drowning schnauzers
2002-07-10

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I didn't drown.

Although it does feel like it somewhat.

In 1992, my average time for 100m of head-up front crawl, including 15 metres with a lead weight lifted above my shoulders, was fifty one seconds.

In 2002, I made about 40m before my arms refused to lift and I breast-stroked (stroked breasts?) the last few miles (metres) to flip and start back again.

There is a large drowned rat doing backstroke in my nasal passage.

Time has tolled. It'll take some doing to untoll it.

But only some.

My technique is still there, and a lot of the strength, although a lap of butterflies is a distant speck on the horizon.

Did I mention the drowned rat? It's getting restless.

If anyone ever tells you that a kilometre of stroking breasts isn't cardio, offer to watch them do it.

I was so zoned on the way home that I barely noticed the blonde at the other end of the car hide her tears with her hair at the ceaseless ragging from today's local bastards.

It wasn't me this time. Apparently the drowned schnauzer look is a safe one for me.

The red drughead eyes might have helped.

Onceuponatime our lifeguarding instructor ordered us to do 2km every day, without goggles.

"You won't have time to put them on when you see someone drowning".

So in I leapt sans goggles today.

Ouch. The chlorine levels in a fifty metre pool with several hundred swimmers, are a lot higher than the private ones we trained in.

This might explain the rather unpleasant demeanor of the rat.

It does not, however, explain why I couldn't even make 1500m. Of breast stroke.

Nor does it explain why my muscles ache already, rather than two days from now.

Although, I have to admit, that I might be permanently off illicit drugs.

This morning, I found a way to get a headrush from doing my scales extra hard

and tonight, I was so out of my head from pushing so hard that I done did climb to the sixth floor of my building before realizing that "hey, my door doesn't have a black border".

I live on the third floor. My legs should have noticed. They appear to be currently offline, however.

I'm going to go drag myself across the carpet to bed now.

Tonight, I might just sleep.

Tomorrow, or Thursday, we've pledged to hurt ourselves more.

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Last few Rants:

I guess this is goodbye. - 11:57 a.m. , 2005-02-10
Endorphins, stress, and magickal mystery - 5:07 p.m. , 2005-02-02
stress, incoming - 4:42 p.m. , 2005-01-28
heaving great happy sighs - 3:05 p.m. , 2005-01-24
Imposter syndrome strikes again - 1:20 p.m. , 2005-01-19