Dragon boats, annee deux

Dragon boating follows this pattern for me:

Round 1, 9:36 a.m.: "OK, OK, I can do this. I can do this. Ooh, see, when the water goes like that it reminds me of tubing at the lake in Michigan, what, 15 years ago?? Fifteen!? What? HEY -- yo, pay attention .... OK, I can't do this. Ooh! A buoy! Must be the end. Oh, God, no, there are TWO MORE of them! Oh, God. So thirsty."

Round 2, 11 something?: "Oh my God, they tipped! That boat tipped over down there! Look!" someone says. "I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this," I say.

Round 3, 2:36 p.m.: Can't even talk. Just can't. Must ... conserve ... energy. Can't ... paddle any ... more.

And that's when I knew ... This is fun, but I don't think I'll be signing up next year.

Anyhow, the periods in between the races was actually the worst, as everyone had family there or knew people or had the ability to walk upright while I sat in a chair and thought about how I wanted to be on vacation at that exact moment. Ma! Yeah. I coulda gotten up and walked around and talked to people, but ... so much energy.

Dave, who was also fearlessly paddling on the boat, had to go to work afterward, which my pessimistic self was clearly aware of even as I woke up at 7 a.m. I'm tired. Tired of waking up early. Tired of work. Tired of Dave going to work til late. Tired of having "Most Outrageous TV Moments" on NBC be the highlight of my weekends. I can't wait til October ... I just need that one small week off. Waiting is like getting two football fields into a three-football-fields-long dragon boat course. You'd get off right there if you could. But that water! It's so green and so impossible.