VTFU

My friend Joe - a runner, boxer, writer, animal lover, advice giver, nurturer, dreadlock wearer, beer drinker, and all-around wonderful person - died in his sleep sometime Thursday night or Friday morning. He was 37.

Known as Voodoojunkie on kickrunners.com, Joe was one of the kindest, gentlest, most thoughtful people I knew. I had the great fortune to meet him at a few races and spend time with him. He was always quick to lend support to new runners or anyone, regardless of skill or experience, who needed a mental boost. He added countless words and expressions to our group's lexicon: by the Gods, sweating like 10 whole men, bio-solid, I reckon, and, especially, Cowboy the F Up (or CTFU for short).

Since Monday when word spread about his passing, it's become VTFU -- Voo the F Up.

It's a reminder to pull up your bootstraps when times are tough. It's a motivational tool to get you through a tough run or hard day or difficult time in your life.

It's now a mantra.

Joe was taken from us much, much too soon. His impact, however, will be felt for years to come. At least three or four of my running friends give him full credit for their dedication to the sport. He was the one who reached out to them, made them feel welcome in our little cyber-group, and offered just the right words of encouragement to keep them from giving up.

We feel a huge loss. A hole that cannot possibly be filled. Our hearts are heavy, and our tears are plentiful.

But how lucky were we to have him in our lives for even a brief period?

Voo, I will miss you constantly, but I know you're smiling down on all of us from that big finish line in the sky. We'll meet again, my friend. When we do, I will be able to tell you in person how very much you have meant to me.

Rest in peace, sweet Voodoo.

Cramming

My A race is in less than four weeks. Last year at this race -- the Northeast Triathlon, my only Olympic distance tri so far -- I vowed to never, ever do it again. It was painful. It was hot. It was hilly. It was LONG.

It was horrible.

After the initial self-pity, I re-examined my vow. I knew I could improve on my overall time. I knew where I could push and where I should hold back, unlike last year when I basically took the entire race pretty conservatively because it was the first time at that distance.

So I signed up again.

And then I skipped far too many key workouts. And didn't work on my biking as much as I should have. And thought about dropping out of the race or selling my bib to someone else.

And then I really had a reality check and came to the conclusion that I was being a big baby.

So now I have 27 days to go, and I'm trying to cram about 8 weeks of training into less than 4 weeks. My swimming has improved tremendously since last year. (These enormous linebacker shoulders are good for something after all!!!) My running is probably about the same as it was last year. My biking... well... my biking is what it is.

But I'll go out there on August 16 and do the absolute best I can do on that day. If I finish with a faster time than last year, I'll be ecstatic. If I'm slower than last year, I'll be disappointed... but not devastated.

What would be devastating would be to not even try.

I am

the worst blogger EVER! Holy moley, it's been more than a month since I've written anything!

Not that I don't have anything to say... I have LOTS to say! (When don't I?) :) I just don't have any spare time to sit down and write anything intelligible.

Life is hectic and wonderful and crazy and wacky and unpredictable and fun and stressful and busy and joyous and sweet and bittersweet and full of twists and turns. And I wouldn't have it any other way.