I joined the new YMCA in Koreatown and went swimming today for the first time in years and years and years. Swimming is, apparently, just like riding a bicycle because when I slipped into the water and took off free-styling, I felt weightless and smooth and each breath each stroke was the millionth one I'd taken and made, effortless. When I climbed out, I was as limp and weak as a cooked noodle, the mostly elderly and impassive Korean men and women nodding pleasantly at me as I made my shaky way back to the locker room. It will be good to be anonymous at the Koreatown YMCA, a big pink-goggled white woman noodle in an Asian sea. It's what I love best about living in an urban area -- that unique ability to be surrounded by humanity and still feel utterly alone.
