I was browsing around online today, and I found a friend's blog. He's a swimmer on my team, and he's from Switzerland. And, boy! Can he write or what?
Excerpt:
"At a groggy 5:20 in the morning, I force my sleep-deprived body to the pool and dive into the icy water. A swimming pool, no matter what season of the year, is always icy at 5:20 in the morning. And we wonder why swimming is not a commercial sport. It is a sport that you do because you love to do it. There is no other way. There are days when even commitment and dedication fail and a pure love is all that pushes you to jump in once again. The sole satisfaction gained is either success or enjoyment of pain. The majority of swimmers are driven by both. Why else would somebody push his torn body through an element that is not a human domain?And then there is the smell. Swimmers smell. We smell like chlorine, constantly. Au de chlorine. It is not comparable to the fresh summer afternoon by the city pool, no, it’s as if it has been has injected chlorine into you...."
If you're still paying attention, the entire story is here: Marco's Blog (the story is at the very bottom: October 11, "Spartans in Bangkok."
3 comments:
I like Marco. He was easy to remember, what with his beard and a name that will forever be followed by POLO!
Great comment miss brit.
MARCO POLO
where are you?
Did you hear about the cops who chased some guys into a big wherehouse type thing, and the cop yelled out "Marco" and the suspect replied "Polo."
True story.
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