There were so many things I said I was going to do this summer. Catch up on my book reviews, for one (I know, they’re coming, I swear). Post my summer mixes (also coming!). Draw a Sebastian comic that takes place in the summer (per K’s request). Finish the book I am writing. Perhaps that last one should have been first, as it’s probably the most important.
I have learned something about nearing the end of something major that you’ve been working on; it can catapult you into inaction. For nearly a year now I have been close to the end of this novel I’ve been writing and I’ve practically stalled in writing it. I find myself glued to pages that I didn’t write instead. I find myself searching out television from other countries since there’s hardly anything good on here in the good old US of A (though, to be fair, I always did that). I find myself spending hours collecting and compiling music into my iTunes and making playlists. I find myself thinking about the characters I’ve created an awful lot. Know what I don’t find myself doing? Actually writing it. I know why this is, it’s because I’m terrified. Because once I’ve finished I have to start the process of editing. A process that’s necessary and will undoubtedly make what I’ve created better but which also means I need to start looking at it as a reading and deciding whether or not it’s good. It’s the part of the whole thing where I start thinking I’m terrible and I should just stop and realize I’m going to become one of those old ladies that sits at diner counters chatting up strangers, showing them pictures of my cats, and ruminating on lost dreams. I might as well buy the oversized sweaters and a string for my glasses now.
But all is not lost. One month from today my good friend who shares my name is getting married! In Switzerland! So D and I are trekking it through Europe. One month from now we will have already have jetted off to Barcelona, and landed in Zurich. We’ll be staring Vienna in the face, along with Prague, Stockholm, and Berlin. I obviously can’t wait. There’s nothing I love more than travelling. And the wedding is in this town:
Which obviously just looks like a scene from The Sound of Music. And will probably cause me to walk around humming ‘Edelweiss’ the whole time. But, hey, it could be worse. ‘Edelweiss’ is a small price to pay to be able to sit nestled between a few Alps. Jungfrau isn’t even that far away. My *many* avid readers may remember that from here.
One actual productive thing I have started strong with this summer is swimming. My gym has an amazing pool. I mean, really. There’s a waterslide. The downside is that the waterslide is populated by tiny children with an occassional parent. I have not yet seen a full grown up person slide down the slide on their own for fun’s sake. And believe me, I have been watching. I suppose I could forge ahead on my own, blaze a trail of adults taking over this slide. The kids would probably go down without a fight. But, it does seem relatively inappropriate. But, it’s also irksome because the waterslide takes up the only deep end that the pool has. And when I say pool I really mean pools because this complex is four pools. One pool is for lap swimming, one pool catches the sliders at the bottom, one pool is for kids to splash around, and one pool is for floating in all relaxed like. I do feel like there is a pretty large miss opportunity here. A diving board, for one. But it’s hard to complain when you’re sitting in one of the millions of deck chairs with an umbrella positioned above you to block out the sun, if that’s what you prefer and me and my Victorian sensibilities do prefer it, with a nice glass of lemonade from the poolside snack bar.
But I digress, because while the pool is amazing I spend the majority of my time there in the indoor pool. It’s less populated and I don’t have anything to distract me from my laps. Yes, that’s right, laps. I used to be on a swim team when I was in middle school and younger. I remember jumping in the pool and swimming for hours. Back and forth in freestyle, breast stroke, backstroke, occasionally butterfly. I got tired, sure. I got hungry, definitely. But I never stopped. I was capable! So when I jumped in the pool so many years later I was expecting to be able to go for at least a half hour. So, you can imagine my surprise when after my first 100 yards I found myself puffing away, gasping for air, and stretching out cramps. My face was bright red, my body ached, my arms screamed to let them be. It was sort of humiliating. But I forced myself to continue and lo and behold it has gotten easier. Nothing like when I was young and could go forever, but better. I guess it goes along with any other type of exercise. Even if it’s far more awkward when there’s no one else in the pool and the lifeguard has nothing else to do but stare at me and my shaking thighs while I breast stroke kick.