Never tell someone "this is the best car I've ever had" or "I've been training like a rockstar, things are great." In a desperate attempt to channel Wil Emery in July, I've fallen upon a series of unexpected maladies.  

But before I get into that, a few items of note:

1. I've finally committed to no longer going through life "fat and stupid." Maybe it was my pants fitting too tight one too many times. Or eating a burger, one of those things I used to inhale, and feeling like my abdomen was the soon-to-be cocoon for an alien being. Or just being tired of not keeping up with my riding partners and feeling like death on a Felt. 

2. in the process of changing my abysmal eating habits and riding on a regular basis (wait for it...the maladies are coming), I committed to my first tri - Cedars of Lebanon on August 28. I'm pretty sure that commitment was made in a post-ride happy-hour haze of male machismo. I swim like a wounded walrus. Fortunately I have a soccer-playing phenomenon for a daughter who I employed to run the 3 short miles I refuse to attempt. So if I can float for 300 yards, I can shred the 18 miles and let her run. 

Back to the maladies. I made the ugly mistake of telling a couple of people "(beating chest) I am a maniac on the bike...training like a beast. Give me enough water and bananas and I'll give that Contador guy heartburn." 

It was probably two days later and I had Strep Throat. Who gets Strep Throat at 42? I won't tell you what most people said was the cause. Just a few days later, I get an unexplained "inflammation of the blood vessels" in my left eye. "Hey Eric, who punched you in the eye." Or, "what are you smoking that makes ONE eye red?" ANYWAY, don't brag about your training. Shut your pie hole and keep your head down or the karma-snakes will take your feet right out from under you. 

So far I've tried to swim twice. Let me now apologize to all the walruses I offended with my earlier statement. I get in the pool at the YMCA and the lifeguards immediately stand up. I'm not sure if they thought I was going to drown or that they'd never seen an albino sea donkey swimming the breast stroke...then the side stroke, then backstroke, then stopping and gagging. 

Needless to say, I was more than pleased that I did 300 yards in an astounding 9:31 last night. I didn't even get sick in the pool. Allen, I know you're reading this and laughing...probably even choking on one of those flat-bread peanut-butter things you eat. Just wait until Saturday, August 28 at the Cedars of Lebanon trialthlon. Don't bring anything that could get stuck in your windpipe. I can't be responsible for your untimely demise while laughing at "The ACME Amateur."