Geg and I have had a falling out.  That’s Greg Glassman, the founder of Crossfit.  I found someone else.  I know I have not really given our relationship a chance (was more of a one night stand), but it just wasn’t meant to be.  Literally. My DNA says so.  I had my DNA tested for a food and exercise profile.  It turns out that my injury risk is high and than my exercise profile is 30% power and 70% endurance.  

I will never look like this:

That is a good thing. 

But I might look like this:

That would be a very good thing. 

Goals have been realigned to do a triathlon in 2017.  Why so long, you ask?  I currently don’t run, swim or cycle.

Running shoes have been bought and shelved.  I thought I would start with the easy ones first, watching YouTube videos on how to start running gave me a headache. Swimming?  I can swim.  I mostly swim breaststroke.  I don’t think breaststroke is going to cut it in a triathlon. Swimming lesson booked for tomorrow at noon.  Do you think turning up in a full burkini will seem odd? 

Cycling next.  Sauntered into my local cycle shop on Saturday, looking all relaxed and knowledgeable. I am now very stressed and confused (I was always confused, the other thing was just an act, but I think I carried it off!). The conversation went something like this: 

“Hello, can I help you?” 

“Yes I’d like to look at a triathlon or TT bike please” (TT! No, I don’t know what it stands for) 

“Have you done a triathlon before?” 

“No” 

“Do you train on a road bike?” 

“No” 

“Do you own a road bike?” 

“No” 

“Do you cycle?” 

“No” 

“Do you have any cleats?” 

“Pardon?” 

I then had some explaining to do.  As did he, cleats??! 

My I Need All The Gear alert button (an instrument which has been honed to perfection through the years by pure skill being applied to every conceivable purchasing situation) was suddenly pushed with great force when they wheeled out a second hand beast of a thing that they were selling on behalf of a customer’s wife, which she did not like and had only done 25 miles on (I hope they are still married).  I could be that plonker that turns up to her first cycling club meet on a £3549 bike and fall over, having forgotten to unclip my cleats, at the first red light.  Onto a car.  Sideways. Like a brick.  That image really appealed. And it was an absolute bargain, it appears that bikes lose even more of their value when you drive them away strapped to the back of your car, than your car. And then another chunky percentage when you gingerly lower your buttocks onto the thing they call a saddle. Only my legs are too short.  It was not a good purchasing experience. 

I am currently googling leg lengthening procedures. I might be some time…