A couple weeks ago I was all gung-ho about making my triumphant return to working out (once you get to know me you’ll realize that I have a lot of “triumphant returns” to exercising). After my last race at the end of September, I took a couple months off to sit on my ass and get fat (I succeeded too!). I wanted to get back into serious training for the ‘09 season, so I started running, cycling, and killing my triceps in order to get all aggro about exercising again.
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One of my greatest triathlon weaknesses (aside from running and biking, of course) is swimming. I don’t like swimming. I feel like my stamina in the water sucks, I drag my arm too much, my turnover is too slow, I’m either too hot or too cold, my wet suit is ghetto and ill-fitting, and I find swim training boring and craptacular. My disdain for swimming has reflected in my swim times: every race except for one has resulted in disappointment.
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When Jason and I entered our freshman year of triathlons, we didn’t want to invest much money into the sport because we were unsure as to whether or not we’d like it. Scientifically speaking, triathlons cost a buttload of money. There’s running shoes, triathlon shorts, tri tops, proper running socks, visors, sunglasses, wetsuits, bikes, helmets, bike shoes, fuel, fuel and more fuel, not to mention the cost to sign up for races. That all adds up to a BUTT LOAD of cash. It ain’t cheap.
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This week I tried a yoga class for the first time. Having been unimpressed with Pilates (well, with the class I tried, anyway), I didn’t have high expectations for yoga but nevertheless felt like I should at least give it a try, seeing as how I’ve met my share of buff women who swear by it.
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Flash back to January 2008. Jason and I had just joined a track running group that my coworker, Christine, trained with every Tuesday evening. We were the awkward NKOTBs who were huffing it around the track while fit, wiry runners flew by us. Jason sported baggy Old Navy sweatpants that were at least one size too big and I bounded around on my toes like Pepe LePew. Oh, how far we’ve come since then…(not really.)
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After a freshman season of triathlon races, countless skipped workouts, and entirely too many late night pizza deliveries, MediocreAthlete.com has finally arrived. This site will serve as a diary of sorts for two casual athletes as they experience the joys of long workouts, grueling ice baths, soggy runs in Capitol Hill, smelly swims in Greenlake, numerous bike mechanical failures, diving headfirst onto snowy mountains, tripping on trails, and everything in between. We’ll do our best to provide updates on our workouts, race reports, and anything else we can share in an amusing, self-deprecating manner.
We hope you enjoy living vicariously through our misery. (Hey, someone’s gotta…)
