Wings

Laps up, laps down, the same stretch of water, repetitive, yet not in a bad way. I'm not a strong swimmer, so there was alot to work on, and it was quite enjoyable to focus solely on improving my stroke.  I normally only attempt frog-style since I've never been able to get free-style down, don't have the stamina to even think of doing butterfly, and backstroke don't seem like a good idea in a pool full of people, it was a Saturday afternoon, afterall. But this time, seeing all the uberly fit dudes surging past me with their oh-so-refined freestyle, I was kind of motivated to do a little practice. It was kind of pathetic how easily I ran out of breathe, but it eventually got better...kinda. I went from being able to sustain it for half a lap to just barely a full lap. Heh, I'm working on it.

Swimming gives a really shiok feeling, and my mind just blanks out while doing it, which just makes it even better. I'll try to do this on a regular basis.

I had this whole section typed out but I'm not going to post it cause it just didn't feel right. Kind of how fresh milk turns sour and rancid when you leave it out in the open for too long. The moment is past, and that's it, I guess. I may come back to it again sometime, but that's up to chance. 


I can't hold a candle to you. Cause you're brilliant, like the sun. If I get too close, these waxen wings of mine will melt and fall apart. I just can't reach you. So go on, ever higher, while I grow wings of my own to give chase, as I stand rooted to the ground, head craned towards the sky.