I have, in a moment of, I don’t know, competitiveness, or craziness, or something, signed up for a Triathalon. OK, a mini triathalon. An 8.5 mountain bike ride, a 2 mile trail run and a .5 mile swim.

I LOVE mountain biking, and these are really nice, wide trails, or where they are single track it’s more grassy tire track than real single track.

It’s just that I can’t really swim, because I have this thing about water, and how when you put your face in it, you can’t breathe. Oh, and I don’t generally run unless someone is chasing me with something. Like a brand.

But I did just bike fifty miles, and it wasn’t flat. And I have been trying to run, and I can go a lot farther than I ever could before. I mean, we are talking hundreds of yards here. Uphill, even.

And I arranged some swimming lessons. Actually I “won” them at a silent auction, which is everyone charity’s favorite way of making people feel happy about parting with a little cash. I was going to give them to Lily, but she actually learned to swim while I stood in the shallow end, trying to pretend that I wasn’t cold, hating all the splashing kids and totally incapable of putting my head in the water “without holding my nose!” the way she did, and not shrieking “but how will you breathe!” every time she boldly went where I just don’t go.

My instructor is really good, and I can now swim all the way across the pool in her backyard. Longways. Most of the time.

Do you think they would let me use a noodle? It’s not like I’m going to win…