. 

The name "Ironman" refers to a triathlon of a specific length. There are 3 categories of triathlons: sprints (short); olympic (medium); and Ironman (fucking long). 

Specifically, an Ironman is a 2.4 mile swim, then a 112 mile bike, topped off with a 26.2 mile marathon. You have 17 hours to complete the race- it starts at 7am and you have to be off the course by midnight. Technically, Ironman is a brand, like Kleenex or Snuggie.

Competing in this thing was not my idea. It is a crazy idea and it was, initially, Ron's crazy idea. But it's our friend Katy's fault. Last summer we watched her finish Ironman Lake Placid, and we were both blown away by the achievement.

Ron knew from the minute we left that he wanted to do this; I was not so sure. It wasn't that I wasn't sure I could do it- I hope I won't jinx myself completely if I admit that I have always been sure I could.

But training for this event eats your life. From the start, though, I knew that if Ron were doing it, I'd have to do it too. First, because I had no intention of becoming an Ironman widow, and second because I knew I would regret not sharing this experience with him.

So we're 6 months into a 12 month training, which means we're 6 months from the finish line as well. I should have been doing this from the start, but I hereby swear to put my tired little fingers to the keyboard and document this process 'till death or jellyfish do us part.