Let me share with you a fantastic idea.  Get yourself comfortable.  Find your groove. Rarely meet new people.  Get to a place where you almost never have that awkward “first day of school” feeling.  The next step is important.  Eat everything, everything in sight for about a month. And then…. sign up for something.  Make sure it is something that makes you a little bit nervous.  And make sure you have to take off all of your clothes as soon as you arrive.  And put on a swim cap.  Perfect.

How comfortable do you feel now? That’s how I was feeling on Monday morning.  Masters Swimming.  Day 1. Masters (if you are not familiar) is code for old people, club sport, not to be confused with the US Masters Golf Tournament. Masters Swimming is a come as you are and let’s get in the pool, competitive swim team for people over 25. All lumped together, we are the retired runner with blown out knees that has never run a day in his or her life, the former collegiate swimmer,  the triathletes that hate the swim.  And the 39-year-old former swim teacher that thinks she is a decent swimmer but has cripplingly low self-esteem and is afraid of finding out that she doesn’t actually know a damn thing about swimming.  Wait.  That was me.

So.  I was feeling like I might pee my pants.  And I didn’t have on pants.

And a beautiful thing happened.  A friendly face!  She said “Hello!” and we chatted for a second and she said, “I read a blog post of yours. I think someone forwarded it to me and said “You gotta read this, it’s hilarious.”

She didn’t pet me on the head and say “You’re so pretttyyyy…” and to be quite honest I can not understand how she failed to see what a raving beauty I am.  But I will take it. Hilarious.

swim cap

So I jumped in the pool.  And I asked questions when I didn’t understand.  And I admitted what I do not know.  And I learned something. I swam a long ass way and I felt great.

I am apparently still six years old underneath my swim cap and my forehead wrinkles.  When the coach noted that we had the same watch I took it as a sign.  He thinks I am a stellar student, obviously.  I resisted yelling out “YES!  It is a VivoActive!  Same same!!  Twins!!”

So, that’s what’s up over here.  Swim swim swim.



9 responses to “Hilarious

  1. Your blog is hilarious. Keep those posts coming. Peace, John

  2. If you don’t write a book one day I will put you on restriction and take away your screens, coffee and white wine for a month. What a gift.

  3. This was a hilarious read! (nods in agreement with non-petting-head nice lady) Raving beauty with some sort of unidentifiable complex????

    Bwahahaha! Thank you Kelly! :D ;)

  4. Former swim teacher? Wowzers. I am not a swimmer, and even though I swim in the semi-fast lane with triathletes (whose strengths are biking and running), I still get nervous almost every practice. The water is cold, will I keep up?, is my technique okay?, will I panic and not be able to breathe? I find that remembering I am doing this for *me* is a good distraction — as everyone is there for themselves (not much talking underwater). When the alpha of the group suggests I go ahead as my pace is faster today, I think that this is a part that shows my progress!

    • Swim teacher = plays with small children in the pool and convinces them to blow bubbles and let go of their mothers. :) It is a lovely thing that there is almost zero chatter. You show up, you swim, you’re out!

  5. Perfect. I’m in. <3 how you inspire others to "put it all out there". Thanks for paving the way…and being beautiful ;) ( mostly on the inside…lol. of COURSE I'm kidding.)

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