Baby steps (and strokes).
As terrifying as the “T Word” is to me (4 months and 1 day just in case you were wondering)- I’m still very much intrigued by it. I guess if I wasn’t I wouldn’t have signed up for the thing, but you know what I mean. It’s kind of like watching a horror movie: you’re covering your eyes in fear of what you know is coming ,but yet you sit there peeking through your fingers at all the gory goodness. I’m completely scared out of my pants- but yet a part of me keeps trying to picture the extreme awesomeness of crossing the finish line and actually being able to call myself a triathlete . (Side note: I wonder if its possible to add ,triathlete as a credential on my business cards at work? Remind me to check on that.)
So in the spirit of peeking through my fingers I decided that it was time to see if I could actually still ride a bike. Besides spin class in my chubby days, the last time I was cruising along on a bike was probably shortly after I got my braces put on and began dousing myself in Country Apple body splash. So while visiting my parents this weekend we dug out my brother’s old mountain bike. At some point I’m going to get some wheels of my own, (Which by the way I’d love any and all advice on because bike descriptions might as well be written in Swahili) but I figured I should probably see just how rusty my bike riding skills are first. Turns out that phrase “just like riding a bike” is a legit statement- it was a few wobbly rides up and down the street but they’re still there! I’ve been trying to picture myself cruising into the transition area (Look at me using my triathlon lingo!) but quickly cover my eyes with my hands again. Baby steps.
Speaking of baby steps errr…. strokes- swim class continues to be an ongoing battle in my life. I would be a millionaire if I got a $1 for every time my swim instructor says “good job… now get your head down lower” and although he laughs when I suggest tying a brick to the back of my neck- I don’t think he realizes I’m being dead serious. And by the time I got around to attempting to make some progress, he decided to throw us all in a lane at the same time to simulate an actual triathlon wave- and everything I had learned disappeared through swim cap. Which is kind of a problem considering that on ACTUAL T-Day I’m going to be in a mess of crazy swimmers, kicking and splashing past me in a nasty lake – not in my nice little flat lane in the chlorinated pool. So once again- I cover my eyes. One thing at a time here.
I’ve come to peace with the understanding that as much as my instructor tries to teach me good habits- when it comes time to do this thing my “technique” is going to be whatever the hell feels natural and keeps me from not sinking to my death. So right now I’m going to focus on physically making it more than a lap without dying, because swimming gives me serious Fat Kid Syndrome all over again. I remind myself over and over again that at one point running a mile was struggle and that eventually it happened. And this will happen too. Hopefully somewhere along the way the breathing thing happens as well… that or I’ll just continue to cross my fingers in hopes that I wake up on July 21st with a fresh pair of gills.