Have you heard of Anvil?
It is the story of a thrash metal band in obscura waiting for their moment to happen- and it does. 30 years of steady rocking until they became a curio on the mantle of rock, and thereby worthy of becoming the subject of a human interest documentary. Now they are rocking faces off all over the world, including Rocklahoma.
I relate to you this story not because I am a fan of thrash metal like my brother, but because I understand the concept of waiting 30 years for the smile of justice to turn your way. Luck is for those who earn it, and Anvil never stopped rocking.
That’s what I was thinking of out at Munson yesterday, time trialing at 3:00 P:M in the afternoon, in a suffocating humid haze so cloying I kept reaching to unzip my jersey only to realize it was open and flapping like a soggy beach towel.
I carried a soaking wet Camelbak full of gear that weighed 26.5 pounds. I cranked the Tupac up. I don’t need a cool, breezy day or a challenge from anyone. I rock like Anvil, for rock’s sake alone.
Forty-one minutes and forty-two seconds, give or take a minute that I spent moving a Gopher tortoise out of the trail (we have to stick together!) I celebrated with 45 minutes at the gym, emptying the tank.
So whatever, that is pretty slow.
Like the boys of Anvil, when my moment comes I will be ready to rock.
Juancho
NOICE!!! (throws horns, lights lighter).
Did you say gym??!! Please don’t do that. Just knowing that you are out there defying all that is training, the last bastion of “who cares?”, is comforting to me. As soon as I can kick this, “I gotta smoke the guy next to me” habit, I was looking forward to chilling with your crew, followed up of course by pork loin, sangria, and The Dude on a giant sheet in your back yard. I’ll sit quietly and listen while you guys talk about things I know nothing about. But now you went and said gym…
I done been going to the gym for years. I like to sweat in the air-conditioning. I’m not getting in shape- more of a death prevention program.
I think that guy on the left is my ex-husband.
I “air-pedaled” all the way through that blog and then said “thank-you, good night!” as I passed Cobra Kai on the trail.
Rock on Anvil, rock on Juancho
Roclahoma?! “There’s no place like home.”
9A Shop WBZN too
….that’s a idea we coulda rolled wif from the git go.
Burn Hollywood!