Wannabe Triathlete Completes Grueling Grillathon

Last night at a dinner party, I sat next to a friend who mentioned that she's training for a half marathon and was going for a run this morning.  I confessed that I had really fallen off the exercise wagon and asked if I could join her.

I got home at 11:30 p.m. having consumed several celebratory libations, slept fitfully, then got up at 6:30 a.m. to meet her at sunrise at Town Lake.  We ran a little over 3 miles at a pretty brisk clip...she's 20 years younger than I am and my tongue was hanging out by the time we finished.

Town Lake at Sunrise

Then, on a whim, I drove over to Barton Springs, which is a chilly 68 degrees year round and will make you squeal like you're in the Vienna Boys Choir.  I felt so invigorated that I swam about 1/2 a mile.  At one point I almost bumped into an old guy swimming the opposite direction who shouted at me and splashed water in my face.  My fantasy of competing in the Iron Man suddenly dissolved into a sinking feeling that I was the Tin Man. 

Barton Springs

Afterwards, I met my buddy Jonathan for breakfast.  He's a psychologist by day and a trumpet player by night. His band, The Greatest American Heroes, plays only T.V. theme songs.  It's a vastly under-rated niche.  Jonathan foolishly agreed to help me move a barbecue grill, and in keeping with the fundamental principle of the universe that Nothing is Simple, it got kinda complicated...

You see, I inherited a grill from a friend's boss who died recently, so I decided to give mine to Jonathan in exchange for helping me move it.  A few days earlier, I had called ahead to the U-Haul place that's 2 minutes from my house to make sure they would have a 4' x 8' trailer in stock, which they assured me they would.

You guessed it...they were fresh out.  In fact, the guy behind the counter said they NEVER have them. And when I inquired about renting their one inexpensive truck, he told me it was full of stuff and that the tail lights didn't work.  I'm pretty sure he lives in that truck.  So we drove to another U-Haul place, where we encountered a humorless, scowling woman who spoke in mono-syllables, and her male colleague who had a shaved head covered in tribal tattoos.  From behind, his neck looked like a package of hot dogs.  He should be called U-Scarey!

With trailer in tow, off we went.  Once we picked up my new grill, Jonathan decided to pass his grill along to our mutual friend Tom, who is getting his master's degree in Russian.  Any time you see Tom, he offers you a shot of vodka...a "Stoli moment" as he calls it.  By this point I was feeling invincible, so I had 3 shots...one for each of the grills we were relocating.  And Tom is gonna donate his grill to the Top Drawer Thrift store to complete the "4 grill hand-me-down Circle of Love".  See diagram below. 

My pleasant midday buzz soon turned to nausea and a feeling of general malaise, so I ate some lunch then came home and took a 2 hour nap.  I woke up feeling sore from stem to stern...but it's nice to know at age 49, without having exercised in months, I can still jump out of bed after a late night and do 2/3 of a triathlon and toss back the potato juice like a member of the Politburo.