Hey bro, how's it going? You cool? Cool. November 28th, yeah that was your day and that day wasn't so long ago, was it? Let me just come out and say something before I say a lot of other things, that we are all proud of what you did that day, your first Ironman. Congratulations. If that's what you want to hear, you can fucking have it. Take it, put it in your pocket, pull it out any time you need to jerk off by celebrating your own mediocrity. You'll never fool me. And seriously, if victory like that is victory you want to hang onto, please just dig a grave and put yourself in it. Stop distracting the world from the alarmingly short supply of genuine, inspired effort.
I am going to destroy you in every sense of the word. There's a race coming up in May, in St. George, Utah, another full Ironman. You're not running it anymore, I am. You were so afraid. You trained afraid, swam afraid, biked afraid, ran afraid. You were an embarrassment. You didn't understand what I fully do, that it's better to fall apart than fail to compete. I will die before I become you again. That's a promise.
You are the skin I've pulled off and left behind. Someday, and soon, you and all your shed friends will be sitting at a bar and you'll be pointing at me, telling them you used to be me, that I wouldn't be what I am without you. That'll be your story and I'll be charging on, always charging on. Tomorrow when those sheets are lifted, something new and brutal and beautiful begins.
Also, fuck you.
