Until yesterday, I had never given Holt much thought, and today, I guess I still don't. I had never had a bad experience in the ocean, never got lazy, but I did, for just a moment in a strong current, and I found myself further out than I thought. It wasn't until I dived deep into the water that I realised the strength and the distance and, as I made my way back, honestly struggling against the tide, I came as close to throwing up my hand for assistance as I had ever done so. I didn't, though: I made it back onto the beach, looking like shit, and collapsed where I lay in the sun thinking about how stupid I'd been, how complacent, and how, at thirty-four, I really, really did know better.
You've had that moment, though, right?