I once stabbed a waiter with a fork.

Yes, you read that correctly.

My family always went out to eat after Friday practice. On this particular night, I had already eaten most of my meal—salad, rolls, a loaded baked potato, and a 14-ounce prime rib (my go-to order back then). I only had about four bites left on my plate, but everyone else had already finished eating.

That, of course, was my cue to start working on everyone else's leftovers.

Unfortunately, the waiter assumed I was finished with my own plate since I was busy eating off everyone else's. As he reached over to take it away, my swimmer survival instincts kicked in. Out of a desperate need to refuel, I instinctively stabbed his hand with my fork.

I immediately realized what I had done, pulled my fork back, and apologized—with a mouth full of food.

My mom just laughed and said, "Sorry... she's a swimmer."

To this day, it's still one of my family's favorite stories. And honestly, it perfectly sums up the appetite of a competitive swimmer. 🍽️🏊💙