Swim with the (Imaginary) Gators

The Mike from 6 months ago would not recognize Mike today. Where swimming was worse than torture back in January, now it’s just another effective workout routine. I actually look forward to swimming rather than avoid it like a pair of cement shoes. In fact, I’ve been proactively seeking out more ways that I can swim. My most recent foray involves some open water time in one of Austin’s relatively hidden gems. And fish. There are fish.

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Pull Out All the Stops

Swimming is my weakest discipline biggest opportunity to improve when it comes to triathlons. We could really dig in and do some research to determine why, but here are a few reasons that come to mind right away.

  1. You need a pool. Unlike running and biking, you can’t just walk outside and go.
  2. People were invented to be on land, not water. Otherwise we’d all be fish.
  3. I hate it.

Those are just a subset of the infinite reasons why swimming is unquestionably going to be my downfall.

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It’s In My Blood

Selfish.  Greedy.  A bit self-centered even.  Mainly selfish though.  That’s what I’m feeling right now after receiving an email from the Blood Center of Central Texas.  Apparently there is a shortage of Type O, and you’re looking at 10 tall pints of O-positive right here.  So why the self-deprecating adjectives to start things off?  Well, because it’s my blood and you can’t have it!

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You Don’t Have to Go Home…

…but you can’t stay here etc etc. As was previously mentioned, I’ve been mentally making the transition into triathlon-ing. Well, not wanting to let my brain get too far ahead, my body decided it was time to hop in the pool. Now, anybody who’s anybody knows swimming isn’t exactly my jam. For me it isn’t even a matter of “swimming” as simply “not drowning”. But all irrational fears aside I knew that in order to commit to surviving completing a triathlon I’d have to get my swim on. And so I did.

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The Future!

Hello, My Lone Faithful Readers,

I feel like we have forged a strong relationship over the last 18 months and I want to share something personal with you — something known only to those who I hold very near and dear to me I think would care.  As I am sure you have guessed, running is a bit of a hobby.  I dabble.  But it is not the final frontier.

“What!? What is this nonsensical nonsense?” you exclaim.

Well, my friends, fear not.  Running will still be a part of the master plan; it just might have two friends to tag along (which is more than I can say for myself…).  I realize I still haven’t said what I’m saying, so I’ll say it right after I finish saying this.

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Sink or Swim

Today sunk.  It sunk before things ever got started.  I’ve been looking to get in the pool for awhile now, mainly for some crosstraining, but with triathlons on the far, far away horizon.  I did a great job of coming up with excuses why I couldn’t, like “I won’t have enough time” [false], “I am a bad swimmer” [true], “There are tigers in the pool” [unverified], and other lame reasons for not getting myself in the water.

Well today was set to bust down all those mental walls and step up my training with some legit swimming magic.  Observing my irrational and debilitating fear uncertainty, Ev said she would join me on the endeavor.  We got up before the sun rose in order to arrive at the pool right when it opened at 7am.  Fully clad in our swimming gear (below) we pulled up to the pool ready to hop into the deep end.

As you may have surmised at this point (based on all my grandstanding and back story explanation with no real substance, this parenthesis notwithstanding), no swimming actually took place.  As we pulled up to the pool we found each lane chock full of Michael Phelps types.  Assessing the situation independently, we were in silent agreement to just keep driving, turn at the end of the block, and head home.  Sigh… One more reason not to swim: intimidation.  When we got home, pride defeated and floaties deflated, we took advantage of the earliness of the situation and got back in bed.  To swim, perchance to dream.  Maybe next time.