I thought it was time to get involved in a real sport so I could get some “gear.”  Even my mom, for whom a big exercise activity is making the bed in the morning, has a pedometer she wears under her bathrobe. 

Then came the hard part: what sport?  I briefly considered basketball, where I have some experience.  For example, I played on a college team where, over the course of the season, we never lost a game by less than 80 points.  I am not making this up.  Also, in the interest of accuracy, I should tell you we played mostly high school teams. 

Despite my clear on-the-court know-how, I decided I might benefit from casting a wider net.  I pooh-poohed contract bridge (too stressful) before letting a personal trainer (not mine) in on my dilemma.  I should have taken my double scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream with hot fudge and gotten out of there before she offered her advice.  She is the type of person who sends out those “I just won a 413-mile bike race, even though I did the whole thing sidesaddle”-type emails.

She suggested triathlons.  I said yes right away, which may say something about my intelligence.  At that time (late August 2002), I had never run more than two miles or biked more than three.  Also, the bike I had was purchased by my grandfather in, I kid you not, 1983.  Luckily, it wasn’t purchased for me, or it would have had training wheels.  The one thing I had going for me was my swimming, which is probably why she suggested triathlons.  About a week after our conversation, she moved to New York and I have not seen her since -- so much for guidance and assistance!!!

So, there I was, ready to be a triathlete but totally high and dry.  I decided I needed two things to get started: 1) a t-shirt; and 2) some advice.  I joined the Chicago Tri Club in September, which made good on both counts.  I attended a social committee meeting,  where I met a mentor of sorts, who has been really quite wonderful about explaining essential things like why I should not have signed up for the Galena Tri because it is very hilly and, since I have never biked on hills before, that could be a problem for me, especially if it is windy. 

My mentor (who is refusing to be named) also encouraged me to become a member of USATriathlon (not to be confused with USATT – USA Table Tennis – or UAST – Ukrainian American Society of Texas).  My $35 membership fee allows me to give my 6-digit number and save on registration fees for all the triathlons for which I am optimistically signing up.  The other nice thing about belonging to organizations is the “member discounts” and gift certificates I get, which facilitate my accumulation of gear. 

The big gear purchase I had to make was to buy a bike.  I was all set to keep the bike I had, but realized early on that there was going to be a problem if the handlebars kept rotating down like that.  It was kind of like cranking a 1940s car the way they spun around.  I went to Johnny Sprockets and selected a very nice Bianchi racing bike with green-wall tires.  After I bought my bike, I found out there are special tri bikes that supposedly make it easier to start running after the bike portion of the tri.  I kind of assume it doesn’t make too much of a difference for me, because I am still getting the hang of things.  For example, this weekend I spent several minutes riding in circles around the totem pole at Addison and the lake, trying to bike one-handed.  Luckily, there were no other bikers around at the time, or they would have laughed so hard they would have pedaled right into Lake Shore Drive traffic.

I am actually pretty comfortable with the fact that my bike is a lot better than I am.  I am pretty nice to him, and I spend about 30 minutes a week trying to put air in his tires, so I think we are building the kind of relationship that should last a while.  At least several seasons.

One note: After writing this piece, I sent a nice email to the personal trainer I mentioned above.  It turns out she is training for the Chicago Triathlon, too, so maybe I’ll get the chance to show off my new stuff.