Game Time Bitches!

It's 4:55 in the morning I'm showered up, I'm lubed up, I'm eatting a cliff bar as I type this . I'm ready. The Rocky music is going off in my head, part of me keeps asking myself "why do I do this?" My answer is simple "BECAUE I CAN!" Now it's a half hour ride, going through body markings, and waiting for the start. My heart is throbbing out of my chest and part of me wants to just get back on to I-195 and head home, but I'm not. Maybe I'm psycho, maybe'm a glutton for suffering or maybe it's just I like the bragging of doing more in a few hours than most people do all day. All I know is this, AR (my "coach", ) MED, MJD, HD, CD RD and RD2 HM, MM, LD, the blazeman, all the people who can't do what I'm about to. Now it's 5:00 it's time to hit the road and kick this pig. It's game time bitches.