Sometimes I pretend I’m pretty hard core when it comes to training. But with the triathlon looming in early June and not a swim since like January or something, it’s pretty apparent that I am not hard core.
Sure, every day, I think about swimming, and then I say to myself: But I don’t feeeeel like swimming. I don’t feel like getting up at the butt crack of dawn. I don’t feel like sharing a lane with a lady who only swims breastroke on her back.
I whine to myself a lot.
Yeah, I ride my bike. But not outside. Inside. On the trainer. In front of Fashion Police. Super not hard core.
And then there was Sunday.