In an effort to keep up my motivation for exercise, I’ve decided to train for the same sprint triathlon that I did last spring. This one, ie the one where I could only see out of one eye, was close to naked in 45-degree weather, fell during the last half mile of the run and cried across the finish line. The one the Modern Love Machine followed up with a proposal of marriage (man, he’s going to have to think of something REALLY GOOD to reward me for finishing this year’s race).

Last year’s goal was just to finish since I only spent two weeks training, but this year I’m started my training a good seven weeks earlier. That means this year’s goal is to be better prepared and to finish with a much better time.

The ‘finish with a better time’ goal is the harder one, right? I mean, to be better prepared this time I just need to schedule an eye doctor appointment more than a few days in advance of the race and not let that man talk me into anything other than the contacts I’ve been wearing for the past five years. And come with a wet suit (which will probably guarantee a much warmer day or a swim in the indoor pool).

No, apparently the ‘be prepared’ motto of my Girl Scout youth needs to go into effect ASAP. I had yesterday off of work and decided I need to put in some good, honest time at the pool. Because it was cold and rainy it took serious motivation to go to the Y, even though the Y’s pool waters are comfortably warm. I got all strapped in to my triathlon suit, popped in my contacts (which I hate doing), got my swim accessories together, drove to the downtown Y, scraped together pennies and nickels and dimes to pay the 50 cents to park (I had told myself to grab some quarters before I left the house and still forgot. Ahem, be prepared), trooped down to the locker room, negotiated my swim cap and goggles and trudged over to the pool entrance.

It was locked.

Of course it was close, it was 2:30. The pool closes from 2-4 every weekday afternoon. I hadn’t been in a regular swim routine in a year, I did not remember this. I spent a few minutes collecting myself in the sauna and then went and did 25 minutes on the upright bike instead. In my triathlon suit, which only looks like a normal getup when you’re swimming or actually competing in a race. Without a magazine or iPod to pass the time, which meant staring at Dr. Oz or Dr. Stork or whatever ridiculous show was on the TV.**

Maybe that ‘finish with better time’ goal isn’t the harder one after all.

**I noticed all the formal guests on this show wore lab coats. I won’t question whether these people are real doctors, but I will question the notion that they’re the kind of doctors who wear lab coats for their daily jobs. I will bet anyone that they’re issued a lab coat the moment they arrive at the TV studio by some perky assistant whose main job is to issue lab coats and fetch water for the guests.