Getting My Ass Handed to Me on the Bike

I have obtained the title of my blog from a liar. LIAR.

You know who you are. You are not slow on the bike. You are not less than graceful (you blew right through the Cap One gates). You enjoyed torturing me.

I am definitely getting the Gattaca surgery. Definitely. But arms and legs I think.

Stupid game.

In unrelated news, if my handicap drops to 18.4 by June 1, I can compete for the USGA amateur championship as long as I don't buy a membership to a private course (not a lot of danger on that last part).

Oh wait, instead of playing golf, a game I'm pretty good at, let's do Mighty Man. It'll be great - we'll drive for like 16 hours and I'll miss the swim time cut off. GREAT. FABULOUS.

I'm not bitter. Really. I'm just disappointed. Damn genes.

False Alarm

Turns out we didn't get into the NYC marathon. Turns out when you order products on your credit card, they have a tendency to put it on your credit card. Weird. Guess I'll have to keep track of that stuff.

So, new plan. Disney for all of 2011. While at the Cherry Blossom expo, I had a chance to peruse the hardware of all the Disney sponsored races. Screw Ironman, those are some medals. Really, they're just metals, but still.

Can I get a woo hoo?

Just think, with no swim or bike in the event, packing should be very light. Except for maybe the golf clubs.

Stupid, Part 4-9056-222

Either Anita or I got into the NYC marathon. Today I realized this was not a good idea.

Moron.