Last Sunday morning as my bare feet slapped across the scorching pavement between the ladies’ locker room and the edge of the community pool, I spotted just one empty lane. I moved toward it quickly, claiming it as mine, then slid into the chilly water, shivered in anticipation, and dunked my head. The moment I rose I wiped the water from my face, strapped on my goggles, and took off toward the deep end -– to be swamped within seconds by the swim-capped middle-aged women on either side of me as they splashed past in unison.
Their wake left me floundering in a choppy sea, and by the end of lap one I had small craft warnings going off in my brain. Seizing any excuse for a break, I slogged back to the shallows and grabbed my water bottle, then watched in dread as my neighbors, clearly friends who had decided to work out together, executed time trials in tandem, arms and legs cutting through the water with perfect precision, churning up the water around them.
Drink over, I spent the next several minutes flailing between them, my velocity in the storm-tossed water approaching that of a half-squashed beetle. Meanwhile, the ladies pushed out lap after lap of Butterfly. If you’re not familiar with this awkward stroke, let me give you a little history: Despite what the link above claims, it was actually invented in the sixteenth century as a form of torture, and is now employed by swimming snobs and fully appreciated only by those who have mastered it. (For the record, the latter also applies to complex guitar solos and making pastry from scratch.)
The situation deteriorated around the eighth lap, when I helped myself to a flimsy kickboard for a few rounds. How is it possible to grab a sturdy, self-respecting kickboard actually capable of keeping my front half afloat any day except the very one when my ego -– and my ability to keep from asphyxiating on chlorine and water -– are most on the line? Even without the continuous shower from the ladies in the next lanes, the kicking would not have lasted long. At least with freestyle and breaststroke, I could spend most of my time with my head in the water, hiding my shame.
Around the fourteenth lap I began to take on water, and soon had a puddle the size of a baby pool sloshing inside my goggles. My arms, which have no respect for authority, began to tire despite my threats, and when I had thrashed once more to the deep end of the lane I clung to the wall and turned to decipher the clock on the side of the pool house through the foggy lenses. I nearly cheered. Three minutes to go.
Which is when the Wonder Twins decided they’d had enough of swimming and headed for the locker room. Now, if only I’d gotten everything else in line — the goggles, the kickboard, my arms — I would have had a very nice 180 seconds of swimming ahead of me.
At our local pool the kids jump right into your lane in front of you. I wear goggles, but sometimes I’m closing my eyes or day dreaming (okay, I’m always day dreaming) or not paying attention. Yes, there have been crashes. No major injuries though.
Another thing… low rider bathing suits… ew!
We have a new pool opening next week I’m going to check it out!
Probably the best way to avoid this in the future is to just go to the municipal pool at midnight, climb the fence, and enjoy the solitude of a beautiful, easy flat-water swim. Though, if you had tried this TODAY at midnight, you could just as easily have swum in your back yard. Some rain we had, eh?
I have a pool.This summer I’ve been in it once, and that was to clean it. (Sort of like parts of my house.)
I sure admire your stick-to-it attitude, not to mention that you don’t let a couple of Michael Phelps wannabes get your goat. (Do goats swim?)
Conda, THANK YOU!!! That makes me feel much better. 😉
Angela, that’s awful! I would be searching for a new pool, too. I hope the one that’s about to open is better.
Katie, I love that idea. If only getting arrested for trespassing didn’t sound so abhorrent — especially if they wouldn’t let me stop to change out of my bathing suit first!
Kath, I’ve heard a lot of people who have pools say that they never actually use them. Still, it seems easier than carting all my stuff down to the muni pool. Although I do often run into friends at the local pool, and that wouldn’t happen at my place unless I instituted an open swim time for everybody. Hey, that’s an idea…
I think anyone willing to take to the lap lanes at a pool is quite ambitious. However, I think individuals who splash through the water at gold metal speeds could exercise a bit of courtisy and seperate themselves from one another by several lanes so as not to cause rapids that overrun those around them.
Hope you managed to enjoy your last 180 seconds in a little more peace despite the water logged goggles and kickboard difficulties.
“and is now employed by swimming snobs and fully appreciated only by those who have mastered it. (For the record, the latter also applies to complex guitar solos and making pastry from scratch.)”
Not true. I’ve never made a pastry in my life, yet have fully appreciated every single one that I’ve consumed. Butterfly and complex guitar solos on the other hand…
Next time you end up sandwiched between the dolphin twins, you should just flail violently like you’re drowning every time they pass you. I bet the excess wake would make them leave sooner.
You are a braver soul than I am. I don’t get in the water unless I have my PFD secured snugly around my chest. Laps = Doggy Paddle. Thanks Dillon.
I totally agree, mountainink! The least they could have done was go side-by-side so that no one had to swim between them. And, yes, the remaining time was better, although by then I was exhausted!
Ah, Mike, but can you truly tell the difference between a perfect pastry made from scratch and one that’s not? As for me, I think I’ll buy my pie crusts for this Thanksgiving’s pumpkin pies. Though I do love the idea of making excess wake. Might have to try that one.
You go, Caryn! 🙂 That butterfly is tough.
I can swim for about 10 minutes, but never managed to get my arms, legs and face coordinated enough to do anything that involves my face going in the water without me drowning. I do the side stroke and hope that I make the other side of the pool. Hope. As to pie crust? I don’t care how I make it (or purchase it), if I have to bake it? It is soggy in the middle. I say go for cookies or box brownies or a frozen (defrosted) cheesecake. No point in making yourself crazy. 🙂
My doctor suggests swimming because my knees are a bit tricky, but I haven’t found somewhere to swim yet.
That having been said, I think I like swimming more as a spectator sport. Boys and their muscles and etc.
I’ll stick with archery and walking and hey… laughing at your entry had to burn SOME calories. 😉