Still Alive

For some reason I think about how I may die more frequently than a licensed psychologist might consider healthy. When I’m given to such morbid daydreams, I never imagine that I’ll die in a hospital bed. No peaceful passing for me with family gathered around listening as my last breath pushes out the last feeble word, and then everyone crying, and then arguing about what it was I said. My imagined demise is generally due to some horrible accident or at the hands of evil doers. Am I crazy?

 

When I do go I hope it’s in a dignified way. Not screaming and yelling, “Ahh, it burns!”, or worse, “Don’t tell my wife!” I also don’t want to drown during the swimming leg of a triathlon. That would be embarrassing. I already feel like a pretender when I’m out on the course. Aspirating lake water would not do much for my self-esteem. I think that would be the worst kind of DNF.

 

So I went swimming this morning, instead of sleeping in my bed. I read once that you always do what you most want to do. Which means most mornings I want to lie in bed dreaming of triathlon glory instead of getting up to practice staying on the top side of the water. Though if you were to ask me, “Ken, do you want to swim well in your next triathlon?” I’d say, “Why, yes, thank you for asking.” But obviously what I really want is to be a world champion snoozer. Well, you know what I mean. I just want to do OK in my age group at the next snooze off.

 

This may not be the time or place to mention this, but I would like to come by some goggles that don’t fog me over. This last pair I got said, “Won’t fog you over,” or something along those lines. But they lied. I’ve yet to swim in a triathlon with any kind of vision past the first twenty-five yards or so. I figure if I’m getting jostled now and then and inadvertently slap someone on her butt then I’m going the right way. Generally when I get to the beach I take off my goggles, and then I’m like, “Oh, it’s daytime.”

 

It’s been a while since the last post, but I am still alive. I hope to see you soon, assuming I’m not wearing my goggles.

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About The Pretend Triathlete

Just a 46 year old trying to stay in shape. Not pro-athlete in shape, just 46 year old guy with a family and a house and a job in shape. Signing up for races is the best way I've found to do that. I blog about things that happen to me and things I observe while training and racing. Let's do this!
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