Good Morning and how about those stars coming out for the Philly Thanksgiving Day parade!?!
A couple of years ago, my brother said he wanted to compete in an Ironman competition. You know, the one where you have to swim a couple miles, ride a bike for like 122 miles, then run a marathon.
To which, I said he was crazy.
A year ago, he volunteered to work along the route of the Ironman in Phoenix. He handed out water, helped competitors, did whatever was asked. He volunteered for the sole purpose of being able to register for the next Ironman.
To which, I said he was crazy.
For the past year, he's gotten up early in the morning (like the same ungodly hour my alarm goes off) and ventured to a pool to swim laps. He's rode his bike ridiculous distances (like the time he pedaled from his home in Conshohocken to the Ben Franklin Bridge, then to Phoenixville, then back home). He's jumped off the bike and run mile after mile. He blogged about it all RIGHT HERE
To which, I said he was crazy.
He booked the flight. Packed up the gear. Got on the airplane and, last weekend, landed in Phoenix.
To which, I said he was crazy.
This past Sunday, he jumped into a river with 2,500 other people and swam nearly three miles. He jumped out of the water and hopped on his bike. More than six hours later, he hopped off the bike and started running. My mother sent along a photo as he started the run. He was smiling.
To which, I said he was crazy.
It took six hours to finish the marathon part of the Ironman. He said yesterday he walked about 13 miles of the marathon, but was never going to stop. He said he was sore Sunday, but felt great Monday. He also said he signed up again for next year's race.
To which...well, he's crazy, but pretty damn impressive.
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