Location: Madison, Wisconsin
My friend Anna begins Ironman Madison, her first triathlon.
I am asleep in my bed.
Anna finishes the swimming portion of said triathlon and jumps on a bike to begin pedaling 112 miles.
I am still asleep.
Anna is still pedaling furiously.
I get out of bed and make my way to my couch, stopping for a cup of coffee as I pass the kitchen.
I make significant headway on my Entourage marathon and eat a bowl of ravioli.
Anna keeps pedaling her way through 112 miles and curses the world.
I watch Brett Favre throw his first touchdown as a Jet and curse the world.
Anna...you get the picture.
I answer a knock on the door and meet my neighbor for the first time. He (cute, late twenties, tall, wearing clean clothes) wants to borrow a "cooking brush." I (cute, late twenties, tall, wearing paint spattered pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt that says "gay? fine by me") tell him I have a broom. He reiterates, miming a brushing motion with his hand. I brilliantly reply "we don't cook much," and invite him inside while I rummage through the kitchen. He leaves sans brush. I drink more coffee and wonder why I don't have a boyfriend. I think about taking a shower.
Anna finishes biking 112 miles and starts a fucking marathon.
I meet my sister, K, at a coffee shop near the race route. When we walk inside, a small boy wearing a cape screams "MY DADDY BOUGHT ME SOME PINK AND BLUE ICE CREAM DO YOU WANT SOME I LOVE ICE CREAM AND I CAN FLY." We decide that we do, indeed, want some ice cream. K and I hurry to finish the ice cream before we see Anna.
Anna runs past us! K and I scream and cheer with appropriate awe and glee. Anna looks great!
K and I wander the race route splitting our time fairly evenly between cheering for the Ironman athletes and mocking the Madison natives who are out for their evening jog. Amateurs!
We see Anna again! She still looks great.
Another Anna sighting! She's got roughly 12 miles left and says she might be walking the rest of the way. I point out that I've been walking around all day and find it to be a fine method of transportation. I give Anna a hug and tell her I'll see her at the finish line.
Anna is still moving!
K and I go for a 3 mile run. Whooo-eee are we beat! We congratulate ourselves on our good time (30 min.) and make plans to run again sometime. In the future. Someday.
Go Anna go!
I ice my broken foot. Yes, I strained my arch WALKING around WATCHING Anna compete in a triathlon. I am humiliated. And sore. I blame the flip-flops! THE FLIP-FLOPS I TELL YOU. I watch more Entourage and eat a popsicle to console myself.
Anna is runnnnnnnnning.
I convince my brother, B, to drive me the 7 blocks to the finish line because my foot is so sore. I promise B and K not to embarrass them by limping or showing any other signs of weakness in front of Anna.
Anna crosses the finish line alongside her husband Jon. They are beaming. They look tired. They look great! I snap a few pictures and give Anna a hug. Anna attempts to thank me for cheering, but can't string enough words together to form a coherent sentence. Jon stumbles towards me and invites me to visit them in Minnesota. They've just been exercising for 15 consecutive hours, and they're worrying about being polite. Sweet Lord. I say goodbye and watch them stagger into the sunset as I turn and begin to limp back to my apartment.