My five seconds as a TRYAthlete

Not to be confused with TriAthlete, I am a TryAthlete. After spending three days with my daughter on a road trip to watch her and a couple of her friends participate in an Olympic Triathlon (including her first ocean swim), I got this crazy notion that with some training, I might be able to do the mini-mini-mini sprint triathlon in the fall. I mean really how hard could a 400-yard swim, 8.5-mile bike ride, and 2.9-mile run be? I could dog-paddle the swim and walk the last two miles and still finish, right? The bike part would be ... easy. 

So the weekend my daughter was off on another adventure (climbing Mt. Whitney --the highest point in the US-- with her friends, including my trainer) I decided to take her bike for a little test drive. Never mind that I was wearing flip flops and shorts, and haven't been on a bike in something like 30 (well maybe 40) years. I remember riding my own bike all those years ago, even without hands. I was sure I could do this, even though that childhood bike was a 20" girls style (no bar) Schwinn. It might have even had a basket, but that image isn't (thankfully) really clear. 

After the first attempt to mount the bike, I was sure the seat was too high, so my husband adjusted it to the the lowest position. I wanted to be as low to the ground as possible. Our house is elevated with a slopping driveway, and I was at least smart enough to realize it wouldn't be a good idea to start from the top. I had a sensation of speeding out of control down the ramp, straight into the street, where I'd promptly be hit by a car. I walked the bike down to the street (so far so good) and right in front of our house, slowly climbed atop. My husband, standing next to me, made sure I had my flip-flopped-clad feet squarely on the pedals before letting go. With my right foot, I pushed down on the pedal. Oh crap. The wheel turned suddenly to the left and before I could make a complete motion with my left foot, I was on the ground! What seemed like about five minutes in slow motion, actually happened in less than five seconds. As I slowly got up my husband suggested we try this again .... after dark, where no one would see me fall! Which would have been hilarious had I not actually been hurt. My injuries were as follows: cut and bleeding toe; cut and bleeding heel; strained ankle; bruised and swollen knee (both inside and out); sore hip, wrist, elbow and low back. Now, you're probably asking how on earth could I have gotten so hurt by basically sitting up and falling straight over? Honestly, I have no idea, but it is frustrating. Days of working out to get me to this point and I undo everything in a split second! 

As my daughter has just finished her 18-hour mountain hike, I texted her to share my biking experience (after reassuring her it was her old bike, not her new race bike.) She felt badly I got hurt, but she was thrilled I actually got on the bike. Not so thrilled about the flip flops.  I tell her I'm done being a TRYAthlete, as there's no way I'll be ready for the mini-mini-mini sprint in the next three months, but she has tons of confidence I can do it. 

Think they'll notice the training wheels?