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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Fish On

Tuesday I decided to do something a little different than my usual brick ("b"ike-"r"un-ick) or pieces of it, so I decided to go to the Y after work and work on my lap swimming. Before work I packed my bag so I could just stop in on my way home and I was pretty proud of myself for being so efficient.
After my last meeting, I headed to the Y in my car and I was trying to remember if I had everything I needed, checking off the contents of my gym bag in my head. As I drove I could not recall seeing my goggles, which I confirmed by rifling through the bag in the parking lot of the Y. Rats! I headed home to collect my goggles, and after a search of everywhere they weren't, I finally tossed them into my bag along with a pair I swiped from my son that looked cooler than mine - they were Speedo goggles that had holographic dinosaur eyes on the eye pieces, really pretty cool looking.
After a short drive back to the Y, I quickly got changed and up to the pool. I got a little lost on my way to the pool since the route through the stairwell is not well marked and I had not taken this route to the pool in a couple of years. Rats again - It's a little embarrassing to be wandering the staircase of the Y in your swimsuit.......
I went to put on my cool dinosaur goggles and as I tried to pull them over my head, -SNAP!- the ancient rubber strap broke. No biggie- I will just tie the 2 ends together and still wear them, so I gave that a whirl. Tie, tighten, SNAP! Tie, tighten, SNAP! By the time I realized I was not going to be able to rig up the goggles to work, I had 2 eyepieces with about an inch of strap attached to each side. RATS! Back to the locker room to get my own plain blah goggles out of my locker........
Finally, I was ready to jump and in start lapping. I took off quickly from the block and began a nicely paced freestyle with a 3:1 stroke to breath ratio, beautiful form if I do say so myself. That lasted exactly 50 yds. Lack of oxygen to my brain led me to decide that I should breathe every other stroke to ensure I did not pass out. That lasted 50 more yards. Then I decided that I should take it easy for a little bit, so I switched to the breaststroke for a couple laps, which ended up being the next 300 yards. After that my new pattern was 50 free, followed by 350 of breaststroke "recovery". I got in 1200 yards that way (3/4 of a mile!), but I was disappointed that I did not have more stamina for freestyle. Definitely will have to work on that some more.... At 1200 yds, I was noticing that there was a middle school aged group of swimmers on the deck warming up, I assume it was the Y swim team. When they began jumping into the water and starting laps, I decided it was time to get out and hit the showers, fearing my already bruised pride would suffer another crushing blow if I were to share the lanes with these quick young things.
(I did hear a couple of guys discussing a "triathlon stroke" and how to do it, and I kept my eye on them to see if they might be practicing it, but that never materialized (Besides that, one cannot watch guys in Speedo nuthuggers for long without laughing out loud.......... nuthuggers=yucky). Anyone have any idea where I can get more info on the triathlon stroke? It has something to do with a dolphin kick, and that's about all I know. My bro-in-law Jeff was talking about it last year too after the Devils Lake tri, but I still don't get what it entails and would like to give it a try. )
I made my way back to the locker room and I get to the entry from the pool stairs and realize that it does not take my key card, you need a combination to punch into the keypad to open the door. What do you suppose that is...??? RATS! I had to tromp out into the main hall in my dripping wet swimsuit and swimcap, wrapped in a towel and use the keycard on the regular door.
I took a steam (OMG- my favorite "pamper me" thing about the Y), then showered and got ready to go home. I realized I had not packed a comb for my ragmop head (RATS!) and was going to have to try to shape it with my fingers. I went to the mirror to work on this and did a double take at what I saw. To say that my mascara had run a bit in the pool would be an understatement. I was pretty much looking like Alice Cooper on crack, with black circles, runs, and smears almost to my jawline that were now dried onto my skin. ("how many people had I talked to with this mess on my face?" I began to count them up in my head......) I could not get the mess to scrub off, it seemed to be permanent so after a little scrubbing I realized it wasn't coming off. I packed up the rest of my stuff and walked out of the Y, sporting a wet rats nest of a hairdo and looking like a kid had scribbled on my face with a Sharpie.

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