Wednesday, December 05, 2012
This week, I've been dragging a little bit. I keep hitting snooze on my alarm and going back to bed. Monday, I was late getting in the pool so I only did a half swim (15 mins). Fast & furious 500m, which left me a little dizzy. Good thing I packed peanut butter on whole wheat...devoured IMMEDIATELY after that swim.
Yesterday, I literally rolled out of my bed at 6:15am and my spin class starts at 6:30...on the other side of town. Guess what? I still went. Bad. A*s. So glad I didn't skip that one...because it was a great workout.
So, this morning...I was bound and determined to make up the 15 mins I missed on Monday. I had planned a 45 min swim, rather than my usual 30 mins. That extra 15 mins was pretty rough. You might think it's because my body was not ready for it...nope, you'd be wrong.
In order to explain both the suckage of the final 15 mins of my workout, as well as lessons learned, I feel a change in format would be appropriate. Please feel free to read my mail...a letter I'm sending to one Mr. Brute.
Dear Mr. Brute,
You showed up in my lane when I just had 16 lengths to go.
First of all, how do you swim in gold chains? Why don't you take your jewelry off when you get in the pool? Don't you worry about it getting tarnished or ruined?
Secondly, I don't understand how it's possible, but as soon as you got in the pool and swam one length, I could literally smell and taste your cologne for the rest of my swim. How is that even possible? Considering, I don't have the superpower of breathing underwater?
Last, and definitely not least, why do you swim like a brute? Your crazy thrashing and flailing of your arms and legs created the biggest tidal waves I've ever seen in that pool. Do you know that you are wasting SO much energy and you could do a lot more if you'd just chill out? And, thank you very much, as I gently glided through the water and went to breathe over my shoulder, I was not greeted with pure, sweet oxygen...but, rather, an entire mouth and lung full of chlorine cologne water. You might have noticed me choking at the end of the lane if you weren't too busy parting the Red Sea.
Ahhhh, my apologies. This is so mean. Let's look at the positives...you showed up at a public pool at 7:30 in the morning. You did ASK me if you could share the lane (which is one of the most intimidating aspects of swimming in public, if you ask me). I clearly said, "Yes." So I suppose some of the blame goes to me.
And I suppose I should give you credit for doing what so many are too afraid to do. Even if you did waste energy with your chopping strokes, it's so much better than just rolling over in bed and sleeping another hour...or sitting on the couch for hours upon hours playing video games.
You know, I should apologize for my cruel assessment of you and commend you for doing something for yourself. And, hey...about the cologne, at least you care what you smell like. So many guys don't. Good for you.
Let's also acknowledge the fact that, when I actually do end up making it to a real triathlon, the swim will most likely be in open water with hundreds, if not thousands, of other athletes. And if the biggest worry I have is gulping water because of waves from other swimmers, I'll be in pretty damn good shape. Come to think of it, maybe you should accidentally kick me in the face next time we share a lane...you know....training and preparation for reality and all that.
I suppose we have a bit more in common than I care to admit. Listen, fella...you go out there and kick some a*s. I'll see you in the pool soon, buddy.