Washed Out

Washed Out

Years ago, I swam all the time. It started in high school, when we had to swim the mile for early bird gym class, continued in college when I had full access to multiple Olympic-sized pools at Pitt, and then started up again after grad school as I was trying to get back into pre-Paris shape. I’d go every other day and swim for as long as I could stand it. At first, it was only 10 laps, but then I worked my way up to about 150, which amounts to just over two miles. Do you have any idea how long it takes to swim 2 miles? A long freakin time. I became part-fish during those years.

I dusted off my swimsuit today and decided to give it another go. There’s just something so relaxing about being in the water and counting the laps. My memory sucks, so I need to really concentrate on the number of laps the entire time I’m swimming – I just keep repeating the number over and over in my head until that lap’s done, and then I repeat the next one. There’s really no room in my head for thinking of anything else, which is a welcome break from the hamster wheel that is my mind.

Today it was 20 laps, but that was after an hour on the treadmill. Slowly but surely, I’ll probably be making my way back up past 100.

In the meantime, lots of fuzzy socks and pillows are in my future – swimming has the distinct side-effect of both freezing me and exhausting me. Guess who’s gonna be sleeping like a rock tonight! 🙂


About Lindsay

I'm a Burgher who loves trying new foods and activities. I also seem to love getting myself into trouble. Basically, I'm a trainwreck waiting to happen. :)
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