The last few months have provided plenty of opportunities for me to relearn the things I’ve forgotten, like fifth-grade math, and seventh-grade science, and freshman English. My brain has been plenty stressed as the deepest recesses of it have been mined to try to remember how some of this stuff is done, but I keep telling myself that I’m warding off dementia by exercising these synapses. Who needs daily sudoku and crossword puzzles to stay sharp when you have to remember the order of operations for pre-algebra?

The other activity occupying most of my time is continuing the never-ending saga of home repairs and upgrades. I really haven’t had too much time for boredom over the past few months, and don’t foresee that I will for the next two or three decades, at the rate I’m going. But, I have watched with interest as many of my friends developed new hobbies.

Although I usually live vicariously through their travel pictures, there isn’t too much of that happening right now, so instead I see how their experimentations with sourdough bread and backyard brewing turn out. I’ve watched a few other friends who live in better climates than ours finally take the time to achieve their scuba certifications. One friend has provided some amazing underwater photography that has kept me entranced for days.

New pets have also come on board, and this is one trend that I’ve been able to contribute to wholeheartedly. As far as learning anything new, though, I feel like I’m just playing Ping-Pong with the toddler and the teenage years. I know how a dog should behave, and I know how, in theory, to get a dog to behave. I am not the one who is having issues with the learning curve in this relationship.

At any rate, it’s easy to feel stuck in a rut in the best of years, and this sure hasn’t been one of those. So, when an opportunity arose a few weeks ago to challenge myself to try something sort of new, I immediately thought about it for two or three weeks, then semi-committed to it for another week, then spent a week dithering over the paperwork, and finally, after all of that send off an email committing myself to the project. And, then I immediately regretted it.

It’s no secret that our winter sports seasons are one big giant question mark from week to week, or even day to day. Nonetheless, league officials have to prepare for just about every scenario. Since our youth program has been sidelined indefinitely, I have a little bit of free time in my schedule. One of my good friends, who happens to be a PIAA swimming official, realized that this would be the perfect time to suck me into the world of refereeing swim meets. Whether or not H and I will still be friends after this endeavor remains to be seen. (Just kidding, H, you’ve been stuck with me for 40 years. That’s unlikely to change anytime soon.)

Since I’ve been involved in swimming for decades, it does seem like this should not have been too much of a challenge. This also shouldn’t have been too difficult as I did take the test and was certified about 20 years ago. However, a lot has changed since then, and teaching the skill dynamics of the butterfly to be successful are a lot different from looking at a stroke from every angle to determine failure.

There are also a ton of tiny details that, as a coach, I just show up at the pool and assume are correct. Things like the distance between the starting block and the surface of the water, or the location of the fulcrum on the diving board. Things like time slips, which I usually just collect after they’ve been completed and reviewed by the officials. Things like unsportsmanlike conduct. I mean, I know it when I see it, don’t you?

Nope, it turns out that things like not being ready to swim when you’re summoned to the block, even for a split second or two, can cause a delay of meet, which may be considered unsportsmanlike! As a coach, it’s easier to teach the right way to do things than to point out 87 ways to do something poorly. As an official, you need to know the inside out of those 87 ways. It’s a little overwhelming.

The official manual is only 108 pages long. How bad could it be? It’s all neatly organized into sections, clearly labeled with headers. Each header has several articles underneath which clearly explain the rules. Then, however, each article has a sort of “what if” section following it, where hypothetical situations are laid out, and the correct rulings provided. Based on the addendums that were included, I have a feeling there is a room somewhere, full of swim officials playing a mad game of “what if.” There is stuff in there that I have never in a million years seen or heard of at a swim meet, and I’ve been to at least a million of them.

At long last, I was ready to take the test. A hundred problems in 120 minutes. I was suddenly starting to sweat. This felt an awful lot like the SATs. My inner nerd started to prepare. I allotted 1.2 minutes per each question. The online test thoughtfully provided a clock right at the top of the website. After I answered the first question, I looked at it. Three minutes had passed! That’s as much of that whole experience that I want to relive, so I’ll just end it with the fact that I passed, and with 13 minutes left on the clock.

I have a newfound respect for people who have been able to pick up a new skill these past few months. My whole experience has convinced me that I have enough other stress in my life, and I’m more than content to stay in my comfort zone for now. We’ll have plenty of time to explore new frontiers when life gets back to normal.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.