My wife was a swimmer in school and on Saturday all the ladies in the area that swam on those teams gathered at their old swimming pool for a reunion. Most are married and have kids. Most were still in excellent shape. She talks about that team with affection, how they whipped most teams in the district and if it wasn’t for some weird coaching decisions the relay team was headed to states. While I haven’t met most of them before I knew almost all the names.

So we all swam at the pool and the girls talked to each other and all the kids played. At one point I saw the diving board and, realizing that I hadn’t done a swan dive in 25 years, decided to try one. It was sloppy — a 4.5 on the judges scale not including difficulty which probably would have dragged my score lower — but I did it.

Afterward it dawned on me how, as we get older, there are just certain things we don’t do any more. I haven’t dove in 25 years. Now I’m content to walk in the water or slide in off the side. There was a time I wouldn’t get in the water without diving. I don’t jump anymore, either. I watch my daughters, aged 6 and 4, skip. Don’t do that, although I’m not certain I ever did.

I don’t know when that happened but at some point those things just went out off fashion for me. And, for the most part, I don’t miss most of them. (Although having a little more hair on my head would suit me fine.)