Is This The Way To Beverly Hills?

After an uneventful flight today, we ended up having to wait for about 90 minutes for our shuttle ride from Denver to Buena Vista.  The arrival of the ride was the moment I realized I wasn't going to be running in Beverly HIlls.  We met up with a couple from outside of Paris (not Illinois, France) - Jean and Irene (and I am taking a guess at spelling John's name here...think I'm close?).  We also were introduced to Scott and Chris...two lads from Oxford...yes, the UK.  Love the way those mates talk. "No worries"....We are heading out to meet them for dinner in a few minutes.  They are living in luxury at the Best Western, while we are slumming it at the Super 8. 

But it wasn't their speech, or the country of origin that put the feeling of inadequacy in my step.  It was their "look".  Not the missing limbs from previous hardcore events.  Not their 3rd nipple.  And, no, we did not get a peek at their speedo-like skivvies (though Lynn was trying...I swear!).  It was the fact that they looked "rugged".  Like they belonged here.  Weather worn would be another good way to describe them.  Wrinkles where they should be.  Good tans.  Messed up hair.  Cargo shorts.  Swimming pools.  Movie starts.....

Lets just say Lynn looked Gucci like in a cute jean skirt, and I looked....well, like me.  Even my rugged goatee didn't have the intend affect of "I belong".  Damn.   But on further discussion, we found that said couple from Paris hasn't trained at altitude like we have (that .16 incline up Morehead Avenue).  Chris and Scott however are quite the world travellers and were talking all about Ironman's during the 3 hour ride.  I guess I could've talked about my 3 sprint triathlons, but they didn't seem to measure up.  After all, one was in a pool at the Beverly Hills Hilton, and the run portion of that even was really a walk up Rodeo Drive.

So tomorrow we need to have new gameplan.  I am going to find the local tattoo parlor and get a "You're In My Way...MOVE!" tat....maybe even an "Eat My Dust" tat on my calf that they will see when I come flying by.  Oh, and I am going to shave my head and get a big hoop earring too.  Then the so called competition will know I mean business.

After that, I'll probably try to find a nail salon....have to look good for the welcome dinner on Saturday.  You wouldn't catch Brandon and Dylon looking this rugged....

KEIYH