SEPTEMBER 8: Enough Already...This Seppo's Worn Out

I might be wearing myself out, physically. I have decided that I could not do the professional athlete thing for a living. Besides the fact that I've never had the required skill, I don't think organizing my entire day around workouts would keep me interested for more than a week. I need work, and strife, and intellectual chaos (somewhat fulfilled here by remembering to ride on the LEFT side of the road - only really becomes an issue when one gets into a roundabout, which the Aussies have replaced all their intersections with.)

After a night of pouring rain, we started off the day's training with a 40K bike ride to Booreen Point at Lake Cootharaba in the Great Sandy National Park, an inland set of tributaries set in everglades. Our hosts had rented a skiff to take us across the lake and up the river to a point among the flowering lilies where they would drop us off. Intent on giving us the full Australian jungle experience, and without any mention of what potentially lurks beneath the canopy of the everglades, we were given a map and a meeting point, and 7K of twisted, overgrown, rooted trail. Miraculously we arrived amongst monitor lizards at a dock just as Dr. Andrew was pulling up, and skinny-dipped into the river. Aussies don't have many inhibitions, and if you show any of your own, you are likely to be teased mercilessly. Not even the presence of 20 or so kids on a canoe trip could invoke modesty. Ridiculous amounts of exercise, public nudity, and turning everything into a competition are simply Australian characteristics, and I had better get used to it. We picnicked at the dock, and headed back to Noosa.

Requisite evening surf session at Tea Tree Point (even more fun than the previous night,) and then our first evening out on the town. Really great food and environment, and our discussion turned to the Aussie tendency to nickname everything. Some are cute and obvious (a wetsuit is a "wettie," sunglasses are "sunnies") some a little less obvious (the menu had a section of "sticky's" at the end, which is dessert. It also logically called appetizers "entrees," and main courses "mains.") Then there are some that are just weird (you put your beer and ice in an "eski," which is short for eskimo cooler) or derogatory (Americans are called "seppos" by local surfers - seppo being short for septic tank, rhymes with Yank, as in Yankee. Yeah, kind of a stretch, but they take great delight in the convoluted progression...) Anyway, after sticky's, I was chockers (full) and knackered (tired.)

Funniest thing I've seen in relation to the triathlon and training (oh yeah, that) has been the sight of cyclists with dozens of zip-ties protruding from their helmets, kind of a spiky adornment that gives them the appearance of a porcupine. The purpose of the spikes is to keep territorial dive-bombing magpies from swooping down and attacking the noggin of the cyclist, which apparently is perceived as threatening the birds' nests. I wouldn't have believed this until I saw a postie (postman, on a small motorbike) repeatedly attacked by a magpie as he motored in front of us. Of course, one of local Aussie Rules Football teams is called the Magpies, a mascot that is now infinitely more ferocious than I had previously thought. As one of the fans' signs read during Sunday's playoff match, "Go Pies." Now I get it.

Tomorrow should be the last day of workouts in Noosa, then we will head down to Gold Coast for race registration, the athlete's parade, and final preparations for the triathlon.

The articles in the Ravalli Republic and the Missoulian brought some great response in the form of contributions; thank you for your support. There has also been a fair amount of offline giving, and some pretty good betting and incentive for me to "try a little harder" come Saturday. Keep it up, we're almost there.


Until tomorrow,

Jeremy

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