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the feel of the water, this is fine

I bought a pair of swim paddles online and when they came in I was super stoked to try them in the pool.  I imagined tearing through the water and creating a wake behind me. I figured I’d be tired and sore afterwards, but it would be worth it to master the water.

But, they didn’t work.  

If I had them tightened enough so they weren’t loose on my hands, the bands dug into my fingers painfully.  Too loose, and they would slap back against my hand with each stroke.

And instead of pulling me through the water, each stroke was a fight.  I would get the barest increase in power every so often, but I was mostly flailing about as I made my way down the lane.

I tried a couple laps, but was so uncomfortable with the paddles that I gave up on them and left then on the side of the pool for the rest of my swim.

They had promised to retain a feel for the water with their design, but instead I realized that I could really feel the water without them.  And had been all along without realizing what that meant.

It’s kind of a strange sensation  – to get a grip on a liquid and use it to pull forward like climbing the rung of a horizontal ladder.  And then finding that sweet spot where all the effort slides away and I slip between the molecules of the water like I was born to it.

I’ll keep after the paddles and eventually learn how to use them, but in the meantime, I can feel the water.  And I’ve mastered it as much as I’m able.

——————

Jim and I went out to dinner with a couple of our friends last evening.  We had brick oven pizza in a tiny, tiny restaurant and enjoyed an easy and fun conversation.

After dinner, we headed to a bar called the Hopping Frog to see a band called Shooter Sharp and the Sharpshooters – who played an old-school version of country music.  

Now, I was clearly out of my element.  I don’t drink, I’m not a fan of crowds, and well… I’m not a fan of country music.  There are a few artists that have a very few songs that have a sort of pop/country sound that I like, but this did not fit into that very narrow window.

The performers were all very technically talented and seemed to be really enjoying themselves.  But the acoustics weren’t great and I couldn’t make out what they were singing most of the time – though I did catch the title of one song was “You finally said something good when you said goodbye”

So, yeah.

I sipped my ginger ale and settled in – insisting that I was fine to my friends.  And I was.  The music wasn’t my cup of tea, but I was fine with that.   The company was excellent and the contents of my head are usually more interesting that reality anyway.

I counted the number of acoustic tiles on the walls of the bar (21), planned an escape in case there was a riot (I always do this when I go someplace new.  a). Only one exit visible, but we were seated near it.  b). Improvised weapons – broken bottle of ginger ale or mic stand/signpost.), and tried to visualize a 4 dimensional object (I couldn’t).

And I had fun.  Of sorts.  Though I apparently had some odd expressions on my face at times.  When the band took a break I joking said aloud, “Computer: End Program” in case it was a simulation.

It wasn’t.

I’m not likely to make that venue a regular occurrence for me and I didn’t buy the Shooter Sharp and the Sharpshooters CD – though that was an option – but I was fine.  

Really.  🙂

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