Since the post-N*tflix era has begun, my training intensity has increased dramatically.
I locked in a hotel room. I've reserved a wetsuit rental for the swim (water temperature in the low- to mid-60s -- call me a pussy, but at least I'll be a warm one). I bought my tri shorts (a shorter, less-padded version of regular cycling shorts) and tri top (I haven't worn a tank top since my varsity hoops days in the '80s, but this time ... pockets in the back!). I've exceeded the actual distances for each event during my training.
Despite all that, there was still some doubt in the back of my mind. I've always been more of an anaerobic athlete, after all -- baseball, basketball, hockey -- and was never a fan of endurance events. So the thought of doing 3 of them in a row, without stopping, occasionally makes me think I'm just fooling myself.
But today, I turned some sort of magical corner, halfway between determined dedication and completely crazy. My training schedule told me that today was a swim day, 35 minutes. I knew it was supposed to rain today, and it was freezing-ass cold.
But I swam anyway. In the cold rain. For 35 straight minutes and 1300 yards (that's 52 lengths of the half-Olympic-sized pool, bitches). I even got out of the pool after 2 laps and ran to my car to get the goggles I had left behind.
I am ready.
