I've managed to keep up my swimming routine these past few weeks and think I've finally figured out the best days to go in order to have the pool to myself. I will now avoid Mondays, as it seems to be a popular day for the senior set. For the first half of my laps, I had a lane to myself. Then suddenly it was like a scene from "Cocoon." Three women in their 70s were in the lane next to me. As I turned around at the end of the lane, wondering if I could learn a flip turn in time to put it into practice before my belly gets in the way, I saw an octogenarian at the other end, waving to me. He wanted to share my lane. I looked over toward the sauna and spied two other men in their early 80s.I finished my lap, and stopped next to the elderly man in my lane. He said, "Do you mind sharing your lane?" I said, "No, not at all. I can just stay on this half, if that's alright." (Alternatively, if we swam at the same pace, we could swim in a circle formation, sort of following each other.) He said, "Oh, that would be fine. I just hop on one foot."
Huh?
I said, "Oh, okay, well, I'll just try to stay on this side," still not sure what he planned to do. Was he going to just hop in one spot? I started on another lap and on my way back discovered that he indeed hops on one foot all the way down the lane. Unfortunately, he was facing sideways rather than straight down the length of the pool. Equally unfortunate is the fact that I am not so skilled a swimmer that I can breath out of both sides. I put my head down, exhale, and when I come up for air I always come up on my left side. This, of course, meant I had to look right at him, hopping, when I swam past him. Every time.
After the first lap, I noticed he was waving over a white-haired lady friend of his, presumably to join him in our lane for some hopping.
Mercifully, before she could get in the pool, the young guy in the far lane finished when I had about three laps to go, so I let my lane friend know he had the lane to himself and ducked under the ropes.
Today, I had nearly the whole pool to myself. I actually felt bad for the teenage lifeguard because he had no one to monitor but me and my slow-and-steady crawl. I'm grateful that he's there, and I know he's being paid, but the lifeguards that work the indoor lap pool must have drawn the short straw.
On a separate note, I wondered while I was swimming what it feels like for the baby. Is it like being in the swimming pool on a cruise ship?
I laughed out loud, multiple times, at this post. The hopping part really got me. I wonder what type of exercise he's doing when he hops? And does he hop on alternate legs, or just one leg? Because you could really overdevelop one side of your body doing that.
ReplyDeleteI also liked how you kept breathing facing him. Of course that's how it would happen. Did you feel obligated to smile every time?