I've always wanted to participate in a marathon/triathlon - part 2

It's 10pm on a sunday night as I write this, where I nest in the comfort of a laptop and dry clothes and a warm lamp, on a sunday that began with enough rain to sink noah's ark, where I began my day at the starting line of the Tour de L'île amongst thousands of other colorful bikes, beachballs bouncing through the crowd, happy people singing along to Olé Olé but chanting soleil, soleil soleil soleil instead.

It was shitty weather. Not once did the rain stop, but we were always greeted by volunteers who either cheered, shouted, yelled, blew horns, rang bells, or just stood there. It sort of amazed me. You could have taken a look at the sky in the morning, said fuck it and stayed home. But you didn't. You showed up to watch tens of thousands of strangers cycle by. And most of us appreciated that so we waved back.

By the time we were circling Lafarge quarry I was pretty much high on endorphins. I was riding full speed down a slope with a huge smile on my face, just really smiling for no reason. I thought the quarry was the breathtaking because I was so exultingly joyful. Trees cleared to my left and all of a sudden I was looking at layers and layers of dirt and stone of a big hole in the earth. We took a few more turns and descended on another path through the quarry. You know that perfect moment where you don't have to worry about braking for the person in front of you because everyone around you is also riding full speed ahead so the distance between everyone just remains about the same? That moment lasted like, five whole minutes. It was glorious.

The spoils of my victory! Milk and two free passes for the metro at the finish line. I waited in hypothermia-inducing conditions for a chance to spin the wheel and win something from STM. My shoes were sloshing and my fingers were carrot sticks. And my knees! Oh how they ache. But I finished! 50km! 3 hours! I can do anything now!

Montreal spoils me, three splendid hours of a day, stolen away from all the cars, all the trucks, all the buses, all the minivans all just for the leisure of a bike ride.

I've always wanted to participate in a marathon/triathlon

I've always wanted to take part in a marathon, or a triathlon. Technically, I've always wanted to be at a point where I was physically fit enough to do it and not pass out halfway.
Being incredibly unfit, I thought I'd approach this one step at a time. Since summer is just around the corner, there would be a gazillion benefit runs, walks, and rides I could start myself off with.

Et, voilà! La carte de ma première course:

The tour de l'Ile (Tour of the island) begins at 9.15am on June 6th, 2010, and the total distance is 50km. I have about less than 5 weeks to start training myself. We are gonna get "bibs" for it! Bibs! It's official! Bibs do sound infantile though. Hm.

I took my bike out and wiped it down, and discovered that one of my tyres was bent. :( Obstacle 1!

22, not 20.

I've always expected that change would come on special occasions. I have no idea why I've never questioned it. Like, my 20th birthday, 20, what a nice round number, maybe I'll lose those pounds. Or by Jan 1st, I'll have quit that vice. Something like that. Basically I just expected something awesome to happen to me. Waiting. Waiting for something to wake my life out of its dormant state. Man, this feels ridiculous to type.

One day, ironically like any other, I realized, why wait. Why not take charge of my own life. Why hesitate. Why not just do it. I'm in my immortal twenties but I feel like I'm living my golden years. Where is the spontaneity? joie de vivre? Then I decided I would rather live with anything else other than regret.

So this year has been spent fulfilling things from the "I've always wanted to..." list. Or the "Why don't I just..." list. Or the "Just do it, stop giving excuses" list. Just me writing a Yes Man monologue or something. Ha ha.

Henceforth begins the chronicling of my life, doing what I've always wanted to do.