Eleven Years

The only thing I have done for longer than eleven years (besides breathe of course) is swim on my childhood swim team.

It has occurred to me of late, that my swim team experience is similar to my marriage.

I started on the swim team at age four. Some would argue that was too young. For me-just right.

I got married at the age of 24. Some would argue that was too young. For me-just right.

I was a very good swimmer when I was young. It came easy. As I grew and the field got more competitive because new members joined our team, I had to work harder to stay on top. Sometimes it sucked.

I was a very good wife when I was young. It came easy. Then more people started joining our team and I had to work harder to stay afloat. Sometimes it sucks.

Some of my greatest friends ever swam with me on the swim team. The friendships I made are within bonds that are eternal.

My best friend is on my team now and our bond is eternal.

I used to laugh so much during swim meets and practices that my sides would hurt.

The last eleven years have been filled with countless laugh-until-your-sides-hurt moments.

Friday morning swim team practices ended with cake.

Friday night King house practices usually end with pizza and beer-not quite the same as cake but equally yummy and eagerly anticipated.

I hated swim team practice. It was early every weekday morning. It was hard. It was usually cold. It was often raining. But I went every day. I dragged my butt out of bed because I made a commitment to a team. I stroked and turned and gasped for air during intervals.
Then, every Saturday I got to race. I loved Saturdays. There was no greater rush than the adrenaline when the gun went off and no better feeling than touching the wall inches ahead of number 2. I got to celebrate my small victory and then cheer on my teammates as they had theirs. Then at the end, we would cheer and party together because all our practice, commitment and hard work made us winners as a team.

Sometimes, marriage is like swim practice in the cold rain (I am sure)for both of us. But we still get up every day. We drag our tired butts through the weekdays of this thing because we made a commitment.

Over the last 11 years though, there have been plenty of Saturdays and I love Saturdays. We have had the rush of adrenaline buying houses, getting jobs, having babies. We have celebrated our individual victories getting graduate degrees, earning promotions, raising our babies.

In the end, we celebrate together because we have no doubt that all our practice, hard work and commitment makes us winners as a team.

I am so glad I was on my swim team for 15 years. I am a better person for it.

I am undoubtedly a better person because of my marriage. I sure am glad I picked this team. I’ll take the whole package, without changing a thing-weekday practice and all.