swimming as an metaphor for life? MAYBE.

i started swimming for exercise a few weeks ago, after my poor knees refused to let me keep running and i was not ready to give up exercise completely. i bought a 20-swim pass at the santa monica swim center and have been going several times a week. i've never actually swum before--swimming to move and burn calories and go fast instead of just float around in the pool and play categories. the first time i went, i was totally out of breath after my first fifty meters. i had to take a break after every couple of laps before i could go on.

but it's gotten a lot easier really quickly. i started building up and trying to go longer distances and timing myself so that i could improve my times. every time i go, i set a long-distance goal that i try to hit (400, 600, 800 meters) and try to stay on my normal pace for longer and longer times. really, i started competing with myself and was feeling guilty any time i didn't go farther and faster than i did the day before.

today, i just swam. i didn't count or time or measure or even try to go particularly fast. i just hopped in the pool and lost count of how many times i turned around, how many meters i covered, how many minutes went by. i didn't think about my strokes or try to keep up with my lane buddy when he swam past me. i just kicked and pulled and thought and thought, and i kept going forever. i didn't need to stop until my goggles started boring holes in my skull and i felt like i was giving myself two black eyes.

it's not that trying hard and working to improve my exercise and my swimming times is a bad thing. it's just that sometimes i forget that right now, when i'm six months pregnant, is probably not the best time to train to become an olympian in a brand new sport.

it's okay to let go of my pride and just swim every once in a while.