Swimming

So as some of you may know I've been sick for the past couple of days. While this really hasn't affected my unemployed lifestyle all that much, it has hindered one activity that I've been enjoying recently; swimming.

For many of you this will seem like an odd choice of activity for me. You'd be right. "So why did you start?" is probably the question you're asking right now. (Actually the question you're probably asking is, "Is he still talking?" But it's my blog and I'll put words in your mouth if I want to. So, nah!)

Well consider this my origin story.

It all started about 15 years ago when my class took a field trip to a science lab and I was bit by a radioactive spider.

Editor: Oh for fuck's sake!

What?

Editor: That's Spider-Man's origin story.

It's not my fault Stan Lee used my story to create his iconic character.

Editor: You were born in, what? 1977?

Yeah...

Editor: Spider-Man was created in 1962 you dumb ass!

Okay the truth is I really don't know my origin. You see I was found wandering in the Canadian wilderness with no memories of my past. My only clue were metal claws that would

Editor: Wolverine.

Look, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry!

Editor: The Hulk. What's next? Super soldier serum? Millionaire parents killed in front of you? Maybe you're a alien from a doomed planet who likes to uphold American values and wear tights.

Uhh...

Editor: I'm really not looking for a fight today. Just give us the truth.

I... got fat.

Editor: What was that? I couldn't quite hear you.

I got fat.

Editor: BWAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! You see!!! You should have used the Blob's origin story you tubby bitch!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!! (Panic in his voice) Wait! What are you doing?!!! (Wild animal screams followed by wild human screams followed by a sudden disturbing silence.)

All done?

Editor: (Meekly) Where... did... you... get... a... badger?... (Passes out from rectal (?) blood loss.)

You never know when those things are going to come in handy.

Alright so the truth is out. I got fat. Months of inactivity and alcohol abuse took their toll. Also it should be noted that I have finally reached that fun age where me and my metabolism are no longer friends. In fact we are now mortal enemies. (Fun fact: My metabolism and I were supposed to finally settle our differences in the steel cage at UFC 100, but somehow the marketing people though Lesner was a bigger draw. No accounting for taste.) I've been aware of the problem for a while, but I'd gotten pretty good at ignoring it. At least until my Structural Intergration class. As many of you may know I'm studying a form of very deep tissue massage that attempts to effect the very structure of the human body. What you may not know is that after every other session we take a picture of ourselves, in bascially nothing but our underwear, so we can see what has changed after the session. This is never going to be a flattering photo, but I was ill prepared for what I saw.

I looked like a, slighty retarted, far less threating version of the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man. With an Autobots symbol. And hair.

Needless to say this was only a slighty better wake up call than, say, waking up and finding Rush Limbaugh trying to stuff his dick in your mouth. (The plus side to the Limbaugh situation is that you could be perfectly justified in beating the ever loving shit out of the man. And let's face it we've all wanted to do it, but don't want to get caught.) Something NEEDED to happen.

My teacher suggested swimming.

Now there a few problems that I have with this concept.

First I haven't swam in years, and when I did I sucked. Bad. Seriously I think people were worried I was having a seizure in the pool. I'm amazed no one jumped in to "rescue" me. So yeah I suck. But because of my size I have to go to some kind of lap pool, because in a normal pool one push off the side and I'm on the other side. No exercise occuring there. Really my only opition is to go to the big kid's pool and swim there. So what's the problem? You know who swims at lap pools? Do you?

People who can swim, that's who. So you're surrounded by people who KNOW how much you suck. Because, you know, they don't. Now I know what you're thinking. "People out there to swim aren't paying attention to you." While you do have a point you're forgeting something. Lifeguards. That's right, these people are payed to sit and watch you suck.

Hell, even the KIDS are good swimmers. Nothing is more frustrating that trying to do a physical activity and being schooled by a 9 year old.

You know, I think the next sport I pick up will be boxing. Think about it. I don't care how good some little nine year old phenom is. Chances are the little bastard won't even be able to hit me above the belt without jumping, and hitting me below the belt is against the rules. I like my odds. You put him in the ring with me and I WILL knock him the fuck out!

By the way, did I mention I'm available for childrens' birthday parties?

So yeah I suck. But really that's not the problem. The problem was my previously mentioned marshmellow appearence. Honestly the weight wasn't as big of a deal as I expected. You see, there's an almost equal ratio of overweight to perfectly fit people at the pool. It's strange because you really don't think of these groups as interacting together. It's almost like footage of different animals drinking at the same watering hole on the Discovery Channel. Of course that footage almost always ends with one of the stronger sleeker animals killing and eating one of the more docile ones.

My advise when going to the pool is this. Find someone slower than you. Stick close to them. If the shit goes down push the slower person in the way. Hopefully this will give you time to escape.

This advice can also be used in case of a zombie outbreak.

(Why do I assume so many things will end in cannibalism?)

No the real problem was my skin tone. Or to be more specific my total lack skin tone. Honestly I look like an albino covered in SPF 1000 sunscreen and white paint. Don't believe me? Totally true story. One of the first times I went out to the pool a fucking moth landed on me. Think about that for a minute. Middle of a cloudless, sunny, day next to a white building, and yet appearently this moth thought I was the brightest fucking thing around. I should really consider renting myself out as a light source.

But something odd happened. I tanned. I have never tanned. The other day I put on a white shirt, and I was darker than the shirt. It's sad how hard this was for me to comprehend. I just kept looking at myself in the mirror, with a look of utter confusion on my face.

Appearently I have the comprehension level of a hampster.

Still eventually I got over all this shit and got my ass to the pool. And you know what? I feel really good. I don't know if I've lost any flab, but I feel far better about myself. And really I think that's the most important thing.

Editor: (coming to) All that shit, and you wind it all up with a couple of sugary lines that could have been lifted from a PSA?

Well... Knowing is half the battle.

Editor: ugh...

Where did I put that badger?