No more green hair.

So I figure with all the good things I've given up, I had better give up something I don't love to keep the balance. I am a libra, after all. And I think that has something to do with scales and balance, though I'm too weak from lack of sugar to google it.

I canceled the pool membership tonight. We have officially broken up. My list of excuses: I don't think flip-turns and pushing off a wall agree with me, I can no longer take the kids to swim team because because I'm at work and hub is at school (probably busy being that annoying old guy in the front row - remember how the old people always sat up front and asked tons of questions in college?) and mostly because it really doesn't fit in the new and unimproved budget. The ocean is free.

There was a notice requirement I missed.. so my official last day of pool membership? October 11th. Kona Day, for the portion of you readers that aren't triathletes (and thus are family members. Hi, Mom.) How appropriate. What do I need a pool for after Kona?

So as not to sound like an ungrateful pool-hater, I am going to list ten things I will miss about the pool. I'm pretty sure there aren't that many, but here goes:

• Joe Likeikis, masters swim coach extraordinaire. His enthusiasm is contagious.
  
• Racing Brad. Even though he's about 6'10" & his feet are giant flippers so he's pretty much cheating at all times.
  
• Sitting with Paul while watching our kids at swim team. He has more Hollywood gossip than People Magazine, and he is not afraid to dish.
  
• The expert advice of the brothers Flanagan.
  
• The hot tub.
  
• Yeah, that's all I've got. Ten was a lofty goal.
  

This is Katherine and me at the finish line of the North Shore Challenge - who needs a stinkin' pool?

The Waikiki Roughwater Swim is this weekend, so I will be racing the 2.4 miles that inspired the swim portion of the Ironman back in 1978 with 1800 of my closest friends. They put me in the A wave for the first time ever and I am a wee bit wary that I'll be swimming solo out there until the B wave (my kind of people) catches me. If I get dropped I'm going to float on my back and open clif bars like a harbor seal with abalone until someone rescues me, because hey, I get sugar during the workouts. Four days of healthy eating down and I'm starting to adjust. And actually feel pretty durn good. But if I sink at the Roughwater, embalm me with peanut butter M&Ms, please.