Last summer, around early June, in fact, I was at Rich and Liora’s wedding, contemplating a second beer and wondering what we were going to have for dinner when I started talking with my friend, Scott, about exercising and working out and all the various and sundry physical things there are to do in Southern California. I’d been lifting weights and riding my bike to work for the past two years, and had finally burned off all the pounds I’d put on in Big Bear. I was feeling svelte, and I was also getting bored.
“You know,” said Scott, “you ought to give triathlons a shot. There are shorter distance races than the Ironman, and I think you’d really enjoy it.”
And thus began the plan to become a triathlete. Scott and I would do a sprint tri together, and, maybe, if I felt up to it, I’d do a few others over the next year. I went and bought running shoes and started saving for a road bike. This would be cool, and I wouldn’t go off the deep end and do something foolish and rash like I always do. (more…)
