The first time I wore shorts this year I made a horrifying discovery. At some point between last November and now, I acquired knee fat. KNEE FAT! I ask you, good people of central Indiana, how does one even develop cellulite at the knee? And no, it’s not actually on the cap or anything, but right above, meaning everything from the hip area and upper thigh region conspired against me to slide down towards my most needed of all joints. How could this have happened?

Do I gain weight in the chest area? No, of course, not. That would be too convenient. Do I gain it in the stomach, where I could smoosh it all in with control-top undergarments? No again. All of my extra lard settles in the third quartile, so unless I’m committed to Bermudas or Capri’s, the whole world is gonna see it. My pasty, white skin isn’t helping either; it’s like I’ve highlighted all the dimples with a halogen spot.

But I digress. The point of all of this is that I am now highly motivated to seriously get back into to shape. Sure I fooled myself into thinking doing one 30-minute Insanity workout a week could keep this 40-plus old body in top form, but I’ve always known it wasn’t enough. Even the push-ups I’ve added in to meet my New Year’s Resolution of kick-ass arms aren’t doing much. My solution? A triathlon! Not an Ironman or Olympic or even a Sprint, but a 400-meter swim, 12-mile bike, and 5K jog for babies. It’s scheduled for the first weekend in August, giving me about three months to prepare. And now that I’ve announced it to you, my adoring public, I am fully vested.

Admittedly, I am nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I can run and bike and swim, just not all that well and definitely not consecutively for the sixty to ninety minutes it’ll take to survive. I’m also concerned about training. I have a ten-year old mountain bike with sketchy handle bars, no pool, and very little free time. But I’ll figure it out. I cannot go through summer with this extra poundage on my lower thighs, and I want to model healthy living for my kids. Besides, according to a schedule I downloaded from the Internet (where everything is true and trustworthy!), I really only need about two hours a week to fit in each of the three disciplines. A little freestyle here, a little cycling there, eat some carbs, drink some water. How hard can it possibly be?

So goodbye, knee fat! You must find somewhere else to reside. This momma’s wearing shorts come summer. Peace out.