They say you can never go Home...

Soldiers of Sparta were allowed to return home after lost battles, only if carried dead upon their shields. I'm convinced this is a more practical and time-saving way to go about it.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

I swim to help me maintain a feeling of normalcy, which tends to otherwise dissipate in the absence of exercise.

Some people take psychoactive drugs for this. Been there, done that, had the vertigo and the cottonmouth. I'll stick to swimming and the attendant dry skin and losing of weight, so that I can engage in my other coping device, which is Eating.

Although the weather is truly gorgeous in Florida right now, it does get chilly when the sun goes down. And one does not relish jumping into a pool, albeit heated, when on a cold wet pool deck in little else than nylon briefs manufactured by Speedo.

My procedure for getting in the pool at this time of year proceeds in the following manner: I stand on the ledge of the pool, contemplating entry and give myself an extensive pep talk. Then, I ease myself in, one appendage at a time, and when I get to the waist, I pause slightly for things to right themselves again, bite the bullet and submerge, and finally push off the wall to begin the workout.

One of these little stinkers, who swims on the youth Swim Team before our Masters Team begins, snuck up behind me and pushes me in at the step where I am in deep meditation about actually getting into the water.

I hit the water like a baby elephant. She (the stinkerette) laughs. I fake mock outrage (how can you be mad at these little guys?) and immediately begin to swim to get warm.

I proceed to shave off so much time on my swimming that I am now considering running straight out of the Men’s Locker room and doing a cannonball into my lane.

It’s interesting how the unexpected “pushes” in Life get one moving not only sooner, but a little faster.