Trim Tram Donovan

My Latest Cross to Bear

There are two types of employees in vehicle repair shops. The guys who actually fix the cars (we'll call them 'techs') and the meet & greet guys (we'll call them 'the know-it-alls'). When I visit a garage, I typically want to talk to the techs because they won't give you crap and just tell you what you need done. The Know-It-Alls have learned a couple things about cars from the techs or they were techs who didn't like working in a garage. Both types of Know-It-Alls believe that they have a right to deliver lectures on your car.

The Know-It-All who was administering my tire troubles was well groomed with a blonde hair and blue eyes pedigree that would make Hitler tee-hee in delight. As he stapled my papers together, he continued his lecture to me about my axle problems. "Do you understand what a C.V. joint is?"

I was almost afraid to answer.

"You put that baby in four-by this winter and it could fall apart. You let it go longer, it will fall apart completely and you'll be walking in the snow. Anyways, you drove this thing on flat for a while. We replaced it. The other tires weren't bald enough to replace but let me warn you that driving on bald tires are a recipe for an accident. If anyone ever plows through a stop sign and get into an accident with me, I'll be reaching for this thing (tire tread measurement tool gets pulled out of his breast pocket) and see how bald they are."

He holds it about three inches from my nose.

He's right about me driving on a flat tire though. It was a slow leak that I ignored and would fill up with air again and again. I was just glad it was fixed and I wouldn't have to endure this all over again anytime soon.

Today, I woke up to find one front tire a little flat. It has that look that it's gonna be slow leak as well. I got to the local gas station and filled it up. I left to drop off Franny at Camp Bead Bonanza (this week is all about crafting with beads). All I could do is think about how I'll soon have to visit that damn place again.

As my car flew down county highway M, we were quickly approaching a man in a day glow vest carrying something on his back while strolling up the road. As I got closer and closer, I see he has ten foot cross on his back. He sees my lone car on the road and as I pass him, he smiles and waves to me.

I gave a short wave but had to get Franny to Camp Bead Bonanza. My tire seems to be losing air again.

All That's Left of the Lemongrass

The snow melting and the heat pouring on me, I'm only reminded of last year. As it got warmer, I only worked harder to insure my preparations were in order for Ironman Wisconsin. The summer's approach made me afraid that the summer was getting closer to ending as well. This odd conflict was pretty typical of the madness of my training for Ironman. I grabbed onto Hope like it was the one thing that would help me finish the swim in the 2007 Ironman Wisconsin.

There was some work involved with this race, too. Hope wasn't the only thing I could utilize. Swim instructions and homework to be done in the pool at least three times a week as well as running speedwork peppered with short, strong bike rides. Weekends were spent biking dozens of miles up dozens of hills and running for hours at a time. All the work was done in preparation for Ironman.

After the Ironman event was over, winter quickly came to Madison. Snow covered everything in time for Christmas. The snow totals kept growing and shoveling became a weekly if not daily chore. Piles of snow would accumulate on corners of driveways and intersections. The shopping malls and schools took their large parking lots and cleared the snow away, then pile it in the corner of the lot. The piles became small mountains. The wind was treacherous and temperatures stayed in single digits. Complaining about the snow was very, very common since so many people were so miserable.

More than anything, the extraordinarily bad weather made it easy for me to find excuses not workout. With no races scheduled, I did not attend indoor cycling classes nor did I feel obligated to run outside. I left my gym so I didn't really have a pool to swim. My attitude for working out went from my main focus to "that thing I did last year to prepare for Ironman". My attitude has changed about working out.

More than anything, I keep changing my attitude toward my performance on September 8, 2007. The sweeping words I get from friends and acquaintances are very positive. They say things like, "I would never been able to even get to the starting line" or "I give you credit for even getting in that water". I have resolved only a few things about the race.

I can only compare it to Uncle Rico's ruminations in "Napoleon Dynamite" when he reflects on his football days. Looking off, he would say things like, "How much you wanna bet I can throw football over those mountains? Yeah, Coach woulda put me in the fourth quarter, we woulda been state champions. No doubt. No doubt in my mind." I envisioned myself creating victory where there was nothing. The vision of crossing the finish line was so real that it has become almost a joke to reflect on those visions.

With all that aside, I still live in a state of hope and despair. Those ghosts follow me when I discuss Ironman or triathlons.

Whether I like it or not, they follow me.

I turned on the water and cup my hands to gather the water. Hunched over, I bring the water up to my face as it falls out between my fingers. It rises up to my face and I splash it onto my face and I keep my eyes closed so the water won't get in my eyes. My hands reach up to wipe the eye sockets dry and I look at the mirror then down for the soap.

The Lemongrass is about gone. Though it's a dark bottle, I can see the level of my last bottle of Lemongrass soap has come to an end. There's even a cheap Lemon scented soap sitting behind it, anticipating a replacement. I wonder what my wetsuit will do without any of this left. When I return this season to triathlons--to swimming--what will I do without this soap?

I guess a new season means a new soap.