Pool Rules (Self-imposed)

Thy shall just jump into the water without testing it. 
Thy shall not flutter thy eyes to check what  other souls are lurking around.
Thy shall not judge thyself by how others look.
Thy shall focus their eyes only on the water and once inside thy shall only  SWIM.

We have amazing pools in Basking Ridge ranging from Olympic-sized to a mini version of a water park to toddler friendly smaller pools. Even with all these pools around me I somehow manage to evade swimming. My average is two times per season for the past eleven years that I have been in this town. And I am at the pool with my kids almost four times a week. I am not conscious of my swimsuit-clad body, I do know how to swim. So why do I stay out rather than go in the water?

I always have a very good reason for not getting into the pool. For me all stars have to be properly aligned. My hair shouldn’t be washed and styled just that morning. The hair follicles on my limbs should have been appeased and put to a temporary restful state. The temperature should be between a balmy 78 to a hot 80 degrees. The time should be around 5 pm when the sun does not scorch my skin. My friends shouldn’t be there ,for I don’t want to miss out on the conversation while I am clumsily doing laps. Who knows if I am the topic of conversation?  

You get the picture. Excuses galore!
                               
So I made these aforementioned rules for myself so I can take a dip every now and then. By the way, I figured out, to my heartfelt satisfaction, that I am not the only one. There are many like me who sit by the pool but barely get in the water — ever.

It is not that I come intending to lounge around. I spend a good fifteen minutes getting ready.

In a  brightly colored canvas bag, I pack towels, sun-screen, money for the ice cream truck or the vending machine, some snacks for the kids, some healthy snacks for me (mind you - there is a clear distinction) and...a book to read. I enter the pool area in style in my decent swimming suit with a nice wrap. My straw hat shades my face, and my sunglasses shade my eyes, and an umbrella shades my arms.

I  pass by the baby pool first. I take in the shrieks of little kids, moms and dads sitting on the edge of the little pool, coaxing their toddlers to keep in the pool or coaxing them out of the water. I walk further.

I take in all of it — in one gulp, sooner than I can gulp down a fresh fruit smoothie. I  locate the table with the umbrella on top and friends already parked under. I feel my resolve breaking. I take a deep breath. My kids are already in the water and beckoning me to jump in. I smile. I can’t let this happen. I didn’t slather the sun screen on my body, don the swim suit, wear a matching wrap and pack my goggles for nothing. Enough is enough. I move forward and greet my friends and...plop myself on a chair and CHAT.