So I told y'all I've been going to the gym, yeah? Like every day, you know, for real.
I've been following this training program I downloaded for the last few weeks to the letter. It tells me to bike for 35 minutes, I bike for 35 minutes. It tells me to do ten evil lunges on Tuesdays, that's what I do.
The basic gist of the plan is to be able to do a Sprint (short) Triathlon at the end of the 12 weeks. I figure I'll do the plan twice in a row, then maybe think about signing up for some wimpy little race somewhere. The kind where everybody wins and gets a hug, preferably.
So, triathlons being three-sport games, the plan mostly revolves around those three sports: bike, run, swim. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, I run and swim. Sundays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, bike and weights. It's great! Exhausting and insane! And great!
So today I checked my little online training guide to see what the good word was today, and it was a 20-minute run followed by a 600-yard swim. Not bad, as these things go. Except for the fact that I am molto retardolicious when it comes to simple math, and I can never remember how many laps I have to swim in a M.F. 25-yard pool in order for those yards to add up to a certain larger number, like 600.
Good lord! all the people say. A child could do that math! A child does do that math, every blessed day, usually by the third grade!
You are right, but that doesn't help me a bit when I am in the pool and busy being stupid.
The pool portion of the workout took curiously long to complete today, and I was almost late for work, but I did those damn laps, jumped in the shower at the Y, jammed some gel in my hair, pulled on the fancy pants and went to work, exhausted.
It wasn't until about three o'clock this afternoon that I realized I had actually completed 1200 yards today in the pool, due to my superior mental skills.
No wonder I'm so damn tired.