I’m Going to Write 100 Essays

I’m going to write 100 essays just because I can. And I’m going to write them in 100 days, starting now. I don’t have 100 reasons why nor do I have 100 ideas for essays. I believe it will come to me. And I’m going to trust that.

An alcoholic first seeking a way out of his alcoholism will be told to attend 90 AA meetings in 90 days. This is a lot and it has to be daunting. I’ve never figured out if it’s a test of sincerity, like a rabbi making a prospective convert ask three times before he puts down the Torah long enough to talk to her, or the means by which the alcoholic becomes immersed in a new culture. The AA meeting is the new church for the man who worshipped double shots at the corner bar. I need to think more about that, maybe write about it, maybe write about my one and only visit to an Al-Anon meeting. Maybe write about drinking or praying or both.

The only way to become a better writer is to write more.

When I was twelve, my sister, who was six years older and a swimming teacher at the local high school, made me swim laps until I stopped a bad habit of dropping my left elbow into the water too soon on my freestyle stroke. I complained. Too far, I told her. I can’t keep swimming.

“Swimming’s like walking,” she said. “And people can walk forever. Keep swimming. When you keep that elbow up, you can get out of the water.”

So I approach this like swimming laps at my Master’s Swim Class. The coach announces the set — 75’s on the 2:20, 22 times — and I’m incredulous. I’m older by 25 years than everyone but my swimming partner and old friend, Karen. No one should expect me to keep up. I should have my own lane where no one does flip turns, there’s plenty of time to rest between 75’s, and no one is in too big a hurry. But there isn’t that choice.

So I swim. I struggle at first, always thinking about how far I have to go and finding new reasons to be tired. And then about midway through, I feel my whole body getting stronger. It’s easier, more fluid. I’m sleek and fast (if only in my own mind). I’m not tired. I am ready.

The swimming itself is making me a stronger swimmer.

So I begin.