I had my first open water swim? session (at Coney Island). It was crazy-business!

The swim: Didn't do much actual swimming because:

(1) without pool lane lines or walls or floor markings I can’t swim straight (or in any particular desired direction) so after a few strokes I would look up, be off course and doggy-paddle back…only to do another few strokes (presumably in the right direction), look up, see that I had veered off again and doggy-paddle back. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

(2) the water is murky mossy green so I couldn’t see anything underwater until I was touching it (i.e. other swimmers shoulders, arms, kicking feet, etc.). There is a lot of:

(a) bumping, pushing and overlapping limps;

(b) near misses in terms of seeing kicking feet only right before they are about to

kick you in the face or head; and

(c) feeling other people’s fingers graze my legs.

(3) Bottomline: lots of discombobulated non-swimming-floating occured. Rawr!

After the swim? session was a doozy too:

(1) nostril and throat burn from much salt water inhaled

(2) drippy, stuffy nose (always follows swims for me)

(3) peeing in the gross Coney Island public bathroom afterward. While necessary hover-crafting, I looked down to see my shoelace was dunked in a puddle, presumably of pee…

Final Conclusion: Not so bad…hear me out…I did not drown or near-drown or have an anxiety attack of any kind. I did not need the lifeguard to save me. I refrained from clinging to another swimmer and calling it quits when waves smashed me. Call it a low bar. Call it whatever you want. I survived and that is what counts!

While on the subject (sorta), more things that are disgusting about training:

(a) extreme dry face after swimming (i.e. flaking and peeling)

(b) enormous kamakazee bugs that bounce off your face or helmet as you bike – worst when they feel like they are stuck IN your helmet (lots of vigorous shaking and dangerous weaving riding when this happens)

(c) dead bugs stuck on my shirt or arms after bike-riding (they can't be brushed off because of the sweat)

(d) the amount of sweaty, crusty work-out laundry at the end of each week

(e) the general sweat grime and associated stench

(f) I think I warned everyone about full disclosure?!?!

Have no pictures from Coney Island. However...

Please donate if you haven't already. If you have meant to get around to donating, please do so this week! The tri is right around the corner (gulp). I would appreciate any amount that you can spare. THANK YOU!

8.19.10

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FOUR.FEATHERING

How does one bike downhill? The prevailing guidance is to pedal on a high gear, keep the inner knee (in reference to turns) up, keep my hands in a position where I can maintain control of the bike and if necessary, feather both brakes.

F.E.A.t.h.e.R.I.n.G, translated into Kim-ese: FEARInduced Gripping.

On a downhill, my great fear of speed makes me strangle my brakes and handlebars; I rapidly, frantically, forcefully squeeze both brakes in a desperate pulsating fashion. My hands sweat. Feathering my ass. I often think about getting off my bike to walk it downhill.

Other things I continue to fear, even after several weeks of training:

• NYC pigeons that have grown too accustomed to close contact with humans and bikes and that peck at food in the middle of the road and do not fly away until the very last moment. I really don’t want pigeon skewer in my bike wheels.
• other bikers or runners, walkers or dogs
• cars, especially cabs and buses
• riding on avenues, near hotels or other trafficky areas

Alas, please donate. Donating includes: (a) giving a few bucks via this site; (b) giving me cash; (c) forwarding this to someone who might donate; (d) giving me a great fundraising idea; and/or (e) any other way you think you can help. THANK YOU.

8.1.10

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THREE. Survival Swimming.

SO, I’ve always said I knew how to swim. I was pretty decent at it. I can keep my head above water. I can get from point A to point B. I’ve passed swim tests at camp. I can swim. Learned Fact: the above is FALSE. I don’t really know how to swim.

What I realized I can do is survival swimming. Definition of survival swimming: can travel a very short distance in water without drowning by expending enormous energy and effort kicking, straining, gasping and furiously paddling to cover said short distance and keep my head above water. Energy expended hugely disproportionate to distance covered.

Survival swimming, I have realized, is very different from actually knowing how to swim. Quite the dilemma when facing a .9 mile swim with no ledge to cling on to when my frantic survival swim trashing has exhausted me… Must learn to swim.

Too bad I can’t just strap on floaters and a snorkel mask for the swim part…

Please donate if you haven't already. I would appreciate any amount that you can spare. THANK YOU!

6.14.10

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO.Powerhouse?!

I learned today that my buttocks will serve as my physical “powerhouse” for getting through the triathlon. Hence, I thought it would be appropriate to pay homage to my recently bruised powerhouse(s). Plural? No, I have not grown a second tushy…

I digress…familia, cover the 2 lines below with your finger and read on.

Can’t help but think, this is just another example of

how everything ends up being about booty!

Powerhouse Bruise #1: I took a four-hour bike ride the other day. I kid you not. I thought it would be no big deal as long as I biked slowly and stopped periodically. Result? For 2 - 3 days afterwards my powerhouse felt broken. Punched. Beaten. Woefully tender. Sitting on a bed or moving a leg sideways made me cringe in pain. Berty did the bike ride with me and described his pain as a “throbbing posterior-hernial explosion.” Enough said. Lesson learned: must wear padded bike shorts whenever I go biking.

Powerhouse Bruise #2: Early this morning I went for my first practice run. Having the (hazy) memory of being in shape in the past, I thought, no big deal. Instead: profuse sweating, gasping for air, leaden feet, swinging my arms in vain to try to propel me forward. It was torturous. I was crawling. Then the 5 minute time was called; only ½ of the warm-up was completed.

Thoughts while crawling? I suck at this. My emotional powerhouse felt broken. Note: I rallied though and completed the practice (albeit slowly).

Post-nausea thoughts? Totally normal after taking over a year off. Right? Right. I will prevail. One freakin trembly, leaden step at a time.

Please donate. Any amount will be appreciated. Wouldn’t it be cool to reach $10,000?

6.5.2010

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ONE. Hello!

Admission: I took a year+ completely off from: (1) virtually any sort of physical activity; (2) feeling healthy; and (3) life.

Thoughts on the matter: It happens…but now the slothdom-hermit stage must be over! Time move forward, up and out of this nebulous state of overly rested unrest.

How? Sign up for a triathlon and commit to trying to (1) fundraise for a worthy cause and (2) swim, bike, run.

Why a Tri?

(A) Powerlessness. There are so many (too many) things that we are powerless against. That reality can overwhelm or marginalize the fact that we do have the ability to stretch/expand/push certain areas and limits. We can always try. Always. I cannot win this race (or even come close) and I might not even be able to finish, but I can try. I cannot prevent all illness but I can help raise money to provide those with the know-how to find a way to prevent or mitigate the effects of illness. I am trying to focus on what I can do, rather than what I am powerless against. This is all outside my comfort zone, but I want to try to do it.

(B) Hilarity. My training and my attempt at completing this triathlon will, no doubt, be a hilarious endeavor. Imagine the many ludicrious moments that will stem from putting me: (i) in water (note: open water); (ii) on a bike (while wet?!); followed by (iii) running (in my bathingsuit?). Hilarious. I will share. Stay tuned.

(C) It would make me kick-ass…right? Obviously.

Please donate something. Anything. If it strikes a cord, do it for the cause. If reading about my stumbles might make you giggle, do it for the hilarity. If both sound good, donate double! Or just once. Or just forward this to someone who can donate. Or just meet me for brunch. THANK YOU.

5.23.2010