I had to push myself to read through a lot of my old writing today. It was difficult, at times, remembering things I was happy to have forgotten.

This afternoon I swam in a pool, which neeever happens. Rarely have I felt more disconnect from my past physical self, in terms of forgotten actions. I know I have, in the past, been able to hold my breath longer than two strokes and not choke when I come up. I have distinct memories of swimming laps, of pushing off and crossing the pool underwater when I was little, of learning to do the underwater flip turn that swimmers do when they get to the wall. I can call up these memories, but today my body stuttered trying to reproduce them. Humbling? Frustrating? Maybe. I was less upset than I would expect from myself. Out of nowhere, I want to go back, try again.

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