Unfortunately, much like the Tough Mudder of 2012, I am getting ready to eat breakfast at 7am on a Saturday, and my one-man team will be headed out to the course without support. This time, there won't even by TheWife, who seemed incredibly excited to have the house to herself on this cool Saturday morning.
I got some water boiling, adding just a dash of salt, and while I waited for that to boil I threw three thick cut slices of bacon on my grill pan. As I stood there watching the pot that never seemed to boil, I was feeling a little unmotivated. For the first time in awhile, I heard The Manipulator's voice.
For you long-time readers of the blog, you know that Alan Rickman seems to play the role of the Manipulator in my subconscious. For you newbies...um...Alan Rickman plays the role of the Manipulator in my subconscious. There, you're all caught up.
|Don't know what he's like in person, but his voice is a real dick!|
But, as I'm cooking that bacon, watching the grease dance in the pan like goat men dancing around Baccus, I realize that alone isn't particularly bad. Alone is a step up from...um...from...
"This is a terrible analogy."
It's not an analogy, it's a simile. Or is it...the other one?
"You're going to make an excellent writer someday."
Being alone isn't bad. At least I'm out there doing it. I stick my tongue out at an imaginary person in my head. I mean, I actually stick my tongue out, because I may be just a little crazy. But, the water was boiling so I poured in a half cup of steel cut oats and set them to their 10-minute simmering. As I flipped the bacon one last time, making sure it was semi-crisp...I like a little chew to my bacon, thanks...I realized that many of my friends were still in bed. Some of them will complain to me later on that their backs hurt or their knees are bothering them or they still haven't lost as much weight as they wanted to or they're actually gaining weight. I'll encourage them to join me and they won't and we'll have that same conversation next year.
Me? I'm an over-weight, pre-diabetic black man in America. If anyone is expected to be lounging in bed on a Saturday morning it's me. Instead, I'm pouring perfectly cooked, al dente oatmeal into my green porcelain bowl, serving up a few cuts of bacon, and looking up parking and packet pick-up information for a 5k obstacle course.
But one day...
Actually, I'll NEVER be as fast as them, let's be honest. But that's ok. Because I'm faster than all the people who were still in bed this morning.
I spent the next 30 minutes eating one of the greatest breakfasts of my recent history.