RIP RAP

January was like a hit and run accident. Slam, bam and outta here: no witnesses, no skid marks, minor damage, no casualties. The camera just kept rolling, the players kept moving according to the unwritten script. I miss January but I hardly remember it.

Now, I'm not bored. I, as you, cherish all the days and collect them naturally like wild blooms. And I, as you, am not an apathetic lost soul locked up inside himself who squanders his days like chips in a poker game, cards held close to the vest. Yet, there's a gnawing in my gut that has me moody, uncertain: like loose ends in a tangle.

We're half way through February and heading downhill, fast, toward March. As eager dd.com participants you have observed October as Leg Month, November as Chest Month, December, January, and February as Back, Shoulders and Arm Months, respectively. That brings us to Get Ripped Month, right on schedule. Mad March. And, therein lies, I believe the source of my discomfort.

Get Ripped. Whose big idea was that? Think about it. It's like rolling our mean machine to the starting line to see what it can do in the quarter mile. ...cough... sputter... sput... ssssss...

Like putting a match to a fuse and watching the flame skitter along as you wonder if there's dynamite on the other end. Fiz z z z z z... pop...

Harvest and crush and distill the grapes. Have you Dom Periot Sparkling Champaign or vinegar, Heinze 57?

I'm not so sure I want to know what's underneath my comfortable layer of protective padding. I can just assume there's considerable shapely muscle mass; graceful, striated, vascular, if I please and almost dancing. What else would there be? So why bother at this juncture to stop the thick muscle building to go on some quirky, dumb diet? Phewwww. Almost fell for that one.

I'm right, right? Now, where was I... ah, yes... bulking up before Daylight Savings Time...

Alas, I'm a ninny and have exposed my cowardice. Laree says I can't go on this way and I mustn't tear down the Noble Structure, as she calls it, of dd dot com and IOL. Get a hold of yourself, man. She's right, of course. She's always right. March, Get Ripped it is.

As Goliath once said some years ago, "Get serious, David."

Fact is, I'll probably continue to chug along toward 230 lbs. as I originally planned last year when we embarked on our winter sojourn to keeps us warm and cozy together. Worked for Laree and me, and I know it worked for a lot of you as well. Communication, encouragement, pushing and pulling, healthy grumbling, real compassion and accountability keep us in eager pursuit, informed, honest and grateful.

BREAKING NEWS BULLETIN

Lyle McDonald of Ketogenics fame is in attendance on the IronOnLine email group for some priceless, big bang nutritional conversation. Get aboard; learn, grow and know. Tune your machine, raise its performance and strip it of excess through the absolutely most efficient and agreeable system of race preparation. I've been a quasi-ketogenic achiever for over 35 years — Lyle explains why.

The wise man grasps opportunity from the air, the fool lets it slip from his hand.