A True Swim Lesson

For anyone who shared the same distain for the month of August that I did growing up, you know exactly why. No, it wasn't the heat that brought me to tears as swim meets and July 4th drifted into my memory... because we all know that when you're relaxing and playing in a pool it doesn't matter how hot it is outside. August meant going back to school. It meant real clothing, shoes and bedtimes. Not to mention homework. And as a kid, I'm not sure what's worse.

Flash forward to now, when my high school class officers are literally in the process of planning our 10 year reunion, and I've almost lost hope of ever feeling that free again. As an adult, there is no such thing as Summer Vacation. I usually refer to it with fond and yet condescending nostalgia, as if all my pride lies in the responsibility I've created for myself. But in all actuality, Summer has transformed into a season of opportunity for extra work instead of extra relaxation. I could lie to myself and try to believe I don't know how this happened, as if I had an overnight miracle like Tom Hanks in "Big", but I do. And tonight, at approximately 7:05pm, after three months of working 10-12 hour days, I was reminded of what Summer should mean. At least for me.

I was giving another swim lesson to a happy, fast-learning 5 year old girl in her backyard pool. This was our last lesson for the summer and from 6:30-7:30pm it was going to be my standard teaching of freestyle, backstroke, and maybe a little butterfly. But as I tried my best to peak her interest yet again, I was failing. I could feel her resisting. Not with stubborn disobendience, but with a certain sadness unexplained by obvious circumstance. It was at this moment I decided to stop being "Coach Julia" and genuinely asked her what was wrong. With tears in her goggles she looked up at me and said in the quietest voice you've ever heard, "I just want to free-swim". I couldn't blame her.

Neither could her mom. So there we went... flipping and playing, having handstand contests and swimming under eachother's leg tunnels. Memories of playing "Sharks and Minnows", "Marco/Polo" and "Colors" came rushing in... along with the silly "George Washington" hair-dos, "Little Mermaid" impressions and the ever-embarrassing wedgie wars. I truly felt like I was on summer vacation again, 10 years after the last one I got to experience. And all because a 5 year old stated what she wanted. There wasn't a fit, no breakdown or fight. She simply placed it into the universe for us to embrace or swat away like a bee. And I think if it had been any other night, I would have squashed it dead. But when it comes down to it, don't we all just want to free-swim? I wonder what would happen if we all stayed true to what we really wanted... I can tell you right now my work weeks would be three days, ha. Wouldn't yours?

Instead, I've just finished a microwaved meal and plan to work out in my living room. But it's ok! My consolation is that tomorrow is Friday. And in both kid and adult world it means the same thing: two days of freedom. I may have a different set of interests for my free time than a 5 year old, but Saturday and Sunday are the prize and we're all in the merry-go-round race together. I suppose I should make the most of it and enjoy my time with the kiddos I am blessed with meeting. Maybe they'll remind me of more lovely concepts. Afterall, kids do say the darndest things. Let's hope the next one wishes out loud for me to win the lottery...Wait, you have to play to win?

Those Summer Nights

As the Austin evenings have grown warmer, the bugs have grown louder. And I'm perfectly fine with it. To me it's a true sign that Summer has arrived. Maybe not on the calendar, but in the memory of my adolescence.

Up until I was corrected about 10 years ago, I used to think the lovely chirping came from some sort of a cricket. It's actually the male Cicadas (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cicada)
singing their nightly ballad. I like to think it's just for me.

During my 25, going on 26 Summers here in Texas, a good portion of them were spent at Balcones Woods pool. I would attend swim practice as early as 8am and literally stay all day. Some form of lunch was usually bummed off one of the Lifeguards (Doritos or an Ice Cream Sandwich) but if we were lucky, they'd go to Taco Bell or Schlotsky's and share some of their treasured fast food with us, the "pool rats".

The afternoons were usually spent napping on lawn chairs playing Truth or Dare or the forbidden game of "Buns Up" behind the tennis courts- at which point most kids would get hungry enough to go home for dinner. Not me.

I stayed until the last Adult Swim whistle blew at 8:50pm, when the skies became dark and the pool lights came on. That's when the summer bugs sing.

I still think about it every single time I hear them... About the care-free days in the sun with nothing to do except swim. The whole Summer was mine, to do with it what I wanted- and that was be at the pool, day and night.

I remember the intense feeling of freedom I'd get during the evening of the last day of school... sitting by the pool as the sun went down, knowing I had the next 3 months all to myself. It was truly priceless. And I realize that now more than ever.

I push the guilt I feel aside during my recent adult Summers- during all those Monday-Friday office hours I spend inside under fluorescent lights. The window I sit next to offers a view of the blue sky under which my instincts tell me I should be lying in a lawn chair eating an Otter Pop (green is my favorite).

I daydream of putting on my bikini rather than office attire each morning. I have more outdoor towels than bath towels. I have multiple designated "pool bags" that are always ready to go, given that I make time to be by the water on my Saturdays and Sundays.

But considering today is only Tuesday and I was not in my bikini at all, my interaction with the Summer Bugs was on my evening drive on Mopac. I opened the windows and lowered Lady Gaga for once, just so I could hear their song. They offer me a sort of peace, a version of freedom through my nostalgic attachment to their annual impression on my younger self.

So here's to the nights we felt alive, the Summers I can't get back, and the people who made my childhood great. Oh, and to you, Summer Bugs ;)

Sunshine & Lawn Chairs

Although baking my body in the sunshine is nowhere near healthy, I like to think that the Vitamin D I'm acquiring and pure relaxation is... and as I've said before, Mr. Boyfriend tells me I don't relax enough. I'd like to see the argument against taking a nap on a comfortable lawn chair with the sounds of a waterfall splashing softly in the distance.

I can't tell you how many times the phrase "I'm going to go lay out" (or some version of it) has left my lips during my life; growing up a swimmer, it was perfectly natural. Putting on my bathing suit first thing in the morning was (and is) like my version of coffee - it woke me up and got me energized. Now that I don't have actual swim practice to attend I can go strait for my bikini instead of my racing suit. Monday through Friday requires actual clothing, but thankfully, from March until October, the weekends are for the pool.

I could tell today was going to be one of the last days warm enough to bask in the afternoon heat before it gets replaced with true Fall temperatures. So, I happily tied on my suit, grabbed my best towel and threw on my sunglasses. It was only 3 o'clock and dinner wasn't until 7 - I had at least two good hours all to myself and the sun. On a whim, I grabbed the book I'm currently reading Shit My Dad Says, although almost every time I tell myself I'm going to read while at the pool I don't even get the publication out of my bag.

Maybe it's because the sun isn't as strong during this time of year as it is during the Summer (and therefore doesn't produce such definite tan lines) or because the book is absolutely hilarious while also endearing, I started reading as soon as I laid down. As any practiced sunbather has probably done, I held the book at such an angle as to not block any part of my body. Hey, an even tan is a good tan, right? I spent the next hour and 20 minutes (flipping over half way through, of course) turning page after page, all the while giggling and at times, tearing up with emotion. If you've ever felt like your Dad was hard on you as a kid or even as an adult, read this book. It will help you understand and appreciate the lessons he was probably trying to teach you at the time.

Books or magazines aside, laying out to me is like Church for some. The second my skin touches the towel and the sun warms my face, I feel at ease. I'm reminded that there is a power bigger than us. I specifically remember one Winter that seemed to last too long... it must have been early April before temperatures reached the mid 70s, acceptable bikini weather. (Anything below 74 is a bit chilly, even in the sun. Believe me, I've tried it more than once.) When I was finally able to season my wintry white skin, it was like I had just floated up to heaven. I felt my body sinking into the lawn chair like it was a puffy cumulonimbus cloud...and the rays of sun energize my soul like Red Bull gives those cartoon characters wings. I guess a little bit of me feels like that each and every time I lay out.

Another Summer behind us, I must bid farewell to my 2010 days of sunbathing... Halloween is almost here and then comes Thanksgiving: not exactly pool weather. I look forward to welcoming the month of March (although there have been times, 1999 & 2005, when I was able to get sun kissed as early as January) when I know my 2011 tan will begin. Until then, Sun, shine brightly on my Summer-bound friends Down Under.