In Memoriam

Drew Streip's Love For Triathlon, which blossomed during his sophomore year of college before reaching a peak in May 2010, died Tuesday. It was two years old.

The infatuation grew from mere curiosity (spurred by the February suggestion by Bill Piper that Streip train for the April 2008 Trideltathon) into a serious hobby within a matter of months. When he realized the sport could replace the competitive void left by high school cross country, the hobby became a minor obsession.

Upon completion of his first international-distance triathlon, Streip's love for triathlon steadily gained momentum like a bike guided carefully down a hill. When the Love affair began interfering with his relationships, however, he realized the time was ripe for change.

Soon, he was single -- liberal with his training time, and promiscuous with his training partners. Streip's Love For Triathlon built for itself a virtual harem of swimmers, bikers and runners with whom to cavort, no strings attached. It propelled him to personal bests at 5K, 10K and Olympic-distance races. Life continued this way for a year, until the opportunity to settle down with a hometown half-Ironman presented itself.

New to the concept of committment to a race months in advance, Streip spent more time refining and less time relaxing. After a successful taper, and the race, which onlookers described as "intensely competitive...[but] kinda predictable," his Love For Triathlon seemed to be secure in its position as a lifelong partner.

After the honeymoon period, however, the next few months went from average (at best) to nightmarish: a series of injuries put his aspirations for long-distance triathlon on hold; training partners were difficult to find; his ability to run became a distant memory. Conflicting advice Slowtwitch.com's holier-than-thou Forum posters delivered the knockout blow to his Love: when it became clear that FTP, CdA and SRM were the triathletes' Three Wise Men, working their way toward the North Star over Kona, Streip steered his course away from Ali'i Drive.

On December 28, 2010 -- the day he realized that even though he had the  money, he would never be able to subscribe to all their disc wheel, Mele Kalikimaka, Iron-War bullshit -- Streip watched as his Love For Triathlon ground slowly to a halt, spinning one final time before reaching its final resting place, the wireless computer (a minor extravagance) stopping at 0.0 mph.

His Love For Triathlon leaves behind an overall win at the Flintstone Triathlon, podium finishes at the 2010 Trideltathon and Booker T. Off-Road Triathlon, a pair of clip-on Profile Design T2+ aerobars and three University of Tennessee-themed triathlon suits.

Services will be held on beautiful country roads and mountain bike trails everywhere. The family asks that, in lieu of flowers, suggestions for new hobbies be sent to:
Drew Streip
dhstreip@gmail.com
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Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.
-Redd Foxx

The Dad List

Normally I do my heavy thinking during my runs. But lately I've had to save my brain power for when I would otherwise be zoned out -- like watching "Two and a Half Men" and Internet-shopping for Charlie Harper shirts to impress the ladies.

A sticky-note app for my Droid is helping me keep track of my myriad great ideas. If I pull out my phone during conversation and write something down, don't blame it on technology (I figured out how to ignore people while appearing engaged years before even my first primitive cell phone).

Instead, blame my desire to be the best future father possible. The wave of pater-centric TV shows (OK -- maybe just "Shit My Dad Says") has got me planning for the future, to be the "every-man" dad who is both loving and practical, hard-nosed but forgiving. In other words, the old dudes from "Secondhand Lions," plus George Clooney in Ocean's 11, minus the grand larceny.

That's why I'm keeping a list -- The Dad List -- of the benchmarks I need to hit as a father. It's inspired by the young, 30-something guys I work with who are still learning how to handle sleepless nights and first Christmases; by iconic father-figures in pop culture; and, of course, by my own dad and grandfather.

Some of the items are no-brainers (teaching high-fives, riding bikes, playing catch) and some are what will be considered "outdated" traditions by the time I have kids (paper airplanes? Where's the remote control?). There are new-ish traditions, too -- like the elf on the shelf -- that I'm learning from young parents.

Of course, I have my own agenda. I'll only give one great idea away for now, but here goes. For my kid's first Christmas and/or birthday, s/he's getting a full toolbox and toolkit, a flashlight and a sewing kit -- all the things s/he'll need later, but will be "too cool" to ask for or appreciate as a teenager. It's a win/win. The baby will have plenty of beautifully wrapped presents under the tree. And 14 years later, they won't take my stuff when they pull the handle off the kitchen cabinet with their cargo short pockets while getting a midnight snack.

Genius, right?

Feel free to steal that idea. But in exchange, I'd appreciate if you left a comment with your best, classic, or unusual parenting milestones for me to add to The Dad List. Remember: if your suggestion doesn't engage me, I'll have no problem ignoring it (and you'll never know how I felt).

P.S. Merry Christmas!

Observations

A hair stylist will ask if you want any work done on your eyebrows.

A barber will ask if you want a trim on your nose- and ear-hair.

Either way, it will come as a surprise.
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Construction workers don't get bothered by anything.


Cubicle workers get bothered by nothing.

Semantics aside, there is a big difference.