Selling Donuts to Buy an Endless Pool

Yesterday was my return to the pool following a week off to heal a small meniscal tear in my right knee. When we arrived at the pool, it was clear that chaos had overtaken the swimming pool. There were people EVERYWHERE. This initial observation was quickly confirmed as we walked by and the most helpful of the lifeguards said to us, "tight fit today ladies" and boy, she wasn't kidding! How do you even begin to decide which person has been there the longest? Who will give out first? Who can swim in a straight line? It took a few minutes but eventually we politely moved in to share a lane with a gentleman who had been swimming prior to our arrival once his lane buddy had had enough.

We began swimming, me with the pull buoy in tow, just as my doctor had advised. I noticed swimming with this gentleman (I'll call him "Freddie") that Freddie must not be a regular swimmer. Freddie continuously looked at his watch, which by all accounts and observations, was most likely the same watch he had worn to work with his suit and tie earlier in the day...you know the silver-stretch-banded watch like a Fossil or a faux expensive watch. Freddie frequently checked his time as he swam end-to-end and attempted various strokes lap after lap when the previous stroke seemed to fail for him. I noticed something else about Freddie...every time I would pass him at the dropoff to the deep end, Freddie would plant his feet down and propel himself forward to complete the length of the lane. This began to be somewhat annoying on my return beside him because during my stroke, out of nowhere I would be overtaken by a tsunami next to me as he lunged ahead. At one point, I also realized that Freddie was bringing out the Phelps and racing beside me as I had my pull buoy restraining my ability to kick. This, of course, forced me to reach farther, pull harder and glide longer. Perhaps I need him beside me every day I swim.

My guess, not that it matters in the big scheme of things, is that Freddie signed up for his first race most likely that day or perhaps the previous day. (You know how we always start a new plan on a Monday!) Freddie came to the pool that day determined to see if he could find a way to complete the distance in a reasonable amount of time that the race would require. Once he'd successfully completed this pre-determined distance "by whatever means necessary", Freddie exited the pool and was gone. .

I digress...I tell this story not to diss on Freddie who was swimming in the lane with us but as a reminder to myself of my first race that I signed up for...A friend and I signed up for the Susan G. Komen 5k race in Greenville, SC. Two nights before the race, we went to the local gym's indoor track and ran 80+ laps or so just to be sure that we could complete the race. It's funny how our mind works in the beginning. It's all about finishing...can we do it? Over time, however, you learn the importance of pacing, efficiency, planning, etc. This explains why my title today is "Selling Donuts to Buy an Endless Pool"...is it too much to ask to have a lane sometime that you don't have to share? Perhaps I will tag-team with Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts and target those who aren't interested in swimming whatsoever all for a good cause and would help me get my swimming in without the anxiety of chaos in the pool. :) Wonder how many donuts I'd have to sell to afford an endless pool?