Riding with the wind. When I'm sad, she comes to me.
With the thousand smiles, she gives to me...

Fly on my little wing.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Man up...get back on the tube.

     I have a good friend who's real name is Mike but we all just call him Chino. Chino had ran cross country in High School, then got fat for two years, then got his act together and ran his last two years in College and completed a tri before he graduated. Chino then signed up for Steelhead for the summer of 2010. Chino and I lived together in Steamboat Springs, CO while we were ski bums for the winter. We trained together quite a bit and continued to do so when we moved back to Petoskey for the summer.
       So Steelhead is July 31 and sometime around July 10th some friends came over for a tubing session out on Walloon Lake. We were having a grand old time, screwing around, scaring the crap out of each other and someone got the nifty idea to ride backwards on the tubes; just to add the additional level of intensity. After a few rounds it's Chino's turn to ride, while I'm driving.
     As a quick side note, I don't want to brag, but I pride myself on my ability to drive the boat and keep the tubers right on the verge of carnage...and then cause carnage. I'm not one of those drivers that just turns the boat, with the throttle all the way down so you can't stay on because of the G forces. That takes no skill, and there is no chance for the tuber. I pride myself on being able to make the hugest waves on the lake and being able to direct the tuber directly to the center of the wave collision, if you will.
     Back to the story. I don't even remember the details of how it happened, but Chino was riding backwards and I ejected him. It wasn't a particularity violent ejection, but we were all laughing as the boat pulled along side him. He was in obvious pain, clutching his hand, as he climbed back in the boat and collapsed on the back bench uttering something like, "I broke my hand. I broke my hand." I said something like, "it's not broken! Man up and get back on the tube so we can get home." (Which I feel bad about saying now) After a minute or so I was convinced something was wrong and we drove home.
     Someone drove Chino to the ER, where he got his X-Rays. I'm sure he'll correct me if I'm wrong but as I remember the X-rays showed some killer spiral fractures of Metacarpals 2-4. So for the second time in his life he went to Bay Street Orthopaedics to get fixed. (The first time being when my father cut his eyebrow skin while trying to cut eye holes in his "Burn Victim/Mummy" Halloween Costume.)
     While he was still hoping his hand would heal in 3 weeks, it wouldn't happen and Chino didn't get to do Steelhead. Instead he got all smart and went to grad school, where he's now kicking butt on their tri club and training for IM Canada in August. While IM times aren't very comparable course to course or even year to year, I hope he doesn't show me up and beat my inaugural IM time. THAT'D BE EMBARRASSING! 

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