I was back in the pool today after a two-week, schedule-driven hiatus. I had limited time, so my plan was to get 2/3 of a mile in, using as close to 30 minutes as possible.
When I got to the pool, there was already someone in there. A young man, swimming in a very enthusiastic, but discombobulated way.
He'd go like hell for a couple of laps, then stop and catch his breath for a while, then go like hell again. Sometimes it was freestyle, sometimes it was a weird mostly underwater version of the breaststroke.
Me? I was in my normal routine. The first two lengths are fast, with very few breaths taken, because I'm not tired yet. On the next four lengths, I breathe with every other pull of my right arm. The next four, I am breathing on every pull of my right arm ... because I'm tired and gasping for air. With the first 10 lengths complete, I settle into a new pattern. Breathing every second pull on the way down and breathing on every pull on the way back. After about 30 total lengths, I get into a rhythm where I can stop breathing on every right pull, switching back to every other. I usually keep that up until whatever is my big finish. If I'm doing 100 lengths, the big finish is the final 20, for instance. And I go as fast and as hard as I can for as long as I can.
It's not scientific. I didn't research anything. It's just what I do. I change it up when it becomes "doable." I make it a little harder somehow.
At a turnaround near lap 30, I heard weird swimmer dude talking to me. So I stopped and stood up.
"I'm new to swimming. What is the right way to breathe?" he asked.
"I have no idea," I replied. "I am no expert. Right now I'm breathing every other stroke one way and every stroke the other way. I just try to stay consistent."
"Well, it sure looks like you know what you're doing," he said.
Ha! I chose to bask in the glow of this almost compliment, knowing full well I'm always the slowest one in the pool.
We both started swimming again.
The pool filled up. A rainy day might cause that? And as the lanes got crowded, I noticed that he got out of the pool. Shortly afterward, I, too, finished up my laps and climbed out.
And ... my towel was gone. Along with my YMCA photo ID. Weird swimmer dude must have grabbed it accidentally. I had to borrow a towel from the lifeguards and get them to let me back in the locker room.
All I can think about? Weird swimmer dude now knows my name. And he has my photo. (And my crappy blue towel ... which I'm not so worried about.)
This freaks me out a little. I'm thoroughly convinced he's going to stalk me and kill me because he's pissed off that I can swim faster than him.
That's irrational, right?
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