9:30 on a Tuesday Night

9:30pm on a Tuesday night. I wasn’t hanging out with Sheryl Crow and I wasn’t headed downtown to check out anything. I was in the pool. Naked. Ever since my husband has been able to swallow the idea of running an 8k he has been the excellent athlete in training. Once he spit out the notion of a r.a.c.e. he has been able to bite down on the rest of the program – sit ups, push ups, he’s up for anything. Which has made me game for the same.

After Kisa took to his football game (a new release) I took to the treadmill and ran an easy 2.8mi. I say easy because it was only 30 minutes and I could sing at the top of my lungs without getting winded. It felt good to not worry about getting tired (for once!). Then it was time to work on the arms – not so easy. I’m starting the 30-20-10 bi/tri program (three sets of push ups and tri-dips with, you guessed it, 30, 20, and 10 reps). Sit ups were much, much easier. 100 reps of five different exercises. Then. The pool.

I am not a pool loving girl. The chlorine chemicals alone kill me. The idea of floating around in a man-made bucket of warm water sends me to insanity. Give me the beautiful Atlantic ocean (sharks, seaweed, salt and all) any day and I’m all the way happyhappy. In the year+ we have owned the house I have not submerged myself in the fake-water pool once. Only this summer have I really started floating around on a lounge/raft thing and truly enjoying myself. This time Tuesday was different. Hot, sweaty, and cranky I needed air. And water. A shower wouldn’t cut it. The pool called my name. Dusk was settling in. The sky was turning shades of baby blue to black. My favorite time of day-night. Crickets rubbed noisily and bats darted across the darkening sky. A rabbit tiptoed wide-eyed across the lawn. The pool’s water looked, well…shimmering and perfect. Without bothering with a swimsuit I jumped in wearing just a sports bra and boy shorts. As soon as I hit the water I felt ridiculous. My backyard is completely private. It was getting darker than dusk. Who could see me? The rabbit? Bats? Suddenly it seemed silly to be so sensitive. I lost the clothes and swam for nearly an hour in the dark until it was time for bed. The solitude and soothing rhythm of the rippling water was the perfect story. The perfect bedtime story.

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Categories: Confessional, Hilltop, life, running | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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