swim it to win it.

Several wins from last night, chickadees:

I wriggled into my “serious swimming” bathing suit. I bought it forever ago, and it’s never had the proper amount of give, which I sort of forget up until it’s time to get into it.

Getting into it without falling on the ground/breaking one of my arthritic limbs was already a success.

Next up, VB, CJ and I trekked over to the beach, where it was time to see if we could still handle the lake.

It also meant wetsuit time.

I have said it before, and because I am a strange girl, I will probably say it again, but you guys, there is nothing graceful about getting into a wetsuit.

In public.

In a group of three.

However, we managed to get set with all our gear, and walked into the water, pointing out every piece of refuse (read: trash) we saw on our way out.

The lake on a Monday still has some weekend cleanup to be done, chickens.

I pulled on a new swim cap, which I might have bought in the wrong size (is that cone head size, someone chuckled), stuck my head under the water, and headed off for a half mile.

Which we all finished.

Without drowning.

After getting sand all over my wetsuit, walking around downtown with wet clothes on, and slinging my suit to dry over the edge of my deck, I was exhausted.

But chickens, we can still swim it, and that’s a pretty good feeling.

Next stop: a swimsuit that’s not a death trap.

There’s always something, chickadees.

Enjoy this sunshine if you’ve got it.

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