Over break, we rested, relaxed, watched Netflix, ate too many sugar cookies, napped, spent time with family, slept. But we also remembered some of the things we used to do, the things that used to be normal, regular parts of our lives before college. It's different for everyone -- a sport, a hobby, a habit, a dwelling place -- but it's something we used to love and do most every day, yet no longer seem to have the time for.

For example, I finally got back into the pool, prompted by an old dear friend. Both former swimmers, we returned to the place we’d trained for years, cap and goggles clutched in hand. We wore one pieces and warily approached the edge of the pool, dreading the water that was always just a tad too cold when you got in.   

But we did, and it was glorious.   

Pulling my body through the water, I remembered the simple clearmindedness of stroke after stroke -- the power in a flip turn, pushing off the wall in a tight streamline, water flowing past my ears from a strong butterfly kick. I remembered the weary but satisfied feeling of exhausted muscles following a good, hard work out. I remembered winters as a kid, running carefully over frozen sidewalks to my dad’s car picking me up after swim practice, hair freezing into instant icicles from frigid weather. I remembered the smell of chlorine, the permanent perfume that clung to my skin for days in spite of long, steaming hot showers and special swimmers’ shampoos.   

I know it isn’t realistic to relive or pursue all those old experiences, but in remembering them I realized that the only old activity I still consistently do and really love to do, is write. There are so many parts of my past that have been left behind, usurped by "more pressing" responsibilities. It’s true that we cannot do everything we once did, but it’s sad to see those parts of ourselves go and fall by the way side.   

I miss swimming: the anxious flutters before a meet, the events written in black permanent marker on your arm, the crazed feeling of adrenaline flowing through you when you pound the wall at the finish and look up to check your time. I miss the cheesy team cheers, talking to Coach after your race, the satisfaction of shaving a tenth of a second off your personal best.

I think it’s important to remember those moments, to think about our pasts and all those experiences we've had. I know I can’t swim every day on a team like I used to, or dedicate every afternoon to a novel because it's just such a good story, or sing harmonies with my childhood BFF on the backyard hammock, or perform in a play, or any of the other things I used to love to do growing up. Now, we must pick and choose -- prioritize our commitments. But we might remember them; we might do those good times the honor and recall the details we've forgotten. And perhaps as a result, now I might go for a swim once a week, set aside a Saturday for just me and the newest Meg Cabot chick lit, take the time to pick up painting or songwriting or the guitar again. By remembering, we might all bring back something important we’ve loved yet forgotten. 

All those little moments from our past make us who we are. Maybe there’s a love you’ve lost along the way, and maybe it still means an awful lot to you. Maybe it's time to find it again.