My wonderful Aunt and Uncle lent us their beach house for the weekend, and we decided to invite my cousin and her husband (who got J the interview for the new job he just got!) and my parents.
Now, let me remind you that I am a pale Irish lass and am not terribly fond of the sun (it gives you things like cancer and whatnot…), so J and I only planned one beach day, and weren’t even sure we were going to wear our suits. Still, the waves were rough and heavy just like I love them, and the dolphins were everywhere showing off with their flips and turns, so after making a rather expensive run to Sunsations, we decided to go play in the ocean.
Facts you need to know about me: I am an extremely strong swimmer. I swam in the same division as Michael Phelps as a kid (even if he was/is the biggest douchebag alive) and I even swam club team in college until the pool closed on campus. I was a lifeguard, for goodness sakes!
So, when I saw the need to dive under a particularly menacing wave, I instinctually threw my hands up and sprang forward… but my body didn’t work the way it was supposed to. I couldn’t propel myself with my arms because I had lost all strength and my pectoral muscles were screaming as I tried to tread water. Eventually, I was able to stand up, but a current that normally wouldn’t concern me felt like it was dragging me back to that swirly darkness, so I zig-zagged out of the water as quickly as I could, and, panting, told my family there would be no ocean for me anymore.
I couldn’t believe it: first the tits, then the running and now my ability to swim?! To flip in and out of the waves like a high-powered mermaid? My ability to swim is probably the athletic talent I’m most proud of, so I am particularly sad that my body is unable to do it at this time. Still, we have to hope for the best, right?