I wish I could stop thinking about it. At night the answer is no. I see all the personal, practical reasons not to try this very clearly. Waking up, it is pretty much resolved: no, I am not going to do Ironman Texas or train for it. As the day wears on, my good sense seems to erode and I think "maybe" yet again.
It is so hard to give up. This is one of the hardest things I have every tried to do. It is like accepting a death in a sense, but there does come a time for everyone.
There are so many demons out there just waiting to devour me if I make a serious move toward making another attempt. For one, I am not sure I can do the training. I am not sure my wife's health will hold up. I am not sure I can be there for her as I might need to be if I am all trashed out with ironman training. I don't know if my bad wrist from the bike wreck will make it through all the training. I don't have a good place to swim or run and so on. And then there is the bum knee that has plagued me for years now. I have reservations to overcome about outdoor bike riding after my bike wreck. There are a lot of offs with this hand.
So before too much more time passes I am going to make a determination as to what side I am on. I guess this isn't too big of a problem to have. And, in another sense, I feel blessed. Right now I just want to get on with it and put my face into the wind and "damn the torpedoes." But, I am gonna check with God first before I go to sea again.