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October 25, 2011.
I don't think I've ever cried as much on the inside as much as I did today. It was definitely one of those 'I'm-going-to-kill-myself-if-i-have-to-do-one-more' days, and of course I ended up doing a set that made us repeat over and over and over. It wasn't that the set was terribly long, or the interval was absolutely insane, it was just the fact that A) I'm freakishly out of shape. Im practically obese. B) I had no patience today. and C) I was TIRED. I know, "Sammi, please, you were TIRED? Suck it up." Shut up, alright? I have school to deal with, too. Its quite sad really. I suffer from a disease called Procrastination. Unfortunately there are many side effects to this sickening illness, but one of the most dire is that the victim ends up staying up until 2 in the morning the entire final week of the term.
Then going to practice and getting her TRASH KICKED.
Needless to say...
October 24, 2011.
Starting out practice, I thought it would be nice to finally get a break from the killer sets we've been doing in the past. Sadly, I was dead wrong. I would rather get my butt kicked and make progress than stare at the bottom of the pool wondering what Im going to do with my life.Rachel and I decided to kick it in lane 7, at the very far end of the pool. Not gonna lie, I kinda love that lane. Its so far away from everything, and the coaches hardly ever walk all the way over to watch your swimming, so you can pretty much get away with everything but walking off deck. Although Im sure you could get away with that if you were really stealthy and ninja-like. Unfortunately, I discovered the hard way, that if you ask for solitude, you're going to get solitude.
I was so bored. Consequently I started thinking about things in my life that didn't apply to swimming. Frankly, I started thinking a little too hard. Analyzing, weighing pros and cons of different situations, the whole bit.
I'd like to say that I left practice with this new sense of self and that I now know what I'm going to do with my life, but to be honest, I got nothin. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
The only thing I have from that practice is the all too familiar scent of chlorine, and a new appreciation for swimming in Lane 7.