Several of my friends who had babies in the last year told me that they swam to remedy their backaches. I’ve had trouble with my lower back (just on the right side) since four-and-a-half months into my pregnancy—I have a massage therapist who is GREAT, I try to walk at least 15 minutes every day with my dog, and I do yoga once a week. All of these things help, but swimming sounded delightful. So last weekend, I got online and tried to look for a cheap maternity bathing suit. I refused to spend a lot of money on this, but at the same time, I didn’t want to feel ridiculous in the thing. Thankfully, I found one. Gotta love online shopping. It arrived at my doorstep within four days, and it fit, and I didn’t look totally stupid.
So now, I had to go swim. I bought the gear, so to justify the cost I actually had to do the deed – at least three or four times.
Finding a pool was a no-brainer. I work right next to one. I got the schedule and within three days from getting the swimsuit, I packed my bag and I was off to the pool. I was pretty proud of myself. I usually put things like this off for at least a month or two, but this time, from the time I made the decision to do it and the actual event was a matter of two weeks.
Now, while I am a decent swimmer and enjoy swimming when I do it, I was never a competitive swimmer nor have I ever really done lap swimming (or belonged to a gym), so this whole thing was new to me. I paid at the front desk and asked for any rules and regulations I should know about and I proceeded to the locker room.
You have to understand the population here. For anyone unfamiliar with Mercer Island, it’s one of the more desirable neighborhoods in the greater Seattle area. It’s only about six miles from downtown, but it’s an island, so you are right on the water (or really close to it) and it gives you the illusion that you are living in wilderness. There are mostly families and a lot of retired senior citizen types. The emphasis here is on the senior citizens.
Because it’s most convenient for me to go swimming in the late morning, I am at the pool when the average age of all the other swimmers is 68. Automatically, I am the youngest and prettiest one there. I want to say the fastest also, but sadly that is untrue, for there are some hardcore lap swimming grandpas who are kicking my ass.
Anyway, I want you all to picture the locker room with these demographics. Three words. Naked. Old. Ladies. They love to chat; while they are getting ready to go in or out of the pool, while they shower (in the showers that are wide open), and while they go to the toilet (which are not wide open, thank you very much). I grew up in a culture where there are public baths. The only modesty around baths in Japan is that you are separated by gender, but outside of that, when you go on a school trip, you take a bath with your classmates in a GIANT bath set up. If you go to hot springs, it’s the same thing. You get naked with strangers (and your friends and family) and you get in it. I was also a dancer for years. Dancers have no problem getting naked in front of each other. But I must say, I’ve never quite encountered this many bodies that are above the age of 60 all at once. And the difference here is I AM PREGNANT. I have to say, I’ve not been naked in front of strangers with a big stomach ever. So needless to say, I felt a bit awkward.
10 minutes later, I was by the pool. I had to take my glasses off but I could sort of make out that the slow lane was open. I submerged myself in the water, which was at a perfect temperature and pushed off. It was glorious. The silence of water was calming and my body felt lighter. Ooooooooh. Ahhhhhhh. I did a lap doing the breast stroke and then flipped to my back. Even better. I wondered, as I slowly swam the lap staring at the ceiling of the pool and the flags, what this must feel like to Flippy. Or, rather, is this similar to how Flippy is existing at the moment? Swoosh. Swoosh.
Then I started to notice more of my surroundings. First of all, there was a lady in my lane. Not in a way that you’d expect doing lap swimming. More in a way that she was just hanging out in one spot of the lane. I noticed her after I passed her for the third time and realized that she hadn’t moved. Is this what they are referring to when they say the slow lane? Should I move one lane over? The thing that killed me about this Esther Williams was that she was sporting a shower cap. Not a swim cap, but a clear shower cap-like the kind you find in a hotel room. I guess she doesn’t want her shampoo-set messed up. Then I started to hear this blaring music with very heavy base line. It was the water aerobics class set to the tune of “ I Want It That Way” by The Back Street Boys. The instructor looked about 25, and her students were once again, about 70. I giggled, but then felt bad for this musical choice. The rest of my swim was accompanied by every other word of Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears songs because it went silent every time I went under water. What’s more annoying than that?
I finished my swim, headed back to the locker room, rinsed off (with my suit on), washed my hair, got dressed and left. My body felt good. It was an adventure.
I went back three days later and this time it was a Michael Jackson medley. As I entered, “The Man in The Mirror” was blasting, followed by “Thriller” (really?????) then “Beat It.” Oh Michael…this was back when you had a face and we all took you seriously. Swoosh. Swoosh. What’s great about this class is that it’s accompanied by shrill instructions that echo so much no one can make them out. I finished and headed to the locker room. There was a lady getting dressed when I got back who said, “Did you just do lap swim?” “Yeah,” I said. “That’s the way to do it,” she said, “I can’t STAND that aerobics class.” I giggled to myself and said, “Yeah…I don’t really care for that myself.” Then she went on to say, “It’s just too much jumping around, it’s awful!! I think I get more exercise out of it by just swimming.” “I’m with you on that.” I replied. Then she gathered her stuff and said, “Well, I better get out of here before that mob from the class comes in here.” And she took off. Minutes later, the “mob” consisting of 4 or 5 ladies waddling slowly came in, getting naked and chatting away about their sons in Arizona and how cold it got at the pool when we had a wind storm and lost heat. This is a mob all right. I thought, hey, if you are in your 70s and have this much energy to come to the community pool regularly even when they don’t have power, good for you. I hope I’m that well at that age.
Two days later, I have a cold. A nasty head cold. I’ve been doing well and even got a flu shot, but no, I think this pool gave me a cold. Pathetically, I may have to take a week off from swimming, but I shall return. I get a kick out of people there. And the music.
So now, I had to go swim. I bought the gear, so to justify the cost I actually had to do the deed – at least three or four times.
Finding a pool was a no-brainer. I work right next to one. I got the schedule and within three days from getting the swimsuit, I packed my bag and I was off to the pool. I was pretty proud of myself. I usually put things like this off for at least a month or two, but this time, from the time I made the decision to do it and the actual event was a matter of two weeks.
Now, while I am a decent swimmer and enjoy swimming when I do it, I was never a competitive swimmer nor have I ever really done lap swimming (or belonged to a gym), so this whole thing was new to me. I paid at the front desk and asked for any rules and regulations I should know about and I proceeded to the locker room.
You have to understand the population here. For anyone unfamiliar with Mercer Island, it’s one of the more desirable neighborhoods in the greater Seattle area. It’s only about six miles from downtown, but it’s an island, so you are right on the water (or really close to it) and it gives you the illusion that you are living in wilderness. There are mostly families and a lot of retired senior citizen types. The emphasis here is on the senior citizens.
Because it’s most convenient for me to go swimming in the late morning, I am at the pool when the average age of all the other swimmers is 68. Automatically, I am the youngest and prettiest one there. I want to say the fastest also, but sadly that is untrue, for there are some hardcore lap swimming grandpas who are kicking my ass.
Anyway, I want you all to picture the locker room with these demographics. Three words. Naked. Old. Ladies. They love to chat; while they are getting ready to go in or out of the pool, while they shower (in the showers that are wide open), and while they go to the toilet (which are not wide open, thank you very much). I grew up in a culture where there are public baths. The only modesty around baths in Japan is that you are separated by gender, but outside of that, when you go on a school trip, you take a bath with your classmates in a GIANT bath set up. If you go to hot springs, it’s the same thing. You get naked with strangers (and your friends and family) and you get in it. I was also a dancer for years. Dancers have no problem getting naked in front of each other. But I must say, I’ve never quite encountered this many bodies that are above the age of 60 all at once. And the difference here is I AM PREGNANT. I have to say, I’ve not been naked in front of strangers with a big stomach ever. So needless to say, I felt a bit awkward.
10 minutes later, I was by the pool. I had to take my glasses off but I could sort of make out that the slow lane was open. I submerged myself in the water, which was at a perfect temperature and pushed off. It was glorious. The silence of water was calming and my body felt lighter. Ooooooooh. Ahhhhhhh. I did a lap doing the breast stroke and then flipped to my back. Even better. I wondered, as I slowly swam the lap staring at the ceiling of the pool and the flags, what this must feel like to Flippy. Or, rather, is this similar to how Flippy is existing at the moment? Swoosh. Swoosh.
Then I started to notice more of my surroundings. First of all, there was a lady in my lane. Not in a way that you’d expect doing lap swimming. More in a way that she was just hanging out in one spot of the lane. I noticed her after I passed her for the third time and realized that she hadn’t moved. Is this what they are referring to when they say the slow lane? Should I move one lane over? The thing that killed me about this Esther Williams was that she was sporting a shower cap. Not a swim cap, but a clear shower cap-like the kind you find in a hotel room. I guess she doesn’t want her shampoo-set messed up. Then I started to hear this blaring music with very heavy base line. It was the water aerobics class set to the tune of “ I Want It That Way” by The Back Street Boys. The instructor looked about 25, and her students were once again, about 70. I giggled, but then felt bad for this musical choice. The rest of my swim was accompanied by every other word of Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears songs because it went silent every time I went under water. What’s more annoying than that?
I finished my swim, headed back to the locker room, rinsed off (with my suit on), washed my hair, got dressed and left. My body felt good. It was an adventure.
I went back three days later and this time it was a Michael Jackson medley. As I entered, “The Man in The Mirror” was blasting, followed by “Thriller” (really?????) then “Beat It.” Oh Michael…this was back when you had a face and we all took you seriously. Swoosh. Swoosh. What’s great about this class is that it’s accompanied by shrill instructions that echo so much no one can make them out. I finished and headed to the locker room. There was a lady getting dressed when I got back who said, “Did you just do lap swim?” “Yeah,” I said. “That’s the way to do it,” she said, “I can’t STAND that aerobics class.” I giggled to myself and said, “Yeah…I don’t really care for that myself.” Then she went on to say, “It’s just too much jumping around, it’s awful!! I think I get more exercise out of it by just swimming.” “I’m with you on that.” I replied. Then she gathered her stuff and said, “Well, I better get out of here before that mob from the class comes in here.” And she took off. Minutes later, the “mob” consisting of 4 or 5 ladies waddling slowly came in, getting naked and chatting away about their sons in Arizona and how cold it got at the pool when we had a wind storm and lost heat. This is a mob all right. I thought, hey, if you are in your 70s and have this much energy to come to the community pool regularly even when they don’t have power, good for you. I hope I’m that well at that age.
Two days later, I have a cold. A nasty head cold. I’ve been doing well and even got a flu shot, but no, I think this pool gave me a cold. Pathetically, I may have to take a week off from swimming, but I shall return. I get a kick out of people there. And the music.
Comments