Shark Bait

With my ultimate goal of not disrupting the family during my search of what happens on the road to 40, I usually have to have some semblance of exercise before everyone wakes up.  Seeing that my daughter is getting up earlier and earlier as she gets older, Daddy usually has to be mobile when there is a 3 on the clock.  Pretty soon I'm going to be eating breakfast the night before, lunch at 7a and dinner at noon.  Its kind of like living in Boca Raton when you're 80; all I need is a Cadillac with a Presidential Edition insignia in gold on the side.

With one week until my first half ironman, I thought it might be a good idea to try out the wetsuit that I haven't worn since 2002.  It has looked so cool in my closet this whole time; all black neoprene with wide shoulders and contoured waist dangling through several closet moves with memories of when I felt comfortable wearing a wetsuit in public.  Its really going to be a shame to actually have to put it on.

I went to the pool at 3.30a and entered the empty locker room that was surprisingly open at that hour.  The bench, where I normally change my clothes, is parallel to a full length mirror where I am forced to ultimately stare at how time has altered this wight.  But there I was, 3.30a, jumping up and down in an empty locker room trying to fit into a time capsule.  Once the leg hairs were completely removed as I was able to get the body cast up to my waist I was actually pretty impressed with what I saw.  Try to picture a cross of Dr. Bruce Banner when he gets angry with Fred Berry (See video) in his prime.

When reality set in is when I needed to get things over the middle.  Trying to figure out if I should put my arms in first or pull things over my gut, I went with arms in the sleeves, which seemed like boys size extra small at this point, and pulled things up over my chest.  With an enormous amount of zeal, I felt as if there should be a huge banner behind me reading "Mission Complete."  I'm now sweaty, alone, in a locker room (that in itself is always a bad connotation) and looking in the mirror at the sole reason why people are mistaken for seals while surfing.

Lets hope the race this weekend is well worth the self inflicted ridicule of why a 3.30a inflated wetsuit swim is a character building exercise.