I hadn’t even seen the dark waters of the Hudson river in early morning light, but I was already thinking about what it would be like to drown in it.

It the 2005 NYC Triathlon, and like everyone else who’s faced a swim in an open body of water at their first triathlon, I was freaking out.

The journey had begun back in 2004, a late winter night.  The week before, one of my gym instructors announced he was starting up a triathlon club.  He encouraged anyone interested to come to Toga bikes the following Tuesday.  I had seen the Dick and Ricky Hoyt videos.  I had seen the Julie Moss crawl.  I saw the Gatorade Chris Legh tale. I was a gym bunny, I was motivated, and I was single.  I thought I’d give it a go.

Toga Bikes

When I walked into the bike store the following week, my jaw clenched. I would have browsed around but I had no reason to buy anything. Everyone there was tight, taut, with shining shaved legs and round bulges of shoulders and biceps straining underarmour shirts or collared office gear.

I didn’t even own a bike. I didn’t even have the shoes. I just really liked spin class.
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