Conspiracy

Mother Nature is plotting against me. To achieve my fitness goals for the summer, I really should be swimming in the lake already, but it hasn't been warm enough yet.

What? You say that lots of people have been swimming at Chatfield? Even some who appear to be relatively sane? Well, OK, I'll concede that, I guess. I suppose I could be swimming out there already; I'd just need a little bit of mental toughness. Or a wetsuit.

Unfortunately, I haven't been able to drag either one of those items out of the closet. All it takes is a cloud or two (or a mercury reading below 80°), and you'll see me driving right past the park entrance, on my way home for my evening nachos and ice cream. Sigh.

Yes, it is a lack of discipline. A character flaw. Another symptom of the decline in American values. An absence of backbone, a manifestation of worldwide malaise, and (in all likelihood) a result of watching too much TV as a kid. Why, it was just a few years back when you'd see me swimming in snowstorms, uphill, 17 miles each way to school and back. I didn't mind turning blue, having to stop to knock ice crystals off my goggles, or losing a few toes to frostbite -- it used to be about the goals, man. What in the world went wrong?

I suppose it would be easy to blame the standard scapegoats: hippies, evil oil companies, and corn farmers. But even if you did remove all petroleum products, high-fructose corn syrup, and B.O. from the world, I suspect I'd find some deeper psychological issues that are preventing me from plunging into the lake. But seriously, people...we've already passed the stinkin' Solstice fergawshsakes! Days are getting shorter from here on out. And yet the cold rain came down most of the day yesterday, and the temperature never got above the shirt-shedding point. Global warming is making this planet cold, dadgummit, and I'm just getting too old to deal with it.

There, I said it. I'm old. No, no, don't argue -- I know that I still appear incredibly youthful and handsome, and that my mind is still as sharp as a 2-year-old's, and that I'm often mistaken for a Harvard undergrad...but the fact is that I've come to cherish my comfort more and more as I've matured. There used to be a certain appeal to engaging in severe behaviors simply for the "build our bodies in the fire of our wills" brownie points, but there comes a time when you realize that those points have no cash value and are not redeemable at any store. I could swim in a cold lake...or I could swim the same distance at the pool and not smell like goose poop afterwards. Hmm.

Still, I'm not giving up. I am planning to swim in the lake -- as soon as it warms up just a tiny bit more. Tomorrow, probably. In the meantime, I'll continue to rant against the conspiracy among meteorologists, SUV owners, and plate tectonicsists that has mired us in this infernal eternal winter. Fight the power, man. Fight the power.

And not that this has anything to do with any of that, but I have decided to enter the Triple Bypass bike ride. It's a 120-mile trek over several mountain passes, which obviously incorporates some pretty serious climbs. And speaking of climbs, I'm considering a hike/jog up to the top of Pike's Peak for this weekend. I'll be running a track practice with my brother on Thursday, and will probably play some tennis in there someplace. I'm thinking of a pretty tough swim practice to throw at the team tomorrow morning, too. So I guess the conspiracy against me hasn't been 100% effective. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, let me know if you have any good ideas for ways to torture the swimmers who are still practicing in the pool with me. And have a great day!