My inspiration was the 2009 New York Triathlon. All those people doing the unthinkable—specifically, jumping into the Hudson River. It just grossed me out. That water must be super toxic; I expected to find them glowing as they emerged from their swim.

Instead, I saw myself. Not then, not now, but soon. And I started thinking...

You see, I am not an athlete. Never have been. Most of my adult life I have been five or ten pounds away from the perfect weight. Two pregnancies sixteen months apart did not make matters any better. Hey, I love my little guys and treasure all the gifts they bestow upon me. Do I love what bringing them into the world did to my body? No, I do not!

So, I am keeping a journal of my adventure and sharing all that I learn along the way. Hey, I can even contribute some useful information. You see, I am a health coach. I already know some stuff...

Saturday, November 14, 2009


I am backtracking a little, so bear with me.

The first thing I did was sign up for a swim class. I swim in that flamboyant, flashy style my mom taught me when I was seven. The idea is to kick, splash and generally create as much drama as possible. Otherwise, how else will everyone know that I am working hard?

Charles, my multisport inspiration, told me about his first time in the swim part of the race. He got kicked in the head, bounced around and pushed under in the initial frenzy of hundreds entering the water all at once. It was frightening and disorienting. He said I needed to train to leave the water as fresh as I entered it. The swim should be the easy part.

He said that it was all in the technique. Get the form right, and the swim is yours. Great! I can do that.

Jack Rabbit Sports has great swim classes. I signed up for one at a pool a few blocks from my home. The class started a few weeks earlier, but I felt confident that I would mesmerize them with my flawless showmanship of fountain-like freestyle.

My friend Pati and I made a detour from our Saturday Greenmarket shopping to go to Paragon Sports to get me all the trimmings. I got a red, white and blue supergirl bathing suit (it was on sale) and a red cap to match. I opted for the clear goggles because red freaks me out and makes me think that I had an aneurysm and am now bleeding out into the water. I was all set!

I got to the pool early, suited up and headed out. Everyone in the class was super-friendly, which made it much less intimidating. It turned out that everyone had already been running, biking, swimming and in great shape for some time.

I introduced myself to the coach and expertly lowered my body into the water. It was cold! We were told to do easy laps, and off we went. Push off, splash, splash, splash... breathe, don't forget to breathe. I made it as far as the pool length—25 meters—and stood there, panting at the wall. Hey! The guy in the other red cap just completed 50! Hmmm, well, he's a guy.

The next 50 were timed. We were off, like the wind or a tsunami or something. Well, not me... on the way back, I lost my breath, gulped, and went under. Finally, red-faced, I doggie-paddled all the way to the wall. I had the slowest time.

For the remainder of the class, we did sprint relays. I won't go into how it quickly became a humiliating massacre to my self-esteem. Regardless, my teammates were amazing and incredibly encouraging. The coach said that I will catch up. I was in!

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