I tried to write last night but internet access was down in my condo. A rather ironic scenario played out at home that I have to share.  It started with my recent post about my Muse mantra, "John" commented and asked if I had a "short man's complex."  I thought about that for a while before responding.  There was a time where the answer would have certainly been "yes."  I used to practice martial arts for a period of years in my mid-20s, primarily because I think deep-down I wanted to prove to other people that I was tough enough.  That I wasn't just a little shit, I could defend myself.

Somewhere closer to my 30th birthday, I realized that I didn't need to prove anything to anybody.  And triathlon has taught me all that matters is proving something to yourself.

That said, I would admit I have a lion-sized underdog complex.  David vs Goliath.  Rudy walking on to play football for Notre Dame.  Cinderella Man.  The kind of complex where my fuel grows with other people's doubts whether it's about my ability or the severity of a particular challenge.

So what's the difference between an underdog complex and short man's complex? Semantics?  Not to me.  I think it has everything to do with confidence.  The former is about challenges.  The latter is about insecurities.  I've pushed myself to my physical and mental limits (with more to go) in this sport, and I know what I'm capable of.  Confidence allows me to shrug off jokes or jibes about height, skill or appearance.

All that said, I wound up last night with what can only be described as a moment of karmic, comic irony.  Both fire smoke detectors in my condo started chirping late in the evening, reminding me that it was time to replace the batteries.  Problem is that they're obviously on the ceiling.  And I had no new batteries in the house.

Oh, and even if I did have batteries, there's no ladder in the house either.

There I was, perched atop the leather reclining chair in my office, a step-stool stacked on top of the seat.  Stephanie guarding my legs so the chair didn't spin around and knock me off.  Standing on my toes, reaching for the detector units.

Short man's complex indeed!

And yes, I did fix the problem. I ripped both detectors from the ceiling.   Now, only dangling wires remain.

Short man's complex...sheesh!

52 days and counting.