As if suffering through another morning of bootlegged Tracy Anderson videos on YouTube wasn't enough working out for one day, I had to fulfill a promise.
I made a deal with swimmer Kyle that if I lost enough hair during this treatment, I would finally get into the pool with him. He has, after all, bought running shoes and joined me at a Spin class. It's the least I can do to jump in the pool with him and do more than my usual piddling around with deep water jogging while keeping that overpriced dye job safely out of the reach of chlorine.
Remember that dye job? The one that ended up as scraps in the sink a few months back? Yeah, me neither.
There have been a few salt water pools in my past, but my hair has mainly stayed up and out of harms way for the last decade. With my virginous sprouts reaching an inch long and completely untouched by a stylist's hands, I'm giving it every reason in the world to get wet.
I'm still battling my peeling feet and hands (referred to as hand-foot syndrome in those hip circles I hang out in), so I know a nice little water workout will leave them looking like I contracted some public pool disease I'll happily share in the showers. At least I can spend the ride home peeling and picking at them in the passenger seat of the Prius.
I took a leap of faith and bought a real swimsuit as to look the part. Add my matching swim cap and some pink goggles and people will at least think I know how to swim; until they actually see me swim. It's not that I can't swim, it's just that I lack the proper technique. I even took swimming in college for a PE credit, but the sadistic teacher stood at the side of the pool channeling Esther Williams and threatening to fail me over my breast stroke kick.
I have faith that if I don't make the Olympic swim team, I can potentially survive a sprint triathlon next year. That is, until someone kicks me in the head, tries to swim over me during the first stage or I decide the water is too cold and I quit. But first, I need to get from one end of the pool to the other without looking like a dying seal.
I'm swimming because I CAN.