2012 is a leap year, which, besides the extra day we get, is awesome thanks to one major event. The Olympics.
But not just any ole Olympics. The Summer Olympics.
I might watch the Winter Olympics when they're on. And I might not. I just don't get as into it as I do the Summer Olympics. Mostly because of the swimming.
I was a swimmer in middle and high school. Actually, my mom started me on a summer YMCA team when I was 8 so I could become a stronger swimmer. When she signed me up, she mistakenly put me in the 9-10 age group thinking my summer birthday meant that was the group I was supposed to be in.
She was wrong.
In my very first meet, I had to swim two laps of the pool with the 9-10 year olds instead of the only one lap 8 year olds got to swim. I was not happy when I got out of that pool, but I finished.
I didn't fall in love with swimming that summer. But at the end of the season, the team took a trip to our local water park, which I did love. So when it came time to sign up for the next summer, I did. Pretty much solely for that water park trip.
It wasn't until the summer I turned 13 and attended swim camp that I really fell in love with the sport. Shortly afterward I joined a far more competitive team. My life quickly began to revolve around the pool. During the school year, we had 6 practices a week. During the summer it was 11 practices a week.
Meets were held every 3 weeks or so. And they weren't just a few hours on a Saturday. Smaller meets were Friday night and Saturday and Sunday morning/afternoon. The bigger deal meets (the ones we trained for) were Thursday night, Friday morning (prelims) and evening (finals), Saturday morning (prelims) and evening (finals) and Sunday morning (prelims) and evening (finals).
When you spend that much time in a wet swimsuit, you learn that the fastest, easiest way to pee without trying to get a wet suit back on is to just pull the crotch to one side, take care of business and then cover your lady bits back up. (Consider this my tip for the week.) (You're welcome.)
So when the Olympics start up at the end of July, you'll find me on my couch screaming at the TV just as if I was on the pool deck in London.