I miss the swimmers.

Last night I was reading through the Splash magazine, a magazine published by USA Swimming, that anyone registered with USA Swimming receives for free every two months. (I am registered because I was a coach less than a year ago. I’m not sure how long that registration lasts, and I wouldn’t be upset if USA Swimming just kept on sending me Splash after it ends.)

I saw this picture of a group of about 5 girls in suits, some had towels wrapped around them, some had warm-ups on. They were gathered around their coach, who was sitting in a chair near the starting blocks. Some of the girls were standing; one was sitting on the floor, stretching her legs. They all had their hair pulled up into messy “swimmer” buns on top of their heads, so that, when they put their caps on, they look like cone heads. One girl was behind the coach, looking over his shoulder at something he was holding – probably a heat sheet.

I stared at this picture for probably three minutes – I don’t even know what the caption or story was about, if it even had a caption or story. I wave of nostalgia flowed over me.

Oh, I miss the swimmers! What strong people they are! I remember walking around at meets in the summer, passing huge girls with dried out skin stretching over their faces, with, of course, the swimmer “buns” – I think there’s two meanings there – and feeling intimidated. Swimmer girls are not like other girls. They have a crazed confidence – they’ll pee in the pool, then fill up their mouths with the water and spit it out at someone. Wedgies are uncomfortable, but they don’t care if they flip turn and their butt is hanging out. The Russian women water polo players, for instance, literally had thongs for the butts in their suits – does anyone else besides me remember that? They’ll walk around in a too-tight swimming suit with legs that haven’t been shaved for six months.

But, more than any of that, they have mental strength. They have to in order to be able to do the great amount of work they do with the very little, if any, reward received.

When the day came that I quit swimming competitively, I was relieved. But a chunk of my life was removed after that. And I’ve been going downhill ever since. I feel WEAK now. My sisters are constantly reminding me that my muscle mass has seriously deteriorated. But, even more disabling than that, I feel mentally weak. My crazed confidence – and it wasn’t even that great when I was younger – is gone. I often feel like I’m incapable of doing anything, even just cooking food that tastes good. I know that when I quit swimming, it was time for me to quit. I just wasn’t prepared for what exactly that meant for me. I don’t always have the best reactions to things that happen, like other people do. I mean, look at Ben. He vowed to never set foot in a pool again, and his mental capacity has grown exponentially ever since! His belly has too, though. Just kidding, Benji.

So, I’m striving to re-live my swimming years through Emily’s swimming career. But, it’s hard to do, because I never get to go to any of her meets. (USU and WSU need to trade places!! Grrr…) What am I going to do when she’s done though? Why does it have to end? I guess I should ask, why did the crazed confidence have to end? That's what I miss the most. My Dad would say, “It’s just how life is.” At least I have the memories of how it all felt.

OTHER NEWS: Ben got a brace for his wrist. He’s been having bad pain for a couple weeks, and finally went to the doctor; to find out he has tendinitis. It looks very cute on him, but is heart-wrenching at the same time.