The Electrician has decided he will swim laps every second day. I say, “Go sweetie!” because a healthy Electrician means a longer future with my beloved. Also, swimming is rather like eating garlic: if both parties partake, then neither notices the smell. I swim at least four times a week right now, so I’m pleased my sweetie will join me in the water.
Tonight we decided to go for a swim at the nearest pool, partly because it’s so close and partly because The Electrician thought the swim pass he carries for his own town was accepted there. I find this pool intimidating. I’d never had a swim there before tonight because it’s the equivalent of an Olympic pool in size, depth, and big scary diving platforms. Being with my fiance makes me braver, so off we went, towels under our arms and looks of grim determination on our faces.
I had a rough time in the 50 metre pool tonight. Somehow, I managed to carry on through my whole regular workout, but swimming twice as far for each lap was exhausting. I don’t mean my total distance was doubled, just that I had to swim longer than I’m used to to find an end wall. Other swimmers have mentioned how cold the “serious” pool is, and I just imagined it was slightly cooler than the regular community facilities. I stand corrected. A full 200 metres fell away under my flutterkick before I was at a comfortable temperature tonight. To add to all the shivering and the extra work swimming the long pool seemed to be, this entire giant pool is one big deep end. Nowhere in its vast expanses can a person touch the bottom.
There I was, fighting my way along in a very deep, very chilly, and very long pool. It was a mental workout as much as anything, particularly because I spent so much of each length a scary distance from the wall. While I have no fear of the water per se, I’m quite claustrophobic and the thought of all the water swallowing me up is a bit unsettling. Even though I don’t doubt my strength in the pool, it made me nervy to be small in the middle of something so big. I usually pause for five deep breaths at the end of every hundred metres before I continue. The timing always adds up to me standing in the shallow end every few minutes, and it was strange and uncomfortable in a pool where I had to just hang from the wall by one tired arm in my mini breaks.
As much as I respected the Olympians before tonight, my proverbial hat is off to those folks who train in the scary pool every day. I think I’ll be headed back to my nice, warm, little salinated community facility, where the lap pool is up to my collarbone the entire 25 metres.
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