So. Much. Pool.
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWiMj76YbsBkIW2inEYSTbryJkm8deo65p-xOeXsXm-OL2HlVDaaClhzkxQN0v4Zg20Vdqk83AkFdNY0TtIFB6yjChg1hQRkls2bFGkQEFCB6VQ3XEpgaNjVLLGH8SjMSm3VyE71IE55Txexe8SgOowqyRVqe8wJ0wto_X_U44A1h8eZf0_u9irFD6A/s320/IMG_20220429_061756844_HDR.jpg)
Hello. My name is Angie, and I'm a pool swimmer. (((sobs into her goggles))) I miss the open water so much. I miss gliding unassisted through the water and feeling the pinpricks on my skin as the water creeps over my body as I begin a swim. I miss the way it feels when cold water hits my neck and my body heaves a sigh of relief. I want so badly to feel comfortable in the water, but I just don't. I'm not sure what's going on. Part of me is afraid that I'll move funny and tweak my shoulder or that I'll twist my head awkwardly when I breathe and strain my neck again. I swam at Broughton last Friday with fins and it felt fine, except I couldn't sight straight ahead. Every time I went to lift my head my neck cramped up. I ran into the shore for the first time in years. I used to pride myself on swimming in perfectly straight lines no matter where I was. Now, all I can do competently is chase a black line on the bottom of a pool. I keep reminding myself that I ca