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.
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Ilana said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 6:26 am
I never did get the butterfly… it is an evil stroke. I think my 7-year old pulls it off better than me.
Your post is timely. Next week my youngest starts pre-K and I have vowed to put my butt in the pool after drop off. If it makes you feel any better, I also resort to a kickboard when tired (and I’m going to need them as I make this attempt at getting in shape).
Joanne Rendell said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 7:07 am
Phelps would be very proud of your efforts. Go you! By the way, I haven’t swum laps in a pool since I was about 12. I admire you.
Robin said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 8:16 am
You lasted a lot longer than I would have! I love the pool. Swimming for exercise? Not so much. Give me a raft and a good book and I’m a happy camper. I may muster the strength for a few somersaults and swims underwater, and I enjoy a game of Marco Polo. But laps? I’ll leave those to you.
Have a great holiday weekend!
Shannon said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 9:16 am
…fully appreciated only by those who have mastered it.
Not true! I’m a total doof on butterfly, but love watching someone who’s good at it.
Whenever I’m next to someone who’s more hardcore than me, I sit on the bottom of my lane for a moment and watch their form. It’s helped me a lot!
Here’s to Ladies Who Lap. Congrats on your determination to survive their wakes
Erin said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 9:24 am
The Butterfly is one of the most retarded swimming skills in the world. Breaststroke or back stroke anyday.
But cheer up, maybe they’re just practicing for the next Olympics.
Marilyn Brant said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 10:52 am
You mean, people besides Olympians actually DO the Butterfly? Huh…
Hey, I’m impressed you were even IN the pool. I spent most of the summer sitting on a lounge chair nearby and catching up on my library-book reading while my son splashed around. You’re Aquawoman in my book
.
alyson noel said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 10:53 am
I’m the girl floating on the raft . . .no butterfly stroke for me!
emily said,
Friday, August 29, 2008 at 5:24 pm
i read something wrong and spent half the entry thinking these wundertwins were in YOUR lane. like, sharing it. and once i got to the part about the butterfly, i’m thinking – how can three people fit in a lane if 2 of them are doing butterfly?
lol. i’m also a bit jealous you were swimming – i miss it!
Caryn Caldwell said,
Saturday, August 30, 2008 at 9:43 am
Good luck with the swimming, Ilana! It’s a wonderful sport — low impact and a great cardio workout.
Joanne, I couldn’t help but think of Phelps, too! Wonder if he ever got humiliated in the pool? Nah. I think he was born swimming well.
Robin, that sounds like fun. I like to sit in the pool sometimes and read, letting the water keep me cool in the summers. Too bad just doing that doesn’t burn the calories I need to burn!
LOL, Erin! I like backstroke, too, but our pool doesn’t always have the flags up so when I’m in a middle lane I can’t tell how close to the wall I am. When they have the flags up, though, or I’m on an end lane, I love it.
Shannon, just watching people do butterfly makes me cringe in pain, probably because I was on the swim team and had to do it sometimes, and boy did it hurt! I have respect for people who do it, but I will never understand doing it for fun. Maybe…just because they can? Oh, and I’m totally with you on sitting underwater and watching people to improve your stokes. Ever have someone videotape you so you know what you look like swimming? That helps, too.
Yeah, Marilyn. Who knew? I tried it a few times for fun, and it never took.
Alyson, that has its benefits as well. For one thing, it’s a whole lot more fun.
Actually, Emily, they were, sort of. Sometimes when the pool is crowded they take out the lane lines in order to create more space. So we were in three lanes but without the lane lines. I didn’t want to go into all that detail, though, since the post was already long enough (I seem to be incapable of writing a short post!) so I tried to keep it simple. Sorry for the confusion.
Conda V. Douglas said,
Saturday, August 30, 2008 at 6:09 pm
Couldn’t agree more with you, Caryn–I despise the butterfly, despite loving to swim and also being a fitness instructor! In my worst moments, I suspect the butterfly may be bad for the rotator cuff–or at least that’s my reason for never doing it!
Angela Cerito said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 7:58 am
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!
Katie said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 9:14 am
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?
Kath Calarco said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 9:29 am
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?)
Caryn Caldwell said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 9:40 am
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…
mountainink said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 2:35 pm
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.
Mike said,
Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 2:47 pm
“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.
Caryn Caldwell said,
Monday, September 1, 2008 at 9:20 am
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.
Keri Mikulski said,
Monday, September 1, 2008 at 4:41 pm
You go, Caryn!
That butterfly is tough.
Mizzz K said,
Monday, September 1, 2008 at 10:07 pm
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.
Amanda said,
Tuesday, September 2, 2008 at 1:20 pm
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.
Mike said,
Wednesday, September 10, 2008 at 7:46 pm
“Ah, Mike, but can you truly tell the difference between a perfect pastry made from scratch and one that’s not?”
Ahem…. One word. Thurn’s
Kyle said,
Monday, September 15, 2008 at 11:08 am
LOL… You didn’t go all Michael Phelps on them?
Do you have to sign up for time slots to swim? Or was the last three minutes your own deadline? If you have to sign up… did you think to check their names so you don’t have to swim with them again?!
And, I could care less how you make your pie. Just as long as it tastes good. Most people don’t have the time or patience for “from scratch”… I just take what’s given to me!