Doable?

Been feeling some writers fever lately. Unfortunately my hands, along with every other fiber of my body are more tired then my brain.

Did I really say this triathlon training should be easy? Oh, right, doable was the word I used. Still alive to write, I will consider training a success thus far.

Who knew I would fall in love with swimming. The easy ebb and flow of coolness cascading around my flailing appendages with such peace, has me craving a daily intake. Time takes precedence and I'm lucky if I hit the pool twice or thrice a week. Wee hours of the morning have been revitalizing thanks in part to goggles, a nose plug, and a running skirt for a makeshift swim bottom.

Good grace and kindness granted me usage of my friend Barbara's extra road bike. She took me out on my virgin ride this week, showing the tricks of the cycling trade: gears, padded diaper-like shorts, cadence improvement tips. You name it, Barbara taught it and I soaked it in. Sheer speed and wind in my hair was enough to hit me up for more mileage next week. I might be hooked.

I heard mention once of the bike being the most torturous means of human transportation. Neck held up, confident controlling arms, agile knees and legs, buttocks on a tiny metal seat. Who in their right mind would be comfortable in the saddle for an extended amount of time? Me? Maybe. All I know is that 15 miles at only 14-16 MPH was just about enough to do me in for my first time out.

Goodbye jello flab.
Hello slightly more muscle beginning to make an appearance after a few weeks of torture!