Yet another Gonzo race, what's wrong with me?

Raoul Duke: "Some kind of. . . . Well, electric snake coming straight at us."
Dr Gonzo: "Shoot it."
Raoul Duke: "Not yet, I want to study it's habits."
-Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

The Sherb School of Self Motivaton

With my Half Ironman Triathlon coming up this weekend (See Why Sherb is a Moron, 8/18/06) I sent Arlo the below email to which he replied, "You really know how to motivate yourself, Sherb."

EMAIL TO ARLO:

Just for kicks I entered "triathlon death" in the ol' search
engine. You don't have to click on the links, nothing special.

56 y/o heart attack during swim:
story 1

49 y/o heart attack during run:
story 2

53 y/o body pulled from water, drowning:
story 3

Lots of other stuff about deaths caused by dehydration and
hyponatremia during marathons and tris as well.

Sure, these guys were all "old" but I'm sure they were all on
top of their game......at least until that "Oh shit. This ain't a good
feeling" moment.

Return to Innocence

I'll be brief because I've got a shitload of work to do here at the office and because I probably shouldn't be making blog entries at the office. It might be frowned upon or something. I wonder what the office policy on Greco-Roman wrestling is?

Regarding my last entry, a few days ago I found myself trying to balance myself while walking along a curb. Much to my surprise I had a huge child-like grin on my face. I'd highly recommend it to others. Tonight I'm going to try avoiding stepping on any cracks. Guess it's never too late to be a child.

On a side note, I've recently requested that my office purchase me a Scooby Doo flashlight.

The Condemned Man

I feel as though I'm about to be beheaded. Down on my knees, arms tightly bound behind my back with thick hemp rope that cuts deeply into my wrists. I'm sitting back on my heals wearing nothing but loose pajama like pants. My chest parallel to the ground, my head down, waiting for the final blow to fall.

Too many sleepless nights. How many has it been at this point? A dozen? I try to sleep, I crawl into bed each and every night with the hope that tonight will be the night. If I'm lucky, two or three uninterrupted hours of sleep. More likely than not it's an hour on an hour off. There are nights I'm in such a delusional fog I don't even know if I sleep at all. The alarm just brings me from one level of consciousness to another.

I stare out the window at the street below contemplating life and death, sickness and health, love and hate. I yearn for a return to innocence. To be able to view things as a child again, absent any judgment. Where life isn't a matter of being right or wrong and things aren't so black or white. To be able to see life's gifts with fresh eyes and great amazement again. To see hope and possibility in anything and everything....