Swimming

When I was fourteen, I joined the local swim team.  My older brother and sister had been on it the year before and I thought I'd feel more mature.  But I should have known that they had an A team and a B team, and I got put on the B team, where most of the others were eleven or twelve.  As a result, I ended up feeling less mature.  But my mother was a big believer in it, and I didn't dare quit.

I remember one time when we registered for races at an upcoming meet.  I asked whether I was ready to race in the breast stroke category-- I hadn't been previously-- and the person said yes.  But then the day of the meet came and my name had been removed from that category.  When I asked about it, the coach explained that my kick wasn't legal. (I don't remember whether it was supposed to be above the surface of the water or below.) It turned out that I'd asked the wrong person whether I was ready, because the right person wasn't there.

All this made me feel stupid on several levels.  It was stupid of me to think I was ready when I clearly wasn't.  It was stupid of me to ask for an explanation when I should have just known I wasn't good enough.  And it was stupid of me to think I was getting somewhere and participate in this swim team that clearly didn't need me.

I continued with the swim team for the rest of the season, but I didn't enjoy it.  Today I rarely swim.