As I write this, a mellow jazz ensemble plays in the background and I'm reclining on my sofa elevating because my feet are sore. Why are my feet sore? Because it has been an absolutely spectacular day. You couldn't bribe Mother Nature for better weather in the 3rd week in July - it was wall to wall sunshine, temperatures in the low 70's, and low humidity... and an afternoon sea breeze! What did my husband and I do all day? We spent six hours outdoors with our eldest grandkids. It may have been a bit on the excessive side, considering they are now pre-teenagers, (and we're both in our 50's), but we didn't get a chance to see them last weekend due to the rainy weather.
Our oldest daughter brought them one of our favorite swimming hangouts. Normally, we pick them at my daughters house, but today held the annual Lobster Bike Race, where the starting point of this madness is approximately three-quarters of a mile from her home. The road she lives on is the first leg of this race, and any attempt to exit her driveway is extremely difficult. Not only is it a narrow, waterfront road that has lots of winding curves, but there is no shoulder what-so-ever. There are lots of old summer cottages close to the road and one can only imagine the insane dance with regular street traffic and approximately 250-300 cyclists filling the road all jockeying for position. It is a race, you know, and it's every person for themselves. Damn the traffic and traffic laws. All entitlement - no limits... and no love.
Once at the small park where we swim, the grandkids said their goodbye's to their Mom, quickly said hello to Dave and I, stripped off their street clothes, (their swim suits were on underneath), flung off their flip-flops, and made a b-line for the water. My grand-daughter commented on "how warm" the water was. I wasn't so sure. However, it didn't matter to her as she loves swimming. I noticed the other people at the beach; they all had canoes and kayaks. They would be enjoying the water without getting wet.
By now, both grandkids were beckoning me to come into the water. I ran interference and sent my husband in my place. Even though he said the water wasn't cold, I still wasn't convinced. I told my family I would go in the water when I was hot enough after soaking up some rays. I find as I get older, I love being warm. I don't like the cold. When I was a child, I didn't have this love / hate relationship with temperature. However, after about an hour, my bored grandson asked me for probably the fourth time if I was coming in for a swim. I knew the water temperature hadn't climbed ten degrees in the past hour, but I love my grandchildren more than being cold.
As I made my way into the water, it was truly bath water until I was up to my lower shin, but as I traversed deeper into the lake, it felt colder. By the time I was waist deep, I was almost shivering. The breeze blowing down the length of the lake didn't help matters. Plus I knew it was only a matter of time before my darling grand-kiddos would be splashing me anyways. Young kids are like that. They want to share their love of the water... whether I wanted the same or not. We had a pleasant swim - out to a diving dock and back, which was about a total of 400 feet in distance. When I was a young adult, swimming this distance was a cake-walk. I also found swimming very relaxing. I still do - only now, I'm realizing just how out of shape I am!
I realized that even though the water was colder than I liked, I need to love myself more. My husband and family can only do so much. I have the final say about what and how much I eat, what I think, how little (or a lot) I beat myself up, and how much activity I can do to keep myself healthy. In other words, how much I positively engage with myself. I know I'm not 25 anymore - but that doesn't mean I have to become a vegetable that doesn't exercise and watch TV all day. Over the past two days, my husband and I spent a great deal of time outside. As a result, it has been a very busy weekend for us... and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I loved every moment of it.
How about you? How was your weekend?
Until next time, one exhausted Grammy,
Jill
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