Copacabana

Smart = Recognition of limitations

I've been swimming since I was about 4. Competitvely for about 10 years in my youth. I even placed regionally in fly (13th, but who's counting?). Water is almost as natural an element to me as air.

But once, when I was about 6 or 7, I jumped off my grandfather's fishing boat while it was anchored about a 1/4 mile off shore in the Potomac River. My sister Laura and cousin Mary Maragaret, who were three years older, were being particularly dismissive of me and they had decided to swim to shore. So, by God, would I.

It is the one and only time I can remember a near panic in the water. About halfway in I became very tired and could feel myself losing strength (probably owing to the choppy water) and I'll be damned if I didn't really believe I might die in that murky water that day. Somehow I made it (most likely on adrenaline overload due to the panic because I don't remember the rest of the swim). The next thing I do remember is dragging my tired ass onto my Aunt Dorothy's dock (two houses down the river) and turning back to look at my relieved father on the boat who's body language suggested something like this: "You're an idiot...but nice swim."

Now I've said all that to say this: This kid rocks.

posted by Lola @ 10:19 AM