The Nut Hut

My wife occassionally talks about wanting to open a bar and grill type establishment to balance places like Hooters and Coyote Ugly. The target market would be female, and it would be called The Nut Hut. It takes little imagination to get a visual of the wait staff, and I questioned the feasibility of such a restaurant. It is, however, her dream, so I leave well enough alone.

Early in my triathlon journey, I was encouraged to use Total Immersion Swimming as a starting point for learning to actually swim. In the first few pages of that book, the author tells the reader to go out and purchase a Speedo type swimsuit. When I read that, my first thoughts were of The Nut Hut, and my immediate response was, "Not gonna happen. Ever." True to my statement, my swim attire has always been tri shorts. Specifically, four pair of tri shorts.

I buy them two at a time, and alternate suits with each swim. Regardless, chlorine is brutal on the fabric. And the areas most susceptible to wear are the areas that will lead to the most embarrassment if failure does occur. Rather than walk around with a hut that reveals more nut than is socially acceptable, I replace my tri shorts more frequently than I might like. At $30-40 a pop, it gets expensive.

Yesterday, I gave in to the (financial) pressure and went to the dark side. I am now proud (?) owner of a bikini style swimsuit. I will, however, conserve some small shred of my dignity by using a pair of nylon drag shorts. It's frightening how I jumped through so many hoops (too long a story) to get the swim trunks I swore I'd never wear just 12 short months ago.

But I was able to stick to my guns in one regard. I didn't buy a Speedo. I bought a Tyr. Either way, it's a nut hut.