I May Have A Problem 

Ever since I was a kid, I was into competition. Didn't matter what it was, if it involved at least two people, I wanted (desperately needed) to win. Even if nobody else was racing. Sledding as a kid was downright dangerous.  Hiking?  I was the first to the top.  Riding our bmx's around the yard?  Fuck that, let's set up a race course.  Baseball, track, basketball (although I sucked at basketball), football, basically any sport I could get my hands on in school,  I wanted to rule whether I actually did or not. 

After college (where I competed in academics (I know, totally lame)), mountain bike racing filled that void.  MUST COMPETE!!!!!!  Now that I've been out of action for two months, I'm getting restless to compete in something.  Anything.  On Saturday, while watching B's soccer game, I decided that once I'm better I'll play soccer even though I was brought up to think of soccer as a sissy's sport (no worries, I have since repented even though I do still think it's stupid).  Then, on Sunday, the whole fam went swimming.  I suck at swimming but apparently it will be the only aerobic activity I'll be able to do for a while that doesn't hurt the hip.  I swam about a quarter of a mile.  Pathetically slow and trying to not make eye contact with the life guards for fear of having to drown myself out of shame and humiliation.  I was thoroughly humbled but felt good to have gotten an actual workout in.  As we left the community center I see this:

Hmmm, swim team.  Competition.  Juices flowing.  That is, until I saw the schedule.  Monday and Wednesday 3:15-4:15?  In the afternoon?

Do only retired folks and independently wealthy people swim?  Shit, time to take up competitive needlework.