Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Wild Wave Women

Every Wednesday, throughout this summer, several friends and I  have been meeting at the beach.  Yes, we are that lucky to live in southern California and have weekly beach trips while the rest of the country goes to the monotony of a mall, a dinky lake, or a boring river.  Do I sound pompous and arrogant about where I live? I'll try to remain tactful and not rub it into any one's face that I get to lay in the warm sand, chat with friends, watch playful dolphins and muscular lifeguards, and refresh my legs in cool ocean water.  I won't say another word about living in a warm beautiful city that tourists come to from all over the world for a week at a time and I am here year round. Hmmm.

My friend, Chris, and I got pretty crazy today. For the second time this summer, we got our feet wet. The water was 70.5 degrees, so our bravery is extreme.  The other two moms were not feeling the same dare devil heart that Chris and I were experiencing.  They hung back in the safety of the dry warm towels and wished us luck as we ventured forth to the frothy salt water.  

While cascading toward the wide open sea, our feet took in the change from dry to moist to wet to anticipation to actually touching the water in good stride.  Our hearts pumped faster. A light shallow wave brushed over our toes. Chris was ready to return to the safety of our friends and dry towels but I, like a true friend, threw peer pressure her way and convinced her to stick it out.  She did and we inched forward.  Soon the coolness was lapping at our ankles, teasing our calves, and sneaking a blow at our knees. It was a wild moment.

After holding our sandy ground for at least three minutes, we marched back to our companions.  Triumphant and proud, we had challenged ourselves in the extreme sport of 'middle-aged mom getting her feet wet at the beach'.  I'm still feeling the pride.

There was a shirt I wore as a teen stating that 'if it's too loud--you're too old'.  I think I've crossed the point into the side of being too old.  My kids play their music too loud, the beach water is too cold, and sitting with friends beside a pool is more fun than swimming.  

The great thing is that I am happy sitting with my friends and doing the occasional water dipping.  Next week, however, will be my yearly full body swim day.  You may hear a scream of shock, fear, and joy coming from southern California.  Don't be alarmed--that will be me.

Because as they say, "Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History"

Heather Leigh

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