My friend doing Ironman Coeur d'Alene is on her last six miles, with nearly four hours to go. I can't remember what her goal time was—she's super speedy, so she might be disgusted with her race right now for all I know—but in my imagination she's one of those lucky people on the home stretch who are definitely going to make it, while folks like me are just barely past the halfway point coming the other way and still having serious doubts.
By the way, today I heard someone make an offhand comment referring to Ironman racing as "frivolous"—something people do just because they want to, not because it adds any actual value to the world. That, my friends, is a great way to sum up my current feelings about the issue. So there you go. "Frivolous" is the new "poop," and if I ever find myself giving any serious thought to signing up for another one, I'll just say, "Nope, frivolous," donate $1,000 to African orphans, and volunteer 15 to 20 hours a week in a homeless shelter for the next nine months instead.
Oooh. Or, I could buy a nice sewing machine and a bunch of material and spend 15 to 20 hours a week learning to quilt. That's less frivolous, because it produces something practical (quilts) PLUS there would still be about $500 left over for orphans. Awesome plan.