I like to exercise. I walk, do yoga, but swimming at a nearby fitness center is my main activity. Three mornings a week, I crawl out of my warm bed and jump into cold water to swim 30 laps. The whole swimming routine takes exactly one hour. In one hour, I can get to the pool, get out of my sweats in the locker room, swim, chit chat with those who dared the pool at the same time, and dry off in the sauna. I like to dry off in the sauna because I don’t like to shower at the gym. I admit it. I do not want to be naked in the gym locker. It’s not that I am ashamed – well, that is part of the reason, but the real problem for me is the mirrors. I swear that gym hangs magical fat mirrors.
Magical fat mirrors are mirrors that add at least ten pounds of flesh to the areas of your body that you are the most self-conscious about. The mirrors are magical because they know exactly where to put the extra fat. These mirrors have no mercy. At home, you start to see your body shaping up from exercise. You see muscle tone definition and less jiggling. In the locker room, not only is there jiggling, but there is cellulite addition as well. Places that do not have cellulite at home, have it at the gym.
Retail stores use the same trick. Only, they employ magical skinny mirrors. You try on an outfit, and you think you look great. Your legs are long, your arms are toned and the outfit hugs all in the right places. So, you plop down your money and take that outfit home. Then, you put it on at home in front of your own mirrors and you know immediately you have fallen victim to the magical skinny mirrors. Your car’s engine does not even get a chance to cool off. You pack up the outfit and head back to the store for a refund.
Personally, I think this is a conspiracy waged upon gym goers. I think gyms hire companies to make magical fat mirrors so that people never see body improvement. Maybe they think it will keep people coming to the gym. I think that this backfires. If you never see improvement, why would you bother to put yourself through so much torture? Laugh at me if you will, but next time you are in a gym locker room, take a long look in their mirrors and tell me what you see. Don’t be fooled. It’s not you in the mirror. It’s the magical fat image the mirror reflects.
Okay, enough paranoia. The other problem with swimming is that from January to March, newbie swimmers come on board. These are the people who get gym memberships for Christmas, and they have made New Year’s resolutions to lose weight and get healthy by the spring. By April Fool’s Day (how apropos), the newbies have forsaken the cool waters of the pool for the quilt on their beds. However, in those three months, they wreak havoc on the swimming community.
The newbies, who know that their yen for exercise is short-lived, do not bother to learn swim etiquette. They don’t shower before they go in the pool, they float in the lap lanes on those long noodle things that the old people use for water aerobics, and they do not share lanes when the pool is crowded. Every real swimmer knows that if there are no available lanes, you share. It’s like a carpool lane only it’s a swim pool lane – pool being the operative word! When the pool is crowded, pool etiquette says you swim on the right hand side of the lane so that another swimmer can do laps as well.
Most newbies are nice enough. All you have to do is ask, “Do you mind if I share your lane?” Usually, even if they hate the idea, they don’t have the guts to say no and move over. They know there is the regular swim crowed that rules the pool. They don’t want to rock the boat. However, three weeks ago, I got to the gym at my regular time. When I walked into the pool, I waved to the usual folks and then noticed that all the lanes were taken. I sat at the edge of the first lane and asked the woman in a polite voice,
“Would you mind if I shared the lane with you?”
At which she replied,
“Yes, I do. I don’t want to share the lane. If you want a lane, you should get here earlier.”
I wasn’t sure at first if she was kidding, so I smiled. Seeing that I did not comprehend her response, she repeated her stance.
“I am not sharing a lane. I pay my money here and that entitles me to my own lane.”
“Fine. That is your choice.” I said with clenched teeth. What I wanted to say was “People have been known to drown in four feet of water, you rude bitch.”
Don’t damn me. It was 7 AM, I was in a swim suit, and I had not had a cup of coffee yet. All in all, I think I did well. After all, I did not jump in the pool and hold her head underwater.
The gentleman in the lane next to the bitch - oops, I mean - swimmer, caught her response to me when he came up for breath at the end of his lap. Immediately, he offered to share his lane with me. He sensed trouble afoot. While two women coming to blows is usually a turn on for guys (why? I do not know), two winter-pale, middle-aged women trying to shed excess Christmas cookie pounds, somehow lacks that sexual tension that drives men crazy. Go figure.
Anyway, I shared the lane with the nice guy. I did one lap – count it – one freaking lap, and the lane hogger got out of the pool and headed into the locker room. So, I followed her, and do you know what happened then? Nothing! I am kidding. I didn’t follow her. I just cursed her out under my breath and did my laps. I have to say, I am a little thankful. I was so mad, I attacked that water, and you know what? I never saw that woman again. Maybe, just maybe, the magical fat mirrors got her.