Ugh, people. I think I turned into a creepy guy the other day at the pool.And – TRUST ME – I’m usually really well adjusted and manage not to burp in public* or stare at people’s facial moles. Uuuusally I’m a totally sane, bring home to mom kind of gal.
This morning I think I crossed over to creepdom.
You know, I remember in law school a teacher saying in his wise but uber-friendly, let-me-put-you-first-years-at-ease (and-guarantee-you'll-like-me) way, that there is always that one person in the room. That one guy (or gal) who everyone takes note of...and not for a good reason. Keep asking stupid questions about nothingrelaventwhatsoever…and you’re that guy. Keep raising your hand when you’ve already spoken SIXTEEN TIMES TODAY…yup, you’re that gal. Make it clear to everyone in the room that you want to sleep with your professor, not learn from them…no DOUBT everyone in the class has your number.
And, if you don’t know who the “One” is…then it’s you.
Pretty darned sage advice, I think. At least it worked like magic in law school…
Anyway, I digress.
So, I get into the pool for my little endurance session and was really (REALLY) looking forward to not having to remember how many intervals or ladders or whatever I did. Warm up. 35 minutes even pace. Cool down.
Now even my sleep deprived brain can manage that task.
And all is cool because there is – literally – nobody in the pool. And I – literally – woke the lifeguard up from her NAP when I walked in. And about halfway through my set the WednesdayFriday guy comes in.
Now, I digress a little more. There are TuesdayThursday people who I’ve gotten used to in the pool, but recently I’ve found I’ve needed to do a makeup session on…you guessed it…a Wednesday or Friday. Go figure.
And there’s this guy who swims WednesdayFriday and is, well, ridiculously fast. I mean, I think his stroke count for one length is, like, 4 strokes or something ridiculous like that. He pushes off the wall and just motorboats it to the other end before the lifeguard even knew he was in the pool.
And his stroke is perfect.
I mean PERFECT.
Entry is practically silent. His arm is *always* at a 90 degree angle out of the water, elbow forward. He hands are perpetually cupped properly. His kick is silent but deadly.
And, guys, seriously. His pull is a thing of beauty.
Think I’m exaggerating? Meet me at the Y next Wednesday, around .
So, CLEARLY I have a thing for this guy’s stroke. Embarrassing, I know. But I do. And normally I just sneak glances here and there and think, "wow, he's pretty damned good at this stuff." You know, play it cool and all while checking out the pull from underwater.
But yesterday, I was trying so hard to make my form right, I just couldn't help but to STARE. I mean I just blatantly STARED at a complete stranger. A stranger in a speedo. In a practically public pool.
Ogled. Gawked. And -- likely -- creeped him the heck out. Who is this total weirdo? Why is she watching me swim? Good lord, lady...face front or get outta the pool!
(You know...I betcha he has a blog. I betcha he wrote about the creep in the pool who couldn't come up with enough to occupy her brain that she had to watch the show. I'm mortified in advance.)
Thankfully for both of us, my set was done before he called the cops...or at least notified the napping lifeguard. But I think I learned a lot about form from watching him. And maybe a little about boundaries. Possibly not as much about the boundary stuff as I should have. Next Wednesday's main set: exercising safe pool gawking boundaries. Do you think that's a preset in the TrainingPeaks library? I'll check...
* I make no promises about home. No. Promises. At. All.