Here it is - the second, and final, SportDork Vacation Entry for this week.  As you are reading this entry, the chances are good that I am resting comfortably in a Spanish hospital bed after contracting a bad case of food poisoning from a tasty, yet undercooked plate of Paella.  It's not that I'm a pessimist - that's just how The SportDork rolls.  While I'm on the topic of illnesses, I should mention that I faced a major dilemma last week before leaving for Ibiza.  On Thursday, with my folliculitis apparently in retreat after a round of antibiotics, it struck me that if the malady should rear its ugly head again while on vacation, I would be unprepared to treat it and would be forced to put my fate in the hands of a local Ibiza health care professional.  Now, based on what I've read about the Ibiza club scene online, I'm sure they have deep expertise in the treatment of sexually transmitted diseases, but who knows if they see much folliculitis.  I decided the only prudent course of action was to pay another visit to my new doctor here in England before we left and have him re-examine my condition to ensure that I had completely recovered.  But as I was basking in the glow of my own genius for thinking up this precautionary course of action that would potentially save our vacation from disaster, a terrifying thought crossed my mind:  What if, while at the doctor's office to prevent another round of folliculitis, I contract a flu bug or some other pathogen, and that ends up screwing up the vacation?  I was momentarily paralyzed with fear. 

 

What to do next?  When in doubt, I go to my ace in the hole to determine my next move: the cost-benefit analysis.  I didn't have a big white erase board and five different colors of erasable markers handy, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so I got to work with my legal pad and mechanical pencil.  Question: Is the risk of my vacation getting screwed up by another bout of folliculitis greater or less than the risk that it will get screwed up by contracting a nasty bug while at the doctor's office attempting to prevent another round of folliculitis?  I gave the matter great consideration.  I concluded that folliculitis is the known, while the mysterious bug floating around the doctor's office is the unknown, and you have to go with the known over the unknown.  Plus, there are measures you can take to reduce the risk of contracting that mystery bug while at the doctor's office, such as sitting in the back of the waiting room away from other patients, avoiding contact with any of the germ-laden magazines or, for that matter, anything else in the office, and breathing very shallowly during the entire visit (I don't know if that last one really does anything, but hey - what do I have to lose?).  Problem solved.  I paid a return visit to my doctor on Friday before we left.  (This also means there is a roughly 90% chance that I am currently suffering from a severe head cold.)

How about a story?

I am sharing this story with you for two reasons:  first, because I need your help.  Second, because I firmly believe that any of you who are, or ever have been, in a long-term relationship will relate to this story.  About three years ago, I bought a box of Crest White Strips.  The White Strips looked like this:

I had very good intentions for this box of White Strips.  I promised myself that I would diligently apply my White Strips twice daily, to my top and bottom teeth, as instructed on the box.  Thirty minutes twice a day?  What could be easier?  Plus, it was an expensive box of White Strips.  There was no way I was going to spend that kind of money on Crest White Strips and then not use them - that would be crazy.  Well, I think I made it all of about six days before I fell off the White Strips wagon.  I'm pretty sure the box just lingered on the bathroom counter top for some extended period of time and then was ushered underneath the sink to be forgotten about forever.

Fast-forward to about a year later.  I am in CVS, and what do I see?  'New and Improved' Crest White Strips!!  They had attractive new packaging:

I tried to ignore them, but they called to me.  Look at the package - it's very shiny and reflective (It was a real b*tch to photograph).  I decided that I was once again ready for the challenge.  There was no way the White Strips could beat me twice.  I had been humbled by my first White Strip experience.  This time, I wouldn't be over-confident.  I would give the White Strips the respect they deserved.  I would commit to the White Strip regimen like I had never committed to anything before.  I walked my box of 'New and Improved' White Strips to the counter with a steely resolve.  I even frightened the cashier.  This box of White Strips was going down.

White Strips are a funny thing.  They have this uncanny ability to get away from you.  I had gone into my second box of White Strips with my eyes wide open to the challenge that they posed, but I just didn't have what it took to complete the mission.  I made it through a few days, only to eventually lose my will.  White Strips 2, SportDork 0.  Once again, the box of White Strips lingered on the bathroom counter for some extended period of time, only to disappear to the bowels of the bathroom cabinet.

Now fast-forward to a couple of months ago.  Mrs. SportDork and I are packing up the bedroom for our big move to England, and she is cleaning out the bathroom cabinet.  After packing the "essentials," she identifies items that could be thrown out, and puts them in a pile.  Because Mrs. SportDork is a caring and respectful spouse, she works through the "throw out" pile and only tosses her own bathroom items, leaving the remaining "throw out" items for my perusal.  I look down at the pile, and there they are:  the White Strips.  I try to throw them out - to finally make peace with my failure - but I can feel them mocking me and my lack of teeth-whitening commitment, so I come up with another plan.  I take all of the remaining white strips, now somewhere in the neighborhood of two years old, and I shove them into a plastic bag.  I will not accept defeat.  I will take this bag of White Strips all the way to England, where I will impose my will on them. 

I know it is only a matter of time before Mrs. SportDork will spot the bag of White Strips.  I hear the laughter, and I know she has found them.  Now my wife AND the bag of White Strips are laughing at me.  I explain that the bag of White Strips and I have some unfinished business to attend to in England, to which Mrs. SportDork responds that it is probably time to "let it go" and then walks away mumbling something about me and choking and the bag of White Strips.  I can't make it all out.  With singular focus, I deposit the bag of White Strips in my shaving kit and begin mentally preparing for "Round 3" in England.  I forget to bring a pair of shoes, but I remember the White Strips. 

On the plane to England, I thought about how appropriate it was that I should have a third and final bout with the White Strips, just like Ali-Frazier.  The great ones always have three fights.  That's how it was meant to be. 

Here they are, enjoying the flat.  Smug bastards.




This is where you, the SportDork readers, come in.  I have to finish this bag of White Strips, and I have to do it soon.  I can't take the humiliation and taunting that I will endure if I'm packing up that bag of White Strips for our trip back to the States in eight months.  I can't.  We have now been in England for about two months, and I haven't made a dent in the bag, so I decided I need to reach out to the SportDork Nation to provide me with the motivation necessary to emerge victorious from this final bout with the White Strips.

Here is my solution:  The SportDork Bag O' White Strips Contest!!!  ("TSDBOWSC") Based on the picture of the bag of White Strips provided above, you guess how many days it will take me to finish the bag of White Strips.  The starting date will be September 23, 2007, which is when we get back from Ibiza (No way I'm taking those things with me to Ibiza).  Ideally, I would apply four strips a day - two in the morning (one top, one bottom) and two at night.  However, I am only trying to whiten my upper teeth, so that reduces it to two a day.  Also, even though the White Strips are labeled as 'upper' and 'bottom', I use both kinds on my upper teeth, so they should be used to completion.  Whoever guesses the correct number of days, or closest to the correct number of days, will win the first SportDork.com t-shirt ever released, making it sure to become a collector's item. (There's no penalty for going over - as long as you're closest, you win.  This isn't The Price Is Right.) 

I am confident that with your participation in the TSDBOWSC, I will be sufficiently motivated to complete the mission at hand.  Let's face it - there is no stronger motivation than the specter of humiliation.

Submit your entries using the comment feature at the bottom of this entry.  The winner will be contacted through the e-mail used to submit their entry.  One entry per person.  Friends and family of the SportDork ARE eligible to win (otherwise there wouldn't be any contestants).

May the best reader win!!