Diary of a Non-Swimmer

Brent and I acquired pool passes for a 25 yard pool.
Brent my loving husband is an awesome swimmer  In fact I met him at a swim meet when we were  teenagers.  He was there to swim, I was there to watch.  He won everything all summer and I watched.

Over the years we have gained a few pounds and he suggested we swim to loose it.  I suggested we go to Dairy Queen and talk about it over a Chocolate Extreme Blizzard.

11am.  Wearing a too tight swimsuit and cheap goggles I stand pool side watching men and women swim back and forth,waiting for the love of my life to exit the men's dressing room.  I see him swagger out of the locker room, cross the pool deck to stand by me.  We claim a lane and I jump into the water. He squats down next to me and instructs me to 'swim that way, turn around and swim back.'

Growing up my family owned a lake house where we spent many summer days playing in the water.  I can water ski, do a 1 1/2 off the top of a dock, I can swim just not with real strokes.  I left that to my best friends Sheila and Brent.  I left the technical strokes, the early morning practices, and competitions to them.  I would watch and then try to  mimic them when they weren't around.  I have an awesome butterfly, with flippers on.

So 11am again.  Brent is going to figure out I don't really know what I'm doing.  I start my lap underwater. He can't see me underwater, hee hee.  I take a few strokes turn my head, breathe. A few more  strokes, breath.  I keep waiting for him to catch me,  pass me, any second now.  Nothing.  The wall shows up.  I try a flip turn, seen Brent do hundreds of these, how hard could they be?  Turn kick my legs behind me.  Nothing but water.  Crap.  Kick, kick, kick.  Surface BREATHE wonderful, cool air.   
Stroke, breath, stroke stroke breath. wall again.  Brent is still standing poolside. 50 yards, yeah me!  I look at Brent smiling. 'Hey did you see that I survived my first lap'  He points to the other end of the pool and shoos me off.

Back under water, swim, swim, swim.  Wall again.  Closer this time, turn toes on wall, small thrill, followed by small push.  Where is the air?  Not a fan of drowning.  Swim, swim, breath, stroke breath, oh ya kick, knew I was forgetting something.  Here comes the wall and there is Brent still standing out of the pool.  I see where this is going now I swim and he watches.  I don't know how he is going to lose weight watching me?
"Hey how do you know you're close enough to the wall?" I ask. 
"Count your strokes." 
Why didn't I think of that?  He finally enters the water and is off.  He looks like he is loafing but his wake reveals his speed.  For a moment I am 13 again.  Bam he's at the wall and back in no time,  No breath, turns and is off again.  I hate him.

OK count strokes. One, two, oh wait breathe.  Do I count the breath stroke?  OK wait five, six, crap forgot to kick.  OH breathe is that ten or twelve?  Sneak a peek a the wall and am drowned by Brent's wake.  Sputter, cough, smile, wave off the lifeguard.  Breathe, all this and count too?  Right?!  150 yards down. Can I rest?

500 yards later I decide I am a HUGE fan of AIR. 800 yards later I have decided there needs to be a law that all pools should come with oxygen tanks.

I am spent.  800 yards 45 min.  Did I mention it was 33degrees outside?  Can we go for that Blizzard now?