mytwothousandnine

Did you know that in addition to not really being able to swim the 862 yards required for the upcoming triathlon, I also don’t own a bike?  This, of course, correctly implies that I haven’t really ridden an actual bike in quite a few years.  Oh, and just for good measure, when I checked the triathlon web site today, I found out that we’re actually supposed to ride 15 miles – not 12.

What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have any business doing a triathlon this year.   And I felt so strongly about it that tonight, during our workout in the New York Sports Club pool, I told my roommate that I was quitting.

“I’m serious,” I insisted.  “I can’t do it.”

She more or less told me to be quiet and do the breast stroke – which happens to be the best advice I’ve gotten since someone told me to put cherries in the freezer and pretend they’re popsicles. 

The breast stroke might be slow, but it sure is easy.  Or put another way, it’s not a freestyle popsicle, but it gets the job done.

And right now, I’d rather do it the easy way than not do it at all.