I've Got a Fever and the Only Prescription is a...Triathlon?

Hey party people. Where have you been all my life? I feel so far away from you guys. Listen, I would've written sooner about all of the exciting things in my life, but I've been dealing with tonsils the size of the Dallas metroplex due to a little malady called Streptococcus. A couple of really strong shots in my I-think-you-know-where, a 10-day round of antibiotics, and a little bit gallon of Vicodin later, I'm all fixed up. Except for the fact that I now, at the age of 28, get the privilege of scheduling my next surgical procedure in the form of a tonsillectomy. On the upside, I can check on all of my friends over at Memorial Hospital. Wouldn't want to go too long without seeing those guys.

Once I finished that, the people who employ me wanted me to "get back to work" and "catch up on all my responsibilities." Sheesh. Slave-drivers.

Oh, and I also started training for a little thing I like to call My First (and Most Likely Last) Triathlon. Henceforth referred to as MFMLLT. If you have known me for any length of time, or probably almost no length of time, you know that I'm not so great at things that require endurance, discipline, getting out of bed before 6am, increasing my heart rate, coordination, a positive attitude, breathing at 6000+ feet and what-have-you. It has become apparent to me that successfully completing a triathlon will require most of these things. Especially the what-have-you. That's a key component.

Additionally, triathlons are expensive. In the last month, I have had to purchase the following:
*Bike- because, for some reason, they don't provide those
*Helmet- see previous allusion to the fact that coordination is not my strong suit
*Swimsuit- because my friends stated that no, I couldn't wear my polka dotted one-piece from the GAP
*Therapy- to try to identify what possessed me to sign up for this
*Goggles- because I like to be able to see how incredibly far I still am from hitting the wall
*Swim caps- it's a "look" and I was choking on my hair
*Visine- to help with dryness from All The Crying

Not to mention the fact that they make you PAY REAL MONEY to partcipate in the race. Honestly, what kind of sane person pays to be tortured for two (let's be honest, three or more) hours?

At least I'm starting to look the part. As soon as that starting gun(?), whistle(?), horn(?) goes off though, I will quickly be deemed a novice. I don't think I'll have the time or energy to care though. I'm just hoping I cross the finish line before they close the course.

So that's what's on the agenda for me. I may be exceedingly absent from the blog in the coming months because I can't waste any energy on things like thinking. In fact, my waking moments will forthwith be spent in a hyperbaric chamber. Godspeed.