At least that’s what it felt like, sitting by my Yahoo account, waiting for the email to arrive telling me that I was selected in the Chesapeake Bay Swim lottery. There I sat, waiting, excited for the “new mail” icon that I knew was about to pop up. Then I waited some more. Eventually, I wasn’t so excited anymore…in fact, I was getting a bit nervous. Finally, after battling through the denial, the anger, the humiliation, and the sorrow, I gave up. Like the girl who got stood up for her prom, I had to change out of my gown and back into my sweat pants and dive into a pint of Rocky Road. After all, it’s not like I have to be in shape or anything. It’s not like I have a 4.4 mile swim race to do this summer.
I still have one last chance…if they don’t fill the entire race in the first round, they’ll do another small round of selections. Perhaps, if they do another round, I’ll get picked for that one. Perhaps.
Ever get dumped by a guy you were really crazy about? So, Bay Swim, I guess I’m not good enough for you anymore. All that effort I put in all those years, trying to be good to you, finishing in the top three in my age group every time I swam, two of them wins? What more could I do to make you happy? I guess you got bored and just wanted to play the field, huh? Great. Fine, then. Just wait…you’ll come running back to me in the second round, but I won’t be there. I’ll be doing a race in Manhattan. I mean it.