In too deep





 

                                         The Elephant in the Water

It was still dark outside when I woke up this morning to the incessant ringing of my punctual alarm clock. I’m not dilly, but yes I am that person who gets up earlier than most to slog it at the gym.

This morning, being a cardio day, was my swim day. Sounds daunting, but once you’re in the heated pool in the fancy Virgin Active Gym; you are suddenly overcome by a very Chad Le clos seriousness. People who are up at that hour are not there to muck about and blow bubbles. This is dedicated training time! These people eat protein bars and drink tasteless powder shakes.  (I don’t do that….Yugh).

I began swimming about a month ago due to an injury, and although I’m not a fantastic swimmer, I manage not to drown.  I still hit my head on the wall sometimes and have regular fits of hysteria from swallowing water, but I pull it off like a pro. Well at least I thought I did anyway, until today, when an unexpected visitor actually made me think about pool etiquette for the very first time. Let me tell you why.

I was on about my 147^th lap…… okay, it was more like my 4^th haul through the bottomless water well, when I suddenly saw a beautiful human form standing at the end of my lane.  He was a god like creature who resembled a young and straight Ricky Martin.  I couldn't believe my luck. My cheap goggles began to steam up almost instantly, so I swam faster to get a closer look.  When I reached the end of my lane, or at that point I thought the end of my life as I knew it, I caught the light from the sparkling pool tiles reflecting off what I can only assume was his Italian or Portuguese olive skin. Yes, I had not been fooled by my fading eye sight; this young man was an aesthetic jackpot!

I looked up and smiled nervously. He gave me the generic "what's up" head nod while he sat down to wait for a free lane. It didn’t take me long to see the work of the Gods here as I pounced on the opportunity to offer him my lane to share. I figured this way, our skins could accidently touch, and he’d be forced to feel what I was feeling.  He probably had more sense than to share a lane with a crazy gym lady who gets up at 5am and wears pink lumo goggles, because he politely turned down my offer. As disappointed as I was to miss my chance at playing a little Marco Polo, I figured I would just have to impress him with my ultra-athletic ability. This would mean tumble turns, good timing, and speed.

I started out  gliding through the water like a real champ, with good form and stamina, and I was even remembering some of the things my old school swimming coach taught me ( focus on your kicking, push down the water, come up after every 3 strokes to breathe etc.) About less than half way into my surreptitious plan, my not so fit body was running out of energy, and rather conspicuously too.  My kicking got slower and I began to breathe after every 2 strokes.  Failing miserably, I was forced to re-think my mission. If I wasn’t going to win him over with my “athletic” ability, I was going to have to use my grace. Yes, it was decided, I was going to swim like a lady; a well put together and poised lady who could just as well be swimming at her local country club. I could definitely pull this off!

So what does swimming like a lady mean? Don’t worry, I didn’t know either, I was just going to wing it; one can’t pass at the chance of true love when they’re already in this deep. I wracked my brain for anything that would come to me and all I could come up with was to point my toes. At this stage he was in the lane next to me, and was certain to catch a look from under the surface. Pointing toes during breastroke, although not a text book swimming technique, would surely imply I was sophisticated. Coupled with elegant dolphin dives and Yasmine Bleeth hair tosses, I’d be meeting his parents by sunset. Although in hindsight, the hair tossing must have looked rather strange seeing as I had a one size fits all swimming cap on and no hair to toss.  Regardless, through all my zealous endeavours, I really thought I had him pinned.  But I think I lost him when he saw me doing butterfly. I looked like a caterpillar at a matric rage; lumo goggles and all.

Sadly by this point, my time was up; apart from busting out with some contorted imitation of synchronised swimming, I had run out of ideas. I contemplated writing my phone number on his flipper that was lying on the bench, but thought I had probably given the guy more than enough creep for the day. So I got out the pool, sucked in my stomach and focussed intensely on walking to the change room without slipping.

Unfortunately, I had not been successful at my mission, and was just going to have to settle for a bowl of Kellogg’s for breakfast. No new love interest, or potential forever and ever. This mornings’ experience was merely meant to be something I would giggle about with friends. But one thing's for sure…I’m defintiely buying new goggles!