Tri And Stop Me

Recently I was the recipient of a Hardy family group text. Normally I try to ignore these encounters because it almost always ends up with someone involved in the conversation showing off some form of nudity. If by some miracle there is no naked bits shown one can at least count on a million notifications coming through since there are six million of us. The topic of this particular group convo was about the upcoming sprint triathlon held at the Rigby lake. There were a coupe of things wrong with this. 1. swimming in that lake will lead to STD's, getting an extra tail, or seeing dead bodies. 2. Triathlon. What more needs to be said about that? I politely stayed out of it not once but twice but then the permanent line around my midsection from my pants being too tight began to force me into the abyss. Jeta talked all fancy to me and before I knew it I had enrolled in the stupid race. Naturally I convinced Old Man Myers to train with me.
She and Jeff have formulated some training schedule and so I printed it out and tried to convince myself that I knew how to ride a bike and if I was being chased I could no doubt run the required 3.1 miles and so all I had left to conquer was the silly swimming. So when that was the first item on the list I confidently announced that the Myers family would be heading to the pool. Upon hearing this my body protested and I instead wound up in bed with a fever.
Normally I would have taken this as a sign that my sedentary lifestyle must stay but again I got swept up in the fancy talk and so when it came back around on the training schedule I announced we were heading to the pool. Upon hearing this my body protested and instead of swimming I used my arm muscles to whip up a batch of rice krispy treats. I promised myself just one treat and we would go but one turned into twenty and then I realized that I would have to leave the house and so when the boys came down to tell me it was time to go swimming I instead bought them off with marshmallowy goodness.
Saturday marks the end of the training week and it also was the last day to swim so when I announced once more that the Myers would go get wet the boys got smart. They employed every guilt tactic they had and before my rational brain could convince me otherwise I found myself in the car headed to the pool. I only had to swim 200 yards. That is 8 laps. I have 8 fingers so I figured it can't be that many. Myers convinced me that there would be no one in the pool so I didn't have to worry about how dumb I was going to look. All things were looking up really. Then we got there
Turns out 6:15 on a Saturday night is the perfect time to go swim so naturally the placed was packed. The swim lane was being occupied by a girl who actually knew what she was doing so that was out. And wouldn't you know right next to her were two of the most fit 20 something boys you have ever seen butterfly stroking like it was the easiest thing in the world. On the other side of them were several families trying to teach their littles how to swim. I actually considered asking for a quick lesson. There was a small gap between the super fits and the super littles so we decided to swim into that gap. I hefted my overweight old lady bones into the water and shoved off with all the grace of a horse with a broken leg. I knew three strokes in that I was in big trouble but tried to convince myself that I could go 4 laps before I took a break. On the way back to the other side of the pool I tried to make eye contact with the lifeguard to let him know I was possibly at risk for drowning but he was busy ignoring me. I kept swimming at made it to the diving board where a kid was giving me a dirty look because he couldn't leap with me splashing around pretending to swim. I made it to the wall and turned for lap three. By this point I was saying a silent prayer that went a little something like dear Jesus don't let me die because I am not ready to meet you just yet. Half way through the pool I started to wonder if I was even moving and had a small panic attack but realized that I was because I was swallowing water at an alarming rate and I would never drink pee water on purpose which is EXACTLY what pool water is! When I hit the wall to turn for my forth lap I was beyond miserable. As I turned I formulated a plan to just scream at the lifeguard hey moron I am dying save me but it turns out I couldn't even breath enough to spit out anything so I kept going. You will never believe who I ran into again- yep the kid on the diving board who was still giving me dirty looks. If I had the energy I would have lectured him but I this point I had to prioritize. First priority not die so you know I let it slide.
After four laps I realized that my swimming partner wasn't swimming with me and I looked around to see Myers an unsettling shade of purple. I might not win any wife points but we are training so instead of asking if he was okay I simply said come on man we have 4 more laps.
The next four laps were as ugly as the first four and by the end when I got to the wall Thing One accidentally swam in front of me and for a split second I thought I was going to go under because I could not find the strength to swim around him. Obviously I didn't and some how some way managed to heave myself out of the pool and join my spouse for a coughing wheezing fit on the side of the pool. After sitting for a good 30 minutes we decided our legs would most likely hold us up and we went to get changed and leave. As he was exiting he passed the lifeguard who stopped him and said hey tell your wife I am really proud of her she did some really hard work out there. Yep turns out the lifeguard was watching me the whole time worried sick that he might have to jump in and save my sorry can. This is what one would call salt in an open wound.
Tonight we have to hit the pool again and I am sure it will not end well but if it does do you think you could do me a little favor and show up at Rigby Lake on July 8th with a knife and chase me so as I can maybe just maybe finish this thing? Exercise sucks.