We're Here, We Blurt, Get Used to It

November 4, 2014 6:32 PM

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We're Here, We Blurt, Get Used to It

I am Michael Phelps, so graceful and powerful in the water, but like an overgrown, slobbering toddler learning to walk once I hit dry land. Dropping, spilling, falling, and blurting my way up a steep path that feels all my own. Even while swimming, my thoughts come racing like a rainbow-colored stream too powerful to stop: What does the high school-aged lifeguard think of my flip turns? Does he think it's cool an old person is trying this or do my flying legs look particularly ungainly from where he sits? Does he fall asleep in class after getting up so early? Did I pack my mousse? Crap. I forgot to prep for the conference call at noon.

Then, from the depths I hear the long-lost sound of my friend's mom yelling "PULL" over and over at those freestyling past her, while she bends over the pool, peering down at each one's stroke. Her commands from 35 years ago still make me push the water back with more force, slice through the water ...

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