Other times, I’m my old clumsy self, which was the case last night. My superpower was swimming. My stroke? The dog-paddle. You see, I don’t know how to swim. My parents were big believers in floaties and holding ones nose. When I went to college I took a swimming class because I figured a degree wouldn’t do me much good if I drown. So I know the basics, but I’ve not the strength, the endurance, or the athletic ability to swim so much as a lap. I can, however, float on my back. So, in real life, I either float on my back or dog paddle.
When I dream, however, my dog paddle is so strong and so proficient that even Michael Phelps wouldn’t be able to keep up. When I say I book-it through the water, I mean I book-it through the water. Head up at all times (so I can breathe and don’t need to hold my nose), and arms swooping down like a dog’s. I wish you could have seen me. It was glorious the way I sailed through the water. I traveled about thirty yards with each stroke and with hardly any effort at all. Sooooooo fun.
In last night’s case, I had teamed up with Tony Stark (aka Iron Man). We were saving the world from some evil mechanical Santa Clauses. That’s all I remember about the plot other than it was a life threatening thing and we were the world’s last hope. You’d think that teaming up with Robert Downing, Jr. would be the thing that stuck out the most. But no, when I awoke it was to the thrill that I had swam with supersonic speed and ability.