Do I need to buy one of those penishead thingies?

Scribblista writes: 'I'd like to know your thoughts on the triathlon-like training regime you're preparing to start!'

By 'triathlon', perhaps you're referring to the fact that my lunch today was topped off with a slice of cake, two sugar cookies, and a few gummy bears?

I started running in October, and I'm hooked. And I say this as someone who used to think that running should be saved for dire circumstances like carjackings and the tailored clothing sale at Nordstrom's.

The problem with running, I've discovered, is that the body really wasn't designed to run everyday. Body parts that have--for the last thirty years--provided maintenance-free operation suddenly start to fall apart. Who knew, for example, that there are so many locations around the knee that are capable of feeling pain? And where did this tibialis anterior muscle come from all of a sudden?

So, in an effort to not void the 1,000,000 mile/65 year warranty that came with my body, I've started to diversify. I've begrudgingly returned to spin class twice a week. (But that's another post.) And, I think it's time to look into swimming, even though it's been 20 years since I've done anything in a pool that even resembled coordinated muscle movement.

The fact is that swimming pools terrify me: they represent the same fear that the weightroom represents to most people. (In a prior life, I once bench-pressed 330 pounds three times, which may have something to do with my recent interest in the aerobic arts. I'm currently 35 pounds lighter than I was in my weightlifting days.)

As a first step, I bought a pair of swim goggles, and I was surprised to learn that (1) the design has not changed at all since I was a kiddo and (2) they are still priced at a very reasonable $6.95. The next step isn't going to be as easy: I need to dig through the closet, find the swim trunks, and slip over to the gym's pool during the off-peak hours.

There's more to come on this adventure: stay tuned.