1. So far, ordering cool goggles on Amazon has been the best part.
2. It's harder than it looks. Now I kinda wanna drown the peaceful swimmers. Just hold em' under for a couple of minutes. Is that wrong?
3. I'm getting schooled. HOW is it possible that I can hold 50 conversations during a marathon no problem yet I cannot swim 50 meters in a pool without stopping to pant? I don't get it.
4. I move that my parents be brought up on some sort of charges for not enrolling me in a swim camp when I was young. Due to lack of foresight I'm now blowing bubbles in the shallow end with five year-olds... thanks mom & dad.
5. If you want to learn to swim at this age, you must enroll your loving girlfriends to teach you. No "coach" out there would stand for my whining and increasingly frequent f-bombs while in the water. Rachel Corbin is a patient angel and should probably be considered for sainthood after this.
On the flipside (no swim-related-pun-intended)
1. Rachel gave me a drill that shed some light toward the end of the tunnel. Swim slowly and breath on each stroke. This has calmed me down and let me get long in the water without exhausting myself. It also ensures that I will learn to breathe on both sides. Genius.
2. I've realized that I'm using my legs way too much. I've been reading articles about all the ways that runners make a mess out of learning to swim. Offense #1 is thinking that we can run our way through the learning process. "My legs can do anything! I'm a runner!" My friend Dawn is threatening to tie my feet together if I don't stop with all the kicking. The threat is enough...
3. Swimming rocks my core! One step closer to the whole "ab" resolution.
4. Learning to swim on Barbados provides for some beautiful mornings spent with girlfriends of "like mind". A little group is starting to emerge on Saturday mornings down at the club. Using my stand-up paddle board as a platform to watch each other swim has been a bonus! Here's a picture of our "pool"... nice, right?
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