[color=bdbdbd]So growing up, I had difficulty learning to swim. I never really achieved anything beyond the doggy paddle even with lessons and some guidance. There were a few times in my life where I'd nearly drowned for one reason or another so while I never actually had a fear of water, I had a fearful respect for it? If that makes any sense.

Anyways, my parents decided that because I'm [i]obviously[/i] a water child, they'd enter me into a competitive swimming team. This team mind you takes this swim stuff a little too seriously. We had a coach with a name what was synonymous with water. [i]Surge[/i]. Yeah. He was Russian or some such. Strict as hell, as are all the best teachers and mentors, and had a real swimmers body. Like muscles cut from stones and gorilla glued to his bones. The only way to tell his age without asking was to look at his face because those were the only muscles he never used.

Anyways, this guy. Day one he threw me in the water. Like I said I can't really swim so I doggy paddle from one side to the other. I can't even make it halfway before I start to flounder and grab the edge of the pool. Now this pool is 25 meters across. It's half the size of your Olympic pool also known as a "Short Course". I swam all of ten meters and I was out of breath.

Day two and it's more of the same. At this point they have me in my own section because I'm fucking holding up traffic. I'm the annoying old lady in the slow lane still going slower than you. I [i]cannot[/i] go any faster and I cannot for the life of me make it to the other side without stopping to catch my breath.

Day three turns into day four and this cycle of near death by ice cold water continues. Once I can finally touch the other side I think I'm good. NOPE. Time to learn how to do somersaults in the water you stunt double you. Now do them without stopping midstroke and looking at the wall. Now do them on your back without any reference at all. (No, that tiny string with flags moving all of the fucking place in the wind doesn't count)

Now do this stupid stroke called the "butterfly" because normal people swim like this.

Competitions arrive and.. yeah... I come in last of course. It's 100 goddamn meters. Four laps and I can still barely make one. Every time I come out of the water, I'm physically dying and to make it worse, the next heat is already at the pool waiting for me to get out. And of course my time is being blasted into the crowd via giant billboard.

Like I said, I have issues leaning to swim so this cycle continues for four years.

My very last year during my very last race... I don't finish last. I finish 6 out of 7. For the first time when I exit the pool, my body doesn't feel like it's dying and I'm waiting on someone else.

Later that year I take a job as a lifeguard and a year after that, I ended up rescuing a kid who was unconscious at the bottom of a pool.[hr][color=ffffff]What is your earliest memory?[/color]

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