Pruney Hands & Honey Badgers

I despise the swim.  

Some love it. I even know people that swim to relax, refocus.

Don’t care, I still don’t like swimming. 

I could be positive and think about how when I began triathloning in 2012, I didn’t know how to swim.  I was petrified of going out in the open water and looked akin to a blender having a fight with a chainsaw when I swam,  “double, double toil and trouble,” right Billy Shakespeare?

Nope, still don’t enjoy it, at all. 

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But what I like and don’t like, doesn’t matter.  I’m a triathlete, that means I have to swim.  The swim is like the Honey Badger.  Remember that viral video from 2011?  How the Honey Badger don’t care?  Swim don’t care how I feel because the swim is the gatekeeper to the run and the bike.  You got to bow up and bowl over Honey Badger to get to the rest of the race.

It took a few years, but I figured out how to make the bike do the work for me when I become fatigued.  In the run, I can always pull back pace or even walk should I need to.  But in the swim, stop moving and you’re going to sink.  Yeah, yeah, blah, blah float this and that, but I don’t float, it’s an anomaly.  I’ll sink.  There is no ‘coasting’ in the swim. 

Over the last six weeks, I’ve skipped eight...oh the utter shame of admitting that...swim workouts.  EIGHT! I don’t even have a good excuse, like an ear infection or a broken limb or a family emergency or an odd fungus betwixt my toes, or the flu, or every pool in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex being closed for repairs.

No. 

All I’ve got is: I despise swimming.

Lame.  I’m aware. 

But now is the time to bow up to that Honey Badger.  Pay the back taxes on that swim and makeup those eight swims.  It’ll take a couple of weeks (because Coach already has other swims/workouts I will need to work my makeup swims around) but I’m committed to giving that Honey Badger a pruney five-fingered smack-down (because when I’m all caught up, I’ll prolly have permanent pruney hands and feet) and see if he cares then.  Prolly won’t, but by then, I won’t care either.

Gotta go swim.

Deuces.