Facing Disappointment

I competed in the first swim meet (of a sort) that I've done since I was about eight.  Being in my mid-forties, let's just say it's been awhile.

It's called a Postal Swim because you aren't swimming at a specific location, but doing the swim while being observed and then sending in your results. Used to be via mail -- hence "post" but these days the results are submitted electronically like everything else.

I got an email with the preliminary results today.  I knew I wasn't really all that fast, but I am going to have to admit my heart sank when I looked at the results.

Out of 166 competitors in my sex and age group, I was 158.  The top performers in my category were more than twice as fast as I am.

*sighs*  Okay, so I wasn't last.  And I know I was competing with people who'd had a more serious competitive background than just a few summers in grammar school.  Or that had been swimming seriously and consistently for more than a six month period, for that matter!

But that's still damned disappointing.  I knew I was slow, but I hadn't had it really spelled out to me how painfully slow I really am.   It even makes me wonder if I have any business attempting the open water stuff,

'Cept, I'm going to anyway and am going to continue training for it until I'm barred from events or something. Then it's probably just going to be on my own and friends with boats pacing me...