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April 19, 2007
My
road to Kona turned out to be a dead end.
Didn’t make the lottery cut. Normally news like
this would be met with a mixture of sadness and
relief. I’ve seen the damage that race can do
to people and know the heartache it can inflict
so I’m not sure why I’m just feeling sad. I
should feel some sense of relief but I don’t.
Who knows. Maybe it’s the universe looking out
for me. But unless there’s some divine
intervention in the near future, my dream of
doing Hawaii will have to wait for another year.
I’m
writing this in the Vancouver airport, waiting
for a two AM flight that will see me landing in
Mumbai India twenty four hours later. I’ve been
contracted to write a screenplay for the
Bollywood machine and part of the deal is they
want me over there to do some research. It’s a
once in a lifetime chance and I’m thrilled to be
going. The challenge here is going to be to try
and maintain some fitness while I’m there.
Before I’d received the disappointing Kona news,
a friend convinced me to do The Desert ½ Ironman
this July in Osoyoos. The two of us got into a
little “who can train more” challenge and every
Monday morning hour readings were exchanged and
bragging rights issued. Unfortunately I didn’t
get to brag too much but my miles were going up,
the pounds were coming off and I was actually
starting to feel like an athlete again for the
first time since the Cold War ended.
I’ll
be over there for three weeks. That’s enough
time to lose some real fitness but I’m going to
do everything within my power to see that does
not happen.
I’ve
got my
Ripcords and a pair of sneakers. If there’s
nowhere to use them I’ll do a billion push-ups
everyday.
There is a heartbreak concerned with the timing
of this adventure though, and that is I’ll miss
Wildflower – and that truly does make me sad.
I’ve got five athletes who have all worked hard
to pull off a good race and I was looking
forward to cheering each of them on. I’ll just
have to do it from overseas. Not the same but
I’m sure I’ll be just as nervous on race day!
Before one goes to India you have to spend about
four and fifty dollars on shots and pills.
There’s a complicated schedule to follow for all
them. In spite of it all the doctor told me to
bring some Imodium as back up. I told her I had
an iron stomach and all this was probably just a
great waste of time. Famous last words.
Overate on the ferry buffet from Victoria to
Vancouver and ended up cracking the seal on
Imodium before we had docked.
One
of the producers of the movie is suppose to meet
me here in an hour. I’ve met the cat once a few
months ago but I’m not sure I’ll recognize him
again. I’m not good at that stuff. I’m glad
he’s joining me on the flight, though because I
don’t know what this movie is suppose to be
about yet. I was brought on board because I
have a small reputation as a horror writer and
their original idea was to produce an Indian
horror/thriller type film. I guess this isn’t
done too much, if at all. They wanted to be one
of the first. I thought it was a brave move but
three days ago I got a call from DJ, the
producer who is to meet me here. He said they
no longer wanted to go in that direction and
they had some other ideas they’d discuss when we
got to India. I’m flying blind. God, I hope
they don’t want to do a musical. |
