Ironman Cozumel - 2 Days To Race...

It wasn't too long ago that I was talking on here about my competition, about how when I line up on Sunday, there are going to be about a dozen guys who have a shot, really have a shot in 25-29 of getting to Kona. Yesterday, I was talking about the camaraderie between athletes, and felt so much of it today...but then something else happened. I was walking to the convention center to register when I crossed paths with these two guys, two Americans walking ahead of me. Pretty soon we were lost together and talking up life, the journey here and everything in between. They were both named Brian, from Los Angeles but the beach town Hermosa. They were friendly as hell, and if I see them Sunday after the race, we'll probably get drinks together and talk about the day's pretty bleed. Sunday. After the race. Today, the more we walked together, and talked, the more apparent it became - they're here to do exactly what I'm here to do. And no one said it. We didn't talk about times, or ages, or ambitions. We didn't have to. I could feel it in them. They could feel it in me. At some point, the build became too much and we parted ways on my desires to fix the screws in my seatpost. I saluted them, fearful, wondering like hell what they're made of. They saluted me, probably fearful of my calves, wondering like hell what I'm made of. We shall see.