So twice a week every week since October I have been going to the municipal pool to workout at lunch during the “Adult Lane Swim”. The typical crowd is your basic geriatric and Jenny Craig crowd. I am the only one who remotely resembles a swimmer <stress “remotely”>. So the pool is set up with “Slow”, Medium”, Fast”, and “Recreational” lanes. Most, if not all, of the people there are apparently illiterate or do not understand the meaning of these signs. For months I have endured the fat women with kickboards, the blind guy who uses lane markers as a boundary to bounce off, and the various octogenarians who think they are Ian Thorpe. <<BTW – “The Thorpedo” is one of the greatest sports nicknames ever.>> I have never asked anybody to move lanes or to get out of my way. I just deal with it.
So today is like any other day except for the fact that two absolutely amazing hardbody women come into the fast lane with Victoria’s Secret issue bikinis. They cannot swim worth a damn but who really cares? For a change I do not have to endure the Sea World dance of the whales during my swim. Now, I’m no dirty old man (well, not yet, I still have some amateur years of eligibility left before I go pro) but I am quite liking this new sight. So what happens? The 200-year old man in the lane with me ASKS THEM TO LEAVE and they do. As they disappear into the locker room I turn to Methuselah and ask him if he really needed to do that. I got no response as he dog paddled away on his kickboard.
I am left thinking to myself – “Somedays life just sucks.”
Remember the debate about carrying a gun while riding? Maybe there should be a debate about carying a gun at the pool, so that one might blow Methuselah away should such a thing occur again.
There is nothing better than to have some hottie get in the lane next door. I think that is the reason I got into swimming years ago in high school. I was a lowly sophmore when we had a senior girl who was a runner up Junior Miss California. She was drop dead beautiful and pretty nice. Every time us young spuds went by you would think our heads were spring loaded. Of course you had to think death and taxes to avoid embarassment
Oh yeah? Be glad you can even get into the pool. My remarkably shitty 24Hour Fitness has 3, count 'em, 3 lanes. One usually contains a large woman who will walk to the far end of the pool, stop for a few minutes and then walk back. Another usually contains an old man with a snorkel and/or fins. That leaves a total of one lane for potentially useful swimming. I’ve taken to going before work (7 a.m.) to try to get some time without sharing a lane. A good swim is one where I don’t have to split the lane the entire time.
And don’t get me started on the parking. The parking lot would get full after work, so what did they do? They got valet parking and took up two of the 6 rows of parking. Brilliant.
I would have kicked that guy out of the lane as soon as he started going again.
I have the great luxery of swimming at the Mary T. Meagher Aquatic center. A whole bunch of lanes (10 or something, I can’t remember), 50 meters, equipment supplied, etc. Very nice!
On the subject of nicknames The Thorpedo is good, but it’s not “The Chicoutimi Cucumber.” Georges Vezina, great goaltender from Chicoutimi, Quebec, Canada. I always loved that one!
I am pretty sure that if you held the rat bastard under using his kickboard you would not leave any marks. 'Course you need to keep an eye out for cameras and such.
If it makes you feel any better, we occasionally lose a few lanes to a kids syncro class. I recently did my morning thing while Elmer Fudd sings “Fawwing in wuv wiiif you” played repeatedly over their submerged speaker.
If it makes you feel any better, we occasionally lose a few lanes to a kids syncro class. I recently did my morning thing while Elmer Fudd sings “Fawwing in wuv wiiif you” played repeatedly over their submerged speaker.
