Highlights from this morning’s swim at the community pool:

  • being charged a *child’s* entry fee (upon learning that I was old enough to be his mother, the lifeguard accepted the extra $1)
  • coaching two impressionable young boys on how to nail the perfect canon ball.
  • slaughtering any and every adult (mostly male) who thought they could out lap me. I’d even give them a half lap head start… Despite only having one properly functioning foot, I won *every time* (I’m not competitive, I just like to win). 
  • spending quality time with my mama
  • and oh yeah, swimming… I was there for swimming.

Conversation at the Therapeutic Pool

Octogenarian #1 (to octogenarian #2): how are you feeling today?

Octogenarian #2: I’m feeling as good as… as… as… a pinecone.


Me: (confused) Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Octogenarian #2: …well… I’m not really sure yet.

True story.

Medically cleared

My neurologist cleared me to start going to the local therapeutic pool. I am now enrolled in the basic arthritis class.

My classmates are twice as old and twice as nimble as I am. And I’m ok with that.