Inspired by this thread.
I used to swim. I used to swim a lot in College, I would have gone out for the swim team, but I can’t do a flip kick to save my life. Coach Sonner used to try to talk me into trying out, until he saw my “flip kick”. Heck, my summer job was as a life guard. The long and shot of it is that I’m a swimmer.
Or was.
Anyway, I graduated, started sitting behind a desk, and got out of shape. A couple of years ago, after my wife and I married, and I moved into her house, I decided to visit the neighborhood pool. “Maus,” I said to myself, “you’re out of shape. You can’t even lift and carry fifty pounds. You get winded going up four flights of stairs after your smoke break at work.” The fact I was smoking a pack a day had nothing to do with it.
I was going to start swimming again. That would get me back into shape. So I when I got home from work, I changed clothes and walked up the street to the pool. At the pool, ther was a lap lane free. It was calling my name. I streched, dove in, and started swimming the american crawl.
“one-two-three-breath”
“one-two-three-breath”
“This isn’t so bad,” I thought to myself.
25 yards - “one-two-three-breath. one-two-three-breath”
50 yards - “one-two-three-breath. Boy, I forgot how much work this was starting up agian.”
75 yards - “one-two-breath” I’m starting to get winded.
100 yards - “One-breath. One-breath” “Okay, I’m getting really tired. Maybe I should switch to the backstroke, so I can catch my breath.”
125 yards - Back stroke. “Much better, I can breath again.”
That’s when I nothiced the life guard was watching me very closely. And then I noticed Him. There was this tall, thin guy dressed in a black robe carrying a scythe standing next to the life guard chair. He seemed to be encouraging me to swim another length.
I didn’t.
I also had a hard time gettin out of the pool. It seemed that someone had replaced my regular arms with jello when I wasn’t looking. Eventually, I made it out and back up the street to my house.
I’ve been sticking to walking the golf course since then.
I’m a wimp. I know. I shoulda stuck it out, but that guy in black scared me. Last time I saw him, he seemed disappointed that I quit smoking, too.
