I float, I doggy paddle, I tread water, I do the backstroke, but I'm not a 'swimmer'.
However, every day I force my body to swim as far out into the ocean as I can, allowing the waves to resist my movements, granting me the cardio I need to pump fresh blood through my damaged muscles, in an effort to relieve my bitch of a back.
It really helps. Today, I woke up with pain, feeling like I was almost going to be a Limping Lesbian, and now I feel like I could run a marathon.
In more ways than one, let me tell you.
You see, today I was feeling so strong that I felt I could swim out to the buoys in the water.
In the resorts, they have it cordoned off to keep us gringos locos under control and safe.
Every day, I have swam closer and closer to them. Today, I was so impressed! I was going to make it all the way!
I proudly doggy paddled and puffed as my heart pounded with gratitude, allowing my blood to rush through my veins.
I was almost there!!!
Then I felt it.
Something. Something met BOTH of my thighs!
Whatever the fuck it was, it was big enough the it touched the entire length of my thighs!!!
Never in my life have I been so distressed, thinking of what the fuck it might have been!!!!!
In an instant, I was an olympic swimmer. I immediately flipped over onto my back and began the back stroke so fast, that if I wasn't so scared, I would have impressed myself.
I honestly didn't know I could go so fast.
I prayed that the entity I just bumped with my body wasn't a man eating shark.
I don't believe in a 'god', but I'll tell you, I was praying like a teenage girl who's period was late.
I was practically in tears.
Ok, if I'm going to be honest, I WAS in tears and didn't care if anyone heard me saying, "Please don't eat me! Please let me live! I beg of you, please!!!"
When I got closer to the happy-go-lucky people on their little floaty devices, bobbing around like a bunch of dingbats, they looked at this water logged Honky 'Fro gringo, as if I was from another planet.
At shore, my heart was pounding faster than it ever did when I was training for boxing. My trainer would have been proud!
The man who waded past me was looking at me as if to say, "Bitch! You're on holiday! Chill for chrissakes!"
I wasn't quite sure if I would make it to my lounging chair, because I was positive that exerting myself to that point was going to make me pass out, or have a heart attack.
Not to mention, I wasn't sure if I should check my drawers to see if that liquid running down my legs was only water and not the fact that I shit my pants.
I tried to reassure myself, "It was not a whale. It was a sand dune they put there to keep the tourists safe from sharks."
Today, my only mission is to find someone who speaks enough English to tell me that is correct.
If not, my swimming will be kept from buoy to buoy in the shallow end, hoping that I don't get creamed by the children bouncing around in the waves.
When I came back to the room to frantically tell Papi about my terrifying experience, I didn't get to right away. He had an experience of his own to share.
"Did you see the cockroach I trapped under the glass?!?!?! That was the most horrifying thing I've lived through!"
He continued to tell me his alarming story, until I had to butt in and tell him that a whale grazing my thighs trumps his dirty cock-a-roach.
Oh, vast sea, how I respect you so much more.
i am brave