The Swimming Pool

Extract from Stronger Every Mile

I swam like I was a Sunday driver. I swam because it got me out of bed. I could do it early while everyone was still asleep—a good way of getting extra hours into my day. I could do it while I was still half asleep and semiconscious. It wasn’t really fitness to me; I saw it more as giving myself a good stretch. After a swim and a 5-minute chat with the swimming girls, I was set for the day.

I had never been one to exercise for the sake of it. I did it because I enjoyed it. So, when I started training and had to become a ‘proper swimmer’—a bit quicker and more serious—everyone at the pool found it very funny. I also had to drop down to two days. However, I got used to it and started enjoying swimming more. I was actually tired after a session, which was unheard of before.

In the pool, I didn’t do tumble turns like the pros. It was only a 20-metre pool, which was quite frustrating because it felt like you spent half the length pushing and gliding. I got in and swam at a consistent speed without stopping. Unless I happened to be neck and neck with Harry in the fast lane, then I would speed up and push myself until I could hardly breathe and had to admit defeat.

I often wondered if he was aware of me racing him. The other guy in the fast lane looked as though he was 10 feet tall. He moved minimally, yet travelled as fast as a torpedo. I wished I could swim like that.

There were so many types of swimmers in the pool. Nancy was a good swimmer but didn’t like putting her head in the water. She swam faster than me. It was hard not to, after all. Annabelle splashed a lot and swam at a good pace, so I didn’t like her swimming behind me in case she caught up and touched my toes.

The worst one was Speedo Man, who turned up every so often. He would walk to the far end of the pool and stand there in his tight camo Speedos. Not only that, but he would stand there proudly doing warm-up thrusts and squats. We would all look at him in horror and wonder how he could think this was okay.

And no, he wasn’t handsome; otherwise, obviously, we would have been okay with it. After all that, he would jump into the fast lane and swim at a snail’s pace.

Swimming pool rage is a thing; it really is. People (including me) become very set in their ways regarding which lane they swim in. I didn’t get up early to deal with oblivious people who jeopardised this. They would jump in front of you as you were approaching the end of the length and do the slowest, most annoying breaststroke, so you had to stop. What is wrong with people?

If someone is behind me, I let them pass because I don’t like the pressure of swimming faster and I just don’t like having someone behind me. But, ‘oh no,’ some people will take pride in knowing that they are ruining your day.

Might I add that it is often men because they assume that they must be faster than you, even though some of them look like they have never set foot in a pool.

In my local swimming pool, the lanes are divided into the following:

●      The hard shoulder: Here, it is acceptable to walk, chat, squat, or jump. After two operations, I have had to resort to this. It was a particularly low moment in my life.

●      The slow lane: Here, it is acceptable to do breaststroke or sidestroke while chatting. I have also had to go in this lane, having progressed from the hard shoulder post-operation.

●      The medium lane: This is where I usually swim. It is for those who come to the pool to actually swim and not stop until they get out, which means those who do some variation of front crawl or those who do fast breaststroke without talking.

●      The fast lane: This is where the two regular men (plus, occasionally, Speedo man) do front crawl and backstroke and use hand paddles. They are exceptional swimmers, but they think they are so superior that they don’t even bother booking in. They simply know that is where they belong and no one bothers to check at that time of the morning.

Swimmers like their routine; I know that. The ones I know go at the same time and more often than not, every weekday. They are also very territorial. So, when I go to a new pool, I normally get in a lane slower than my pace so I can see what speed I am compared to the other swimmers, to assess which lane I should be in.

I know that as long as I am in the right lane and let faster swimmers pass, no one will give me grief. Being asked to move by the lifeguard is a humiliating experience. Thankfully, it has never happened to me.

The thought of swimming in a pool actually disgusts me. During COVID-19, however, I was told that it was one of the safest places to be because the chlorine would kill anything in sight. I would think of all the young babies and kids who went for a wee in there or who wore those nappies that supposedly ‘contained’ everything. They absolutely don’t!