Bathers – check.
Towel – check.
Kickboard – check.
Fins – check.
Goggles – check.
Swim pass – check.
Car keys – check.
Small child + accoutrements – check!

Right – all ready to go.   Jump in the car.  Drive to the pool.  Find a park.  Swipe in at the counter.  Go find an empty lane.  Dump my gear.  Disrobe outer garments.  Jump in pool.

Sigh… feel exhausted already!  Strike out at a slow and stead pace bobbing along up and down, up and down.  Fight the obsessive personality traits thing and try hard not to count the strokes because that’s just damn depressing.  Do first two laps and feeling okay.  Do another two laps and still feeling pretty good.  Maybe this getting stronger plan is going to pay off dividends eventually.

Then, look over at the sleek, lithe, aquatic-looking creature in the lane beside me and come to a sad realisation… We look about the same age but I have to acknowledge that he is doing about four or five graceful and effortless laps to every one of my slow and laborious bobbing up and down laps!  And I think to myself, ‘Mutter, mutter… got a fricken long way to go…  and doesn’t even look like he’s out of breath!’

Then I see something out of the corner of my eye that goes a hell of a looong way to making me feel less inadequate and so entirely hopeless.  Is that?  Are those?  Is that what I think it is?  Why, yes… that tattoo on his chest is a depiction of the internationally recognisable Olympic rings logo.  And then I notice the green and gold Aussie swimming cap and the speedos with “AUS” stamped firmly across the butt.  And then I notice he’s not alone and is swimming with several other equally superb aquadynamic specimens, some of whom are also likewise bedecked in Aussie swimming caps and “AUS” speedos… oh, and is that another Olympic rings logo tattoo?  Yep.

Well, suddenly I’m feeling a lot better about my lack of grace and prowess as I bob up and down up and down the lane barely managing to keep my head above water.  I shouldn’t compare myself to these small god-like creatures who’ve been training in the pool for years… ‘Come and talk to me guys when you’ve been in pain for the last 20 years and can’t walk properly!’

By the time I finish my allotted laps for the afternoon, I am in a lot of pain and absolutely stuffed… and I’m well aware that I’ve done but a fraction of the distance, with a fraction of the technical proficiency of my fellow swimmers – by now they have all gotten out of the pool, changed poolside and are standing around in a huddle listening intently to a weatherworn looking gent who, given he was earlier barking incomprehensible numbers at them as they turned at the end of their laps, I assume must be their coach.

It is then that I notice that they’re all huddled around exactly where I left my towel and my clothes.  🙁  Now, I’m not one usually one for false modesty, and I’m not usually one known for being hideously self conscious nor do I usually get all wrapped up in negative thoughts about my body image.  Thanks to four nasty car accidents and PCOS (which resulted in infertility, insulin resistance and multiple miscarriages)… My body and I have had, what I would characterise as an uneasy relationship, for many years.  The body I have is nothing like that which I should prefer it to be.  And I have often felt it has stymied me at ever turn, forever rising in revolt against me time and time again… In fact I consider my body to be somewhat of a traitor!  It never lets me do what I want, it never turns the pain down to a dull roar, it never works properly at all!  But all the same, you only get one, and this one is the one that I am stuck with, and my physical limitations have forced me to accept and recognise years ago that it’s physical appearance just is what it is.  I’ve always been far more concerned with it’s complete lack of willingness to co-operate with me on the pain and the fertility thing that how it looks!  So for the most part, meh, I accept the neat figure of my youth is long gone and take solace in being told I have ‘an awesome rack’.  What are you going to do? *shrug*

BUT that said, there was no way in hell I was going to get out of that damn pool in my granny togs with their bust support and walk into the middle of that teeming pile of tanned, sleek, capable, healthy, muscular bodies!  Nope.  No way, no how.  Just not gonna happen!  So I did a couple more very slow laps and thought, they must be leaving soon.  A couple more laps… argh starting to really feel serious acute pain in my shoulder girldle and am clenching my teeth here.   And just as I reluctantly decide with a decidedly sinking feeling, that I’m going to have to walk in among that collection of super fit, fine athletic Olympic specimens to fetch my towel and get ready to go home… suddenly they disperse and leave.

Phew.  Disaster averted.  I wouldn’t have to display my blindingly white thighs and quasi-tuckshop arms to the Beautiful People after all.  🙂   And almost immediately, I felt rather sheepish and more than little bit silly at being relieved!

Time to try and change tack here.  I’ve been down, extremely down.  It happens to the best of us, and it happens to chronic pain sufferers and people diagnosed with chronic major depressive disorders, all the fucking time.  With the big ticket items (like good health, a pain free and drug free life, and more children) being well and truly out of reach on the ‘too high shelf’ I think it’s time to start trying to focus on the little things.

So I’m going to try and make a list of things that make me happy and then I’m going to try and start spending more time focusing of The Good Stuff(tm) no matter trivial, how silly, how meaningless or how unimportant they might seem… just feeling the need to hang on to, and acknowledge the little things.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

cuddles with my son
walking in heavy rain getting drenched
loud music that makes you want to dance
rolling around on soft carpet
cheese and wine shared with friends
big hugs at the end of a long day
finding a truly eloquent turn of phrase
listening to Straddie birds outside my house
laughing so hard you end up crying
having a clean kitchen with clear empty surfaces
being the little spoon
having someone brush my hair
a mug of port on a cold night
sliding into clean sheets on my bed
having my feet tickled
canoodling on the couch to watch a movie
sharing Fruit Tingles with the Not So Small Child
bubble wrap, ’nuff said
passionate debates about world issues over dinner
getting my nails done so I feel like a girly-girl
finishing a job, any job, and doing it well
crunching sweet corn off the cob
watching otters mingle and play
staring into campfires
ticking things off my many ‘to do’ lists
warm sun on my back in cold weather
non-window enveloped snail mail
feeling safe and comfortable in my home
watching the sunrise somewhere new
guacamole any time, anywhere
tickets for anything – looking forward to stuff
wrapping my hands around a hot drink
green tree frogs
reading books I loved as a child
the smell of the mock oranges at night
looking through A’s baby photos (sad but wonderful)

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.
Mahatma Gandhi