Splish, Splash, Crash

New chapter in the work out department: Swimming.

Before venturing on this ambitious endeavor, there is a necessary check list I must complete.

First off, I was not lying about NOT having shaved my legs since last fall, so my most desperate need and first stop is the salon. Heat up that wax baby, because these legs are looking more "chuck" than "chic". A few hundred rips and squeals later, I leave with silky smooth legs. Wow, I think I might even be getting more speed since there's less wind resistance.

No, those are not my legs.

Good. That's done. Now, on to an equally painful next stop: bathing suit shopping. Ugh. Enter dark cloud circling above my head. I don't know if I have a favorite phrase but, "Could you direct me to the plus size bathing suit department" is certainly not in the running. There they are. Miles of stretchy Lycra fabric disguised with deceiving words such as "fashionable", "slimming" and "supportive". No honey, that strap is 2 centimeters thick and will be working over time. Why yes, I'd love to clad my frame in a GIANT palm print or better yet, blue and yellow geometric squares. Of course there's the skirted suits, I don't even wear that much fabric in the winter. Frills, flaps and straps. Who designs these aquatic abominations?

After painful deliberation, I decide on a less horrible black and zebra print. It'll work, it's gotta work. I haven't worked out in over 2 weeks and surprisingly enough, I really miss it. This is happening today.

I pull up to the good ol' YMCA which coincidentally, reminds me of being on the mission field overseas. Multi-cultural, strange smells, hand written signs and you don't want to walk around barefoot. In fact, I believe the squatter toilets in India are more kosher. I squeeze myself into a tiny changing room and pull the curtain closed - correction, it doesn't actually close all the way. So now I am faced with the challenge of shimmying into my new suit whilst gripping the curtain panels together. I really don't know why I am trying to be modest. I know this is a family establishment and all, but there is crack everywhere. Little old Italian ladies and their powder, I shant continue. I get the job done, I'm already sweating, great - mission accomplished.

FYI, this locker room is a labyrinth of sights I don't want to see, but I finally make it to my destination. Ahhhh.....the pool. Refreshing, clean (here's hoping), bright and 600,000 gallons of enough chlorine to sanitize the entire NYC subway system. I feel like the new kid at school under the scrutiny of the brace-faced lifeguard, so I sheepishly shuffle in and put my things in the alloted spot. I can almost hear my thighs rubbing together in this echoing room. There are certain moments in life when you just have to throw caution to the wind, brave up and as Nike says "just do it", for me, one of those moments is dropping the towel. It's so nice and safe and hidden in there, but unfortunately, it's against the rules to wear it in the pool. I quickly drop it and jump in. I feel liberated, I feel free, I feel......HUGE.

The buoyancy is making things shift, so much for "supportive".

With each stride, I feel myself sinking lower and lower towards the bottom of the pool. This is harder than I thought. To my left, Mr. Speedy Speedo is doing his thing. Rippling muscles, goggles and Michael Phelps know how. Over to my right, is a less intimidating co-splasher. Grey with a gut. Okay, so I figure I'm somewhere in between the two. Whatever, I am here and I am gonna do this! There's nothing to be ashamed of. Who would make fun of a girl trying to get in shape? I realize, its all in my head and that no one is even paying attention to me. Am I really this self-conscious? Must be the copious amounts of chemicals I've just inhaled.

After a few laps, I am feeling stronger and stronger. Nothing is gonna hold me back. I don't care who sees me or what they think. This is MY journey and they aren't on it. Who knows? Maybe they're hoping I don't notice their obscene back hair. Everyone has their hang ups and insecurities and while I have my own demons to battle, I start feeling good. I won't be defeated. I look up at the clock and 40 minutes had passed. My heart is beating hard. WOW. I did it! I beat my fears, I pushed myself, I trusted in His strength. He came through, He always does. Can't wait for tomorrow.

Time for some electrolytes!!!