In case you hadn’t heard, I have a big showdown with Viper tomorrow. The kind of showdown where one of you gets carried off the dueling grounds in a pine box. The kind of showdown that only two over-inflated male egos could possibly think that anyone cared about. The kind of showdown that makes the O.K. Corral look like a neighborhood game of freeze-tag. Unfortunately it’s also the kind of showdown that we could both win, subjecting all of you to even more gloating and posturing in the coming week. You really should just be rooting for both of us to fail, I know I am. No. Wait, not both of us, just Viper.
On the eve of this epic battle I will be preparing in the tried and tested manner that I use to prepare for all of my races. For the very first time I am making it public so that you can copy my preparations and be as successful as I am.
The Night Before
- Lay out clothes I’ll be racing in, which tomorrow will include my lucky blue race shirt. (As seen here and here.)
- Try on race clothes.
- Look in mirror, practice winking while giving the double guns. “Who loves ya’ baby?”
- Stop before I get myself too excited.
- Check the weather.
- Drink some water.
- Put Garmin somewhere I won’t lose it so I don’t freak out.
- Print directions to race.
- Re-check starting time.
- Freak Out! “Where the hell is my Garmin?”
- Move Garmin to more conspicuous location.
- Drink some water.
- Debate whether to wear my Red Sox hat.
- Change mind 7 times.
- Debate which sunglasses to wear.
- Change mind 9 times.
- Re-check weather.
- Calculate drive time and when we need to leave.
- Re-calculate because it can’t be that early!
- Change mind one more time on Red Sox hat.
- Drink some water.
- Realize Garmin needs to be charged and plug it in.
- Look at course map and elevation.
- Plan breakfast.
- Calculate necessary pace/mile.
- Set alarm clock.
- Change alarm to later time, promise to eat breakfast in car.
- Verbalize above list to Candis ad nauseam.
- Lights out. I’m not a big believer in the whole no-boom-boom-before-big-race theory, but my wife is still sick (because she’s weak), which means that I’ll probably spend a good 15 minutes trying to convince her that the trusty old saying goes; “starve a fever, have sex with a cold.”
Race Morning
- Snooze button.
- Snooze button.
- Snoo... “Holy Crap! Look at the time, we’re going to be late!”
- PeeBrushTeethPutOnClothesDrinkWaterRunOutDoorBackCarOutOfGarage!
- Stop.
- Run back in and grab Garmin from charger.
- Pray for no speed traps on way to race.
- Be thankful of previous night’s pedantic antics.
And that, is how you prepare for a successful race. Let me know in the comments if I’m missing any preparations, because I could really use some more items to fret over tonight.
Best of luck, Viper.
Apparently you won't be wearing shoes? Or a timing chip?
ReplyDeleteBest of luck with your half marathon!
pack cowbells! Promise boys it will really be fun to wake at 5am to wait around for 4 hours while daddy runs down the mountain... they're totally fooled
ReplyDeleteROFLMAO at Nitmos! HAHAHAHAA
ReplyDeleteIt's ON, homies! Good luck, I'll check back on Monday with popcorn in hand ;-)
Don't forget the nip guards and vaseline.
ReplyDeleteyeah, i'd definitely consider wearing a blue adidas billboard to be lucky too...
ReplyDeletebest of luck, don't forget to charge the ipod
ReplyDeleteLOL LOL re: Nitmos!
ReplyDeleteBest of luck to you both. Can't wait to see the final results and who will be crying in the corner!
Carl?! Carl?! Wow, I though it would much cooler being mentioned on your blog. But Carl?! out of all the names you could have choosen i.e. Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent or Ken Adams you chose Carl, thanks buddy. This makes me want to send a message to Viper and merry band of BOOZE HOUNDS and inform him of the tequilla shot incident in Mexico.
ReplyDeleteTHANKS AGAIN BUD
CARL????
Awesome saying! Next time my wife get's a cold I hope you don't mind if I test it out... Good luck in the big race!
ReplyDeleteGood luck. you might want to remember some nip protection if you're not completely healed. That would be one long half otherwise.
ReplyDeleteWhat about your helmet?
ReplyDeleteROFLMA...oh man, perfect race prep.
ReplyDeleteGood luck tomorrow.
no no no...
ReplyDeleteTHIS is what you do on race morning.
Man, I vow not to read your blog, (yes, I can be a hater - first the whole chicking thing, then whimping out and complaining of chafing!) then you go and write this! has me spitting sports drinks out my nose! Too funny.
ReplyDeleteSigh. I guess I will have to check in again!!
Em
The agony of dial-up is so worth it just to find out what happens with the two of you.
ReplyDeleteAnd I really want Carl to come back and spill the beans on this tequila story.
Good luck!
To funny! You sound sooo ready.
ReplyDeleteI just have my shirt and socks out ~
And...
Don't forget to smile for the camera.
I will copy and paste it for future use. Thank you.
ReplyDeletegood luck on the half marathon! i, on occasion, sleep in the clothes i'll be running in...just to save myself some time on those early snoozes.
ReplyDeleteHope the race went well
ReplyDeleteIt's quiet in here... it's too quiet...
ReplyDeleteWell? Enquiring (nosy) minds want to know. Did you survive? Did the venomous Viper vanquish you and cause you to vamoose? Are there photos we can sell to the National Enquirer?
I really should have checked this list before my race ... (suspenseful, right?)
ReplyDeleteSorry I didn't check in sooner and provide any pre-race advice, but hope it went well! Can't wait to hear.
ReplyDeleteDay late, dollar short.
ReplyDeleteBut you forgot the most important pre-race ritual: the application of generous amounts of Glide to prevent nipple chafing.