You've probably never thought about me as an athlete. True, gravity and I are pretty close friends (and you thought my choice of cowboy boots over heels was aesthetic!), and I never played sports in high school. But confession: I was a competitive swimmer for years.
This morning I returned to my roots for a quick little 1k swim. There are only two lanes at my local pool: the "slow lane" and the "fast lane." The slow lane should be renamed the "floating around aimlessly lane," and the "fast lane" should require an audition. Anyway, I inadvertently made everyone flailing around in the fast lane feel bad about themselves, as they got lapped repeatedly by a woman in her eight month of pregnancy. And I wasn't even trying, folks! Half the time I was just on the kickboard trying to get this little fetus to move into the right position.
In light of my extreme success despite lack of effort, I am now considering offering my services to the Olympic Swim Team (country to be determined, or whatever, I'm for sale!). Surely some country is down a swimmer, right? And don't worry about my condition. It turns out there have been quite a few pregnant Olympic athletes, including a 2012 competitor from Malaysia who is also eight months along. Sure, she's a shooter, but that seems more dangerous than a few laps in a pool. I got this.
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| Circa 1982. |
In light of my extreme success despite lack of effort, I am now considering offering my services to the Olympic Swim Team (country to be determined, or whatever, I'm for sale!). Surely some country is down a swimmer, right? And don't worry about my condition. It turns out there have been quite a few pregnant Olympic athletes, including a 2012 competitor from Malaysia who is also eight months along. Sure, she's a shooter, but that seems more dangerous than a few laps in a pool. I got this.
Like this blog? Follow The Red Accordion Diaries on Bloglovin'. Or maybe just add the RSS feed to your Yahoo, Google, or Whatever homepage, so you don't have to keep clicking over from Facebook links.
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