For anyone who swims laps at a shared pool there is usually one thought when setting foot on the pool deck: Please let there be an open lane. An open lane means you can swim at your own pace and do your own stroke. There is no risk of whacking someone when you careen off course during the backstroke, and you certainly won't kick anyone in the side during an overzealous breaststroke. Young swimmers don't have to worry about disrespectfully splashing past the older ones, and slow swimmers don't have to feel intimidated by the Phelps look-alike who has mastered flip turns and the butterfly. If there's an open lane.
But sometimes there isn't. In this case, swim buddies will often opt to 'circle' a lane which means swimming in tandem on the right side of the lane...down on the right, back on the right, thus forming a circle... This works well for swimmers of similar speeds who know each other. For the buddy-less, one must assess the situation, sizing up lane occupants to determine who might be the best to split a lane. (Splitting is when two swimmers stick to their own sides of the lane.)
Recently I was the buddy-less swimmer facing a pool without an empty lane. Lanes 1 and 2 were out. The former had children and swim instructors, and the latter had two men already splitting the lane. Lane 6, which for whatever reason is my preferred lane, had a jogger. She was sticking to one side of the lane, but I just didn't think it was fair to subject her to my splashing. That left three lanes. In Lane 5, we had what I will call 'the haphazard swimmer.' Like all of my athletic pursuits, I am average at best. I am not particularly fast or graceful, but I pray I do not fall into the 'haphazard' swimmer category. The haphazard swimmer does not believe in the vertical line of swimming. Or even if he does, his arms and legs do not obey. Sharing a lane with a haphazard swimmer is more likely to result in a blow to the head or a swift kick to the ribs. So don't go there if you don't have to.
In Lane 3, there was an older gentleman who was swimming down the center of the lane. I just didn't want to bother him. The best candidate was in Lane 4. I had split a lane with him before, for only a few minutes before there was an opening. He is a fast, fluid swimmer that is considerate when sharing a lane. The only problem? He can swim for yards and yards without stopping. Some swimmers will just get into the lane, but I like to wait until the person comes up for a rest, then ask permission to share. It's just the polite thing to do, I think. But he just kept flipping and flipping and flipping. I gave up and asked the guy in Lane 3 if we could split. As I mentioned, he was older and possibly hard of hearing out of the pool. So I had to practically scream at his waterclogged ears, "Can we split the lane?" He finally replied, "I'm leaving in a few minutes." Ummm...so was that a yes or a no? Off he went, and I wasn't sure if he would think I was rude for not waiting until he finished or if he hadn't really heard what I said. I turned back to Lane 4...here he comes...and...flip! Damn. I was about to ambush the jogger when Lane 3 returned, and said, "Well you can get in. No sense sitting there." So we split for a few minutes, until he headed off to the locker room. And I was free to do a haphazard backstroke down Lane 3.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Back on the Blogging Wagon
Well I really fell off the blogging wagon for a while. I think you're starting to get the idea of what happens when I try to keep a journal. But with a journal, there's zero accountability...who knows if I actually write or not? Here, anyone can see how bad I am about regularly writing for fun. I'm reading a memoir by a guy who's a novelist and a runner. And he admits that he has never been good about keeping a journal (about life) but is steady about keeping a running journal. Well amen to that because I feel the same way. Last spring I bought a runner's journal. Up until mid-December I was really good about recording workouts, whether running, swimming, strength training, or what-have-you. I don't know what it is about daily life that keeps me from writing, but I look at the times when I have kept a journal (a semester abroad in Australia), and I really enjoy looking back at my thoughts.
Perhaps I've been an intermittent blogger because I don't have a focus. This isn't a blog about fixing cars or reducing the fat content in America's favorite comfort foods. It's Seinfeld-ian in a way...it's a blog about nothing. I can only hope to be half as entertaining.
Now that that's off my chest, here are a couple of thoughts about the holidays:
You know that program "One Laptop Per Child" which strives to provide a laptop for all children in developing countries? I have a new proposal -- the "One Portable DVD Player Per Child" initiative. All parents on long road trips should seriously consider this for the sake of sanity. After a few antsy trips to and from New Jersey, we finally bit the Best Buy bullet and bought a portable DVD player for our son. Hallelujah. Not a peep out of him on either leg of the trip. He watched DVDs for about an hour or so on the way to NJ and for about three hours on the way back. Not only did it keep him quiet but he now can't stand to watch TV for more than 30 minutes at a time. He used to watch an hour of "Curious George" from 5 to 6 p.m. while I made dinner, but since the trip he promptly shuts it off at 5:30, declaring, "I'm tired of watching George." I guess I better dust off the 30-Minute Meals cookbook.
Speaking of meals, I love how the holidays revolve around food. I mean, I want to throw up at the thought of a Christmas cookie right now, but while you're in the thick of it, the feasting isn't so bad. Part of the feasting, at least in my family, has always involved the holiday box of chocolates. And I don't mean the Godiva ballotin...I'm talking about the Russell Stover rectangular trough with the candy diagram on the inside of the lid. Year after year, the box is passed, and everyone tries to figure out if the candy is still in the same position as the diagram. Because once you remove an empty wrapper, you've pretty much ruined the diagram's integrity. You don't know what's where. Coconuts are now where the cremes used to be, and a caramel has slid over to the walnut section. It's a complete disaster. But anyway, you do your best to find what you're looking for -- albeit the lumpy tops of the nut clusters are a dead giveaway -- yet it's inevitable that you bite into a strawberry creme when you were hoping for a mocha truffle. But you know you're among family when the person next to you says, "Ooh! Strawberry creme! Are you going to finish that?" and takes the other half so you can guiltlessly troll for that truffle.
Perhaps I've been an intermittent blogger because I don't have a focus. This isn't a blog about fixing cars or reducing the fat content in America's favorite comfort foods. It's Seinfeld-ian in a way...it's a blog about nothing. I can only hope to be half as entertaining.
Now that that's off my chest, here are a couple of thoughts about the holidays:
You know that program "One Laptop Per Child" which strives to provide a laptop for all children in developing countries? I have a new proposal -- the "One Portable DVD Player Per Child" initiative. All parents on long road trips should seriously consider this for the sake of sanity. After a few antsy trips to and from New Jersey, we finally bit the Best Buy bullet and bought a portable DVD player for our son. Hallelujah. Not a peep out of him on either leg of the trip. He watched DVDs for about an hour or so on the way to NJ and for about three hours on the way back. Not only did it keep him quiet but he now can't stand to watch TV for more than 30 minutes at a time. He used to watch an hour of "Curious George" from 5 to 6 p.m. while I made dinner, but since the trip he promptly shuts it off at 5:30, declaring, "I'm tired of watching George." I guess I better dust off the 30-Minute Meals cookbook.
Speaking of meals, I love how the holidays revolve around food. I mean, I want to throw up at the thought of a Christmas cookie right now, but while you're in the thick of it, the feasting isn't so bad. Part of the feasting, at least in my family, has always involved the holiday box of chocolates. And I don't mean the Godiva ballotin...I'm talking about the Russell Stover rectangular trough with the candy diagram on the inside of the lid. Year after year, the box is passed, and everyone tries to figure out if the candy is still in the same position as the diagram. Because once you remove an empty wrapper, you've pretty much ruined the diagram's integrity. You don't know what's where. Coconuts are now where the cremes used to be, and a caramel has slid over to the walnut section. It's a complete disaster. But anyway, you do your best to find what you're looking for -- albeit the lumpy tops of the nut clusters are a dead giveaway -- yet it's inevitable that you bite into a strawberry creme when you were hoping for a mocha truffle. But you know you're among family when the person next to you says, "Ooh! Strawberry creme! Are you going to finish that?" and takes the other half so you can guiltlessly troll for that truffle.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)