I'll give you the Beatles version, because I grew up with a Beatles-fanatic father...but I've always been a little partial to Joe Cocker's version myself (and no, not because it was The Wonder Years theme song).
Anyway, do you remember this guy?
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| By ßlåçk Pærl (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons |
Yeah, it's my good friend, the Open Water Swimming Monkey. He's not smiling or yawning - he's getting ready to sink his fangs into my back while I'm in the river or lake. I guess it is more accurate to say that we are NOT friends. Not at all. But last night he came to visit me anyway.
I wasn't even going to go to OWS practice, because my daughter had a middle school soccer game (and I feel like I have missed too many of her things this spring as it is between my races and my other daughter's activities). On the other hand, Raleigh is less than 3 weeks away and I have not really been in the open water to truly swim. So after having serious mental mama drama, I decided to go to the swim.
And I hated it. It was hard. I forgot everything good I learned last year. I panicked. I freaked. I wanted to quit. I tried to quit - but one of my friends was there..and she didn't let me. And I am grateful. Usually it's my mean old husband that keeps me from quitting by mistake, but he was at the soccer game, etc., with the girls. So it was good to have someone else there pushing me and watching my back. I hope that I won't need it anymore - it seemed as the season went on last year, I was less frightened about OWS. But last night I needed the kick in the pants. Or wetsuit as it were. Triathlon is a good place to have friends.
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