hitting the lanes.

Morning, chickadees.

And thanks for waiting yesterday out with me.

It was just what I needed.

I took the day off, to generally get my life in order after so many moons away from my routine.

Also, so I could catch up on my DVR.

It was an all around success.


This morning, I got up early, gathered up my gear, and headed to the gym.

For a swim.

Which I haven’t done in months and months.

I figured a little low impact cardio is a good way to get back into the game.

I’m real far out of the game, in case you were wondering.

After struggling into my suit (it wasn’t pretty, chicks), I hit the pool and started swimming slow laps, aiming for a mile.

It was then, chicks, that I realized that some things just never change.

As I maneuvered into a turn at the end of the lane, I noticed something out of the corner of my eyes.

It was the infamous “I-use-hand-flippers-wear-nude-swim-shorts-and-also-hang-around-on-the-deep-end-of-the-pool-like-a-creep” guy.

He was floating around the bottom of the pool, looking up in my direction.

In his defense, he appears to have lost the nude shorts.

But still.

I breathed a sigh of relief, when after a half hour, he finally hauled himself and all his apparatuses out of the water.

A nice, calm pregnant woman hopped in next to me.

And proceeded to lap me.

I’ve got some work to do, chickens.

For now, I try to remember the way to work and what it’s like to sit still for eight hours.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.

1 Comment

Filed under Chicago, Did I really do that?, Reflections

One response to “hitting the lanes.

  1. Is it weird I saw this post and thought, “huh. Nikki must have gone bowling on southport!”

    Obviously I’m not a swimmer.

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