When Sarah was 12, she was a bit chubby. I was running 60 miles a week and had a chubby kid at home. I decided we should both try roller blading. We loved it once we got the hang of it (no small feat). We would go every night after I got done working and skate in this neighborhood next to the rec center. There was one street in particular that was awesome because it was smooth and closed to traffic after dark. We loved that street.
One night Sarah found a little baby frog and was skating with the frog in her hand. Sometimes when you rollerblade, you fall. That night Sarah fell with the frog in her hand. Being Sarah, her first thought was for the frog; so she fell with her hand outstretched so she wouldn't squish him. The frog was fine, Sarah took a hit to the chin that took 22 stitches to close up.
Two days later I had her back out on those rollerblades. She was so mad, she didn't want to skate, she was scared, her chin still had stitches in it, I was a 'mean old' mom... But she skated, she had to, I made her. I always heard, you fall off the horse, you gotta get right back on or you'll never get back on...
I guess if I'm going to follow my own wisdom, I'd better sign up for the Colonial Beach Olympic triathlon this weekend. Steve's doing it. The swim is only 1,000m not 1,500. The horrible experience of that last swim is still on my mind. I think the only way to get past it is to get back on the horse before I have time to think about it.
I can think of at least 10 reasons not to do it; I guess that means I'd better do it.