I’ve been dreaming of swim meets for months. In the beginning I knew I was out of shape, but I was going to try my hardest. Funny thing is, I never made it to the pool. I couldn’t find my races, I couldn’t even see the starting blocks. Dream after dream I would end up in mazes, lost in the hallways of some giant indoor natatorium. I would lose my friends, former Wheaton teammates, and disappoint the coach, etc. I kept trying to make it to my races on time. I never did.
Until last night. For the first time I found the heat sheet. Although I was not swimming my “normal” race strokes, I managed to make it to the blocks for my co-ed race with a bunch of sorry-looking swimmers. The starting official even held the race so I could find and put on my cap and goggles. And then I was up on the blocks, straining for the start. I made it into the water, and started swimming some kind of flailing freestyle.
And my flailing woke me up, as I kept swatting my right arm across my body and against the bed, apparently trying to get a better body position in the water.
Hooray, I’m getting closer!


Not too shy to cross both poles in a field dominated by men.












