Triathlon. According to Jules

Oh, hello Hudson River.

Full disclosure: I am not even close to a triathlete. So please, do not take the title of this post seriously. 

1. BIKE:

The perfect springy Sunday. So you decide a bike ride is the best possible way to spend it, although the alternative, sitting on your ass and binge watch Criminal Minds, sounds just as appealing. In the end, you go the classy way, put on your neat helmet and shove the bike in the elevator. Pushing pedals under the cherry trees all the way up to George Washington bridge is nice. 

Staaaaaaan!

2. SWIM:

It's Monday and you're STILL totally high on all the goodness Sunday brought. So you make big plans to make it to the pool after work. Only to see your dreams shattered when you find out two of the three experiments you ran on that lovely Monday didn't work and you find yourself stuck in the lab until 10 pm. No pool. And crushed spirits. So you decide that, instead of doing laps, you'll open up a Guinness and order a pizza. Then you decide to open another Guinness and do laundry. Suddenly, it's 2 am and you decide a bikini wax will be an awesome idea. Before you know it, Tuesday rolls around. You feel bloated because of the late night pizza binge. There are very few instances when pizza is NOT a good idea. Midnight being one of those instances. But you manage to escape the lab and get to the pool for a swim. Ole'! 

Hometown glory!

Excited.

Swimming doesn't go according to plan, mostly because instead of keeping track of laps you get continuously distracted by how much you want to bang the cutie from the 12th floor. So, you give up laps and switch to sprints and butterfly instead. Because killing your own arms is a good diversion from thinking about cutie's buff arms. Holy biceps!

Sunset in Central Park.

3. RUN:

Thursday is yet another good day. And again, you make it out of work in the daylight. Time for a quickie run through the park. It is still ridiculously beautiful with trees in bloom everywhere. But since you are a crappy runner, you don't give a damn about miles, speed, breathing, interval training and all that jazz. Your run exactly as fast as you like and stop to smell the flowers (literally!) exactly when you like it. Despite all, you manage to do 5-ish miles (or so Google Maps says). Which makes you a little smug. And very likely means that a month or so will pass until your next run. 

And that, my dears, is how Jules does cycling, swimming and running. 

Now if you'll excuse me while I go stretch my stiffened legs.

Jules