I've made sense of my mild aversion to those darlings of the wedding world, the String of Fabric Triangles ("bunting"). They're backstroke flags! Those vinyl flags in primary colors that give the racing backstroke swimmer a heads-up to flip over so you can turn, already.
Before I trained myself to like running last summer, swimming was the only form of exercise I found enjoyable. I swam competitively from 5th grade through 10th grade, and by competitively, I mean that I was technically racing against other swimmers. Let's just say, I was not so terrible that it seemed like it would be less embarrassing for everyone if I would just quit, but I also wasn't making it to any regional or state meets. Just sort of a middleweight swimmer, I would spend those quiet hours in the warm poolwater four days a week scripting entire imaginary telenovellas featuring my friends and dudes we liked seeing Less Than Jake or whatever band play together. Aww.
I bought a membership to the downtown YMCA yesterday. Swimming for fitness as a grown-up is more complicated - there's equipment, packing a bag so you can shower away from home, observing pool hours, paying for pool access, circumnavigating the certain fleet of elderly kickboarders moving at a glacial pace. Up until May I was paying for a pool-less gym membership at a facility near my old place, and it seemed silly to also pay to swim somewhere. And the two lane lines at the city pool are always congested to the point where you absolutely cannot get your heart rate up.
Today there will be swimming! In a suit I think is from high school. That might be nearly see-through from wear. That might also not....completely...contain my butt. Sorry, old people.