I freaked out last night while rubbing under my arm because I was so sore from yesterday’s swimming class. There was a lump- a big one. Possible causes raced through my mind, and I’ll admit that I briefly thought “Well, this is it.” And then I felt under my other arm.
You know how you can tell you’ve been out of shape for your entire life? When you’ve only been swimming for 5 weeks and the appearance of a muscle makes you think you have breast cancer.
So, yeah. I’m getting fit. I’m losing weight and noticeably toning. I’m getting a lot more confident in the water, and I no longer drink half the pool each practice. I swam 3 times last week and I’ll likely swim 4 times this week. And I love it. Love, love, love.
One of my major sources of apprehension was about John having to take the kids for me to swim, but we found a great way around that. Now I swim at 2pm while Cole is still in school, and I take Rowan to the gym and put her in the nice drop-in daycare for an hour and a half. She has a great time with the kids and toys there, it gets her used to being in someone else’s care, and I swim entirely guilt-free without having to take John away from work or get up at 5am.
I’m still one of the slower swimmers, but my coach thinks that will change pretty quickly. I don’t mind. My fastest and most favorite stroke is the breaststroke, and doing that I can blast past the other ladies in my lane. My backstroke is pretty strong, too. My freestyle is still kind of weak, but getting better every day, and my butterfly is non-existent. That will take some time. That’s okay.
The best part is that I really look forward to swimming, even though it’s the most difficult workout I’ve ever done. I think I may have found something I can do for the rest of my life, and that’s something I feel really good about.