Yesterday, while running my laps around the Baguio Hospital Parking Lot, I thought about an old Runner's World article I had recently read only a few days earlier that detailed Lance Armstrong's ex, Kristin, and her dream of finishing the New York City Marathon, and I started to think about Armstrong, and his retirement from cycling, and what an ultra-competitive guy like him actually does when he can no longer do what he always did, and I thought about that other excellent American cyclist from the eighties, Greg LeMond, and how he went into stock car racing, and I started to wonder if Armstrong would ever do something like that, or even if he would ever run a marathon, and take the risk of not only being possibly, in this event, average, but conceivably even finishing in a worse place and time than his ex-wife, and then I came home, washed, flipped on CNN, waited for Larry King, and saw the sportscaster announce that Lance Armstrong had decided he would run in this fall's New York City Marathon.
I don't know about you, and I don't know what this means, if anything, but it is fucking weird, is what I'm saying.
2 comments:
When that happens you almost want to call someone up and tell them. But of course when you do they say something like "How's work going?” signalling they don't really care that you've just had what to you seems like a physic experience.
When I read your last sentence I laughed out loud at my desk which prompted questions from co-workers seeking to share in the laughter.
Is it safe?
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