Diplomatic Crisis

I'm a lover, not a fighter. So, with all the chaos and conflict on our blue planet, who would have thought that I'd spark hostility? And from all places, who would have thought it would come from our little sibling to the north? Since when does Canada lob missles over the border at us? Well, it has, and it has sparked a diplomatic crisis of blogospheric proportions.

A certain person has recently posted how she's going to "kick greyhound's a$$," at a certain, harmless little 70.3 event coming up. Prior to this, that certain person has signaled her availability on the instant messenger with the tag that she's going to "kick" or "beat" or "whip" greyhound or his "butt" or "a$$" or some other anatomical region.

Like I say, I'm a lover, not a fighter. I don't have a history of picking on girls or pulling pigtails. I have no idea what would have prompted this act of aggression. This is not to say that my hindquarters have not, in the past, been the subject of female attention and admiration, but that is an entirely different post.

This certain person's agresssion is all the more confusing because her aspirations clearly ought to be much higher than beating on lil' ol' me. I'm what Bolder calls, "an endurance toddler." I only have a few years of training to layer on the aerobic base needed for long course triathlon. This certain person, however, is older than me. Much MUCH older.

I don't mean that kind of older, I mean this kind of older--that certain person has more years of endurance training.

Well, OK, she is older than me, but that's beside the point.

Beyond mere endurance training, I'm an untouched, innocent, naive Ironman virgin. This certain person is experienced--really REALLY experienced.

I don't mean that kind of experienced, I mean this kind of experienced--this certain person has multiple Ironman finishes to her credit. Me, not so much.

Just on the raw numbers, this certain person has done an HIM 12 minutes faster than I ever have.

So, you see, it's really not fair to lil' ol' me if I race this certain person straight up.

Perhaps the fairest, and most diplomatic compromise would be to see who manages the best percentage of their HIM PR time--whether or not we are able to improve those times on this relatively difficult course. Then, in the true sense of triathlon, we would be racing ourselves.

If I lose, I am willing sing "O Canada," bedecked in maple leaf garb, in my finest voice, for the entire blogosphere. If I win, I think that certain person ought to favor us with a respectful rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner" or perhaps "Deep In The Heart Of Texas."

That's fair, right?