Digging my own grave.

Today was Lake Day.  I *love* Lake Day, I think we all do, and I will be forever grateful to A for making these possible for us this summer.  It was sunny and hot, the water was warm, and the kids were, for the most part, in good moods.

For those of you who follow this blog, you’ll know that many of my friends are avid exercisers.  For those of you that know me in person, you’ll know that I am not now, nor have ever been, an exerciser of any sort, let alone avid. 

So there I am, at the lake with Roller-Derby-Mom(A2), Exercise-Instructor-Mom(B), Triathlon-Coach-Mom(L), Triathlete-to-be-Mom(S), and Ship’s-Captain-Mountain-Biking-Kayaking-and-I’m-sure-a-million-other-things-I-don’t-know-about-mom(A1).  And me.  It’s tough hanging out with superheroes, I gotta say.

B had asked L if she wanted to do an open water swim.  They came prepared in their Fancy Tri-suits, complete with goggles and swim caps.    Now, L has had quite a journey with the swimming part of the Triathlon.  It is, by a long stretch, her least favorite part.  She didn’t swim before she started training, and only did it because, well, you can’t do a Tri without it.  She now does well in the pool, but her only open water swim before today was trouble.  She told us today that the boat had to come pick her up halfway because she couldn’t finish.  To me, getting halfway on your first shot is *great*, but she didn’t seem too thrilled about it.

As she’s mulling over this, S & B decide to swim across the lake to the other side.  Now, I truly believe B can do anything (and she’s yet to prove me wrong) and I was so impressed with S since I’d never seen her in action before.  They came back, not even winded (I think I got more winded cheering for them).

And there sits L, considering why she shouldn’t try it.  We talked about it, and B offered to swim with her (’cause she *can* do it twice), and take a floatie, just in case.  L’s not sold.  Then I had to do it.  I had to open my big mouth.  I hit below the belt.  I gave her the reason I knew she wouldn’t refuse because I know her.  I did this because I *knew* she could do it.  And so she did.  B went with her, but she did *not* need the floatie, she did *not* struggle, and she came through like a champ.  No boat needed to rescue her either.

Here’s the reason I gave her, and here’s the digging my own grave part.  I had told her that I would start the Couch Potato to 5K program with her coaching me in September.  As that date approaches, I’ve become a little dodgy about it.  I have *never* in my life done any form of real exercise.  I think I went to an aerobics class once in the 90′s.  I despise being hot and sweaty.  So I pretty much asked her how she was going to coach me to do all those things *I* didn’t want to do when she wasn’t doing this.  So, being L, she did it.  And now, I don’t have a leg to stand on.  And not only did she *try* (which would have been good enough in the grave digging department), she aced it.

So yes, I will be out there mid-September with my new shoes and my bad attitude, and a coach who walks her talk (which is the best/worst kind).  And I will bring out my best excuses and my whiniest whine, and she will smile sweetly and say, “remember that day at the lake…”