Reposted from June 2011: Well, it is finally here. Time for the annual Iron Man Coeur d' Alene. I hated it when I was in the hotel business, and I hate it now. Why? Well, because, that is why. (that worked for my parents.) Anyway, I live on the bike path, so I cannot go anywhere for the next several hours. However, I am not writing this to dis the unfairness of the select few who bring this monstrosity to the city every year, but rather, I am doing a fair, impartial, review of the three events which the participants must master to receive the coronation and the title of "iron man". I mean, is it really all that hard? 1. 2,4-mile swim- 2. 112-mile bike ride 3. 26-mile run. Come on, anyone can do that.
Now, let me tell you about what a real iron man is. I was sitting on a bar stool in the old ' Metals Bar" in Wallace, when I spotted my older cousin, actually my Dad's first cousin, Cletus, who was famous for his drinking and mining skills. Now, Cletus was excited to see his younger relative(I was only 29 at the time), so he wanted to know if I had the family drinking skills that so many of my relatives possessed. (Strangely, my own father never drank). I, not wanting to wimp out, assured Cletus that I was a _________through and through. He smiled and ordered me a shot. I manned up and downed that shot like a pro. Cletus smiled and gave me the family blessing," Yep, you drink like a --------all right. I was so proud to keep the tradition alive. Before I knew it, there were more shots in front of me, and then more and more and more. I passed each test with ease.
Soon, it was last call, and I figured that the night was over. I was ready for bed. I was wrong. Cletus wanted breakfast at Denny's in CDA. OK, now even with all of those shots in me, I knew that going to CDA at 2 AM, was possibly not the right choice. But, I was still needing to prove my manhood, so I said sure, I would go. Off we went. I don't remember much about the trip because Cletus kept a bottle in his car for emergencies(I guess that he figured this must be one).
We finished off that bottle well before we got to CDA. We ate a great, ok, a not so great breakfast, but the coffee sure hit the spot, got in his car and headed back home. The light was not starting to break through, and the birds were doing their morning song. Surely, the night was over. Whoops, there was one more course before this triathlon was over. As we neared the Smelterville exit, Cletus, or whatever his name was by now, asked if I cud handle one more. Of course, I could. after all, I was a ---------. Well, needless to say, we were the first patrons of the day, and after two more drinks, we finally headed for home. When I got out of the car or fell out, whichever it was, I was once again blessed with the respect of my cousin. I was indeed worthy to have the name. So, talk about this sissy CDA event all that you want to. But, I already did the course many years ago, and a lot tougher course it was. Wallace to CDA to Smelterville, to Wallace. My cousin, may he RIP was truly an iron man every weekend, and I, I, too, for one glorious night earned the title, too. I was an IRON MAN.