It's been quite a journey these last three years of Ironman races. It seems funny to call you Ironman, for it is clear that you are an unforgiving mistress--more like an iron maiden if you ask me, cold as ice. All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.
And poor Mrs. Greyhound an iron widow. She was just a small town girl. We were just two American kids doing the best they can. Those crazy nights, I do remember, in my youth. I close my eyes, only for a moment and the moment's gone. Sometimes, the best that you can do is fall in love.
Now its me out training, while she sits, alone, an empty stare, a mother's face she wears. Heartache to heartache we stand. People always told me, "Be careful what you do. Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts." I'll be lucky if she doesn't tcall the Police and tell me to "beat it," or at least "don't stand so close to me."
And no matter how much I train, you cry, "More, more more." You sink your teeth down to my bone. You make it hurt so good. You're a real tough cookie with a long history. But I've seen the toughest around.
Now I fear my body is going. Losing ground, I'm reaching for you. Oh, well. Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky. Sure, I'd like to finish an Ironman in about 12 hours. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? 12 hours? Only in my dreams. Out of the blue. All my money won't another minute buy.
And yet I'm addicted to love. Caught in a landslide--no escape from reality. It ain't the way you move. It ain't the way you move me. I can't escape. I'm shot through the heart, and you're to blame. And very soon, I'll be a foreigner racing in Mexico. I imagine riding my bike through a flock of seagulls, a painted sign on the side of the road saying, "15 miles to the Love Shack," dancing the night away, going sailing and Mrs. Greyhound with a drink in her hand and her toes in the sand. Pretty maids all in a row. Come on set 'em up.
But that's after the race. Don't tell me you love me. Just bring it, Ironman. Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me. Hit me with your best shot. Sometimes I think I'll lay it down, but I gotta keep on rocking. I just can't stop. (You can still rock in America, can't you?) I was born to run. I was born to dream. I keep my motor clean. I wanna be a man in motion. We all need new frontiers. So, I'll keep on running.