Every now and then, my Mother will get it in her head, that she'd like to compete in some sort of sporting event... and believing me to be an athlete, she will often drag me along.
A few days ago, she announced that she'd like to do a "team triathlon" with my Aunt, who would round out our trusty trio.
My Aunt has a pool, so it made sense that she would and could, take care of the swimming portion of our triathlon. So that left running and cycling up for grabs. The conversation, via text, went something like this:
Mom: Do you want to run or bike?
Me: I really like to sit. I'm choosing the bike.
Mom: Do you know how long each leg is?
Well, do you? I do. And it's not pretty. The swimming leg, is one mile. We figured it out, and my Aunt will have to swim the length of her pool, 97 times. I say, good luck with that. The running portion is a 10k... my Mother has done a few 5k's in her life and I think she can probably handle this with ease, given some training and time. The cycling... well, the cycling is TWENTY FIVE miles. So...
Today, I pulled my bike out for the first time in seven years.
I rode one mile.
In seven minutes.
And very nearly threw up.
This should go well.