I swim once or twice a week during my lunch break. I originally drafted that sentence with “I am incredibly lucky to,” but then honestly, I’ve been swimming for years now and that initial euphoria wears off (as it should. What am I, a toddler?) I swim because I can’t run (arthritic needs) and I need something to make me work like a fiend. I will say at the very beginning, swimming was a euphoric experience. It reminded me of being a kid and playing, so I came to the pool with a giant idiotic grin. I can only do front crawl. I can’t do that fancy thing of somersaulting off the wall so I don’t have to stop at each end to turn the caboose around. (I have practiced and nine times out of 10, face the wrong way). When I first got back into swimming, I went every day and began to have shoulder pain and learned the rotisserie chicken technique! (When you front crawl, you are supposed to twirl slightly with every flap…or whatever people call that arm movement thingie.) And although that initial wonder has long since faded, I still appreciate it. I often come in quite grumpy and leave in better spirits. The lifeguards at my pool are all these young sweet men who know my name. I am among the regulars so we say hi to each other. (I have a soft spot for the seniors.) I still enjoy doing laps and looking at the other bodies under water and looking at what life is like underwater. There are people who are in fantastic shape, some are old, some are more in the middle. Most people have boring swim suits but some wear like full scuba gears and skirts (women only. One seems to be some kind of traditional Jewish and covers her entire body, another seems self-conscious.)I have terrible eye sight so my vision is limited even with goggles, but the other day, I was looking at the lane next to me, because I was like, wait, does that man have no feet? I kept looking to be sure lap after lap, and sure enough, yup, the dude had NO FEET AND HE STILL MADE IT TO THE GYM! In that moment, I was like, Tina, you truly can’t complain about squat. You can still walk and you have your health, so shut up. NO FEET. That’s all. NO FEET. That’s all I’m going to say to myself when I’m in a down moment. I’m still amazed. Life is so wild.