The gym that we joined is two minutes away from our house, has all the cardio and weight equipment we could possibly use, and has a pool. Jim and I spent a couple of weeks scouting out the pool in the mornings; seeing how crowded it was, what days were the most busy, checking out the swimmers. Then, about 10 days ago, I decided that today (or that Thursday) was the day for my first swim. I got to the gym as soon as it opened at 5 so I could choose my lane and have some time to swim by myself. I'm not too fond of sharing lanes with people at public pools since the majority of swimmers aren't really swimming. Most of them spend their time in the pool with fins and kick boards, doing breaststroke while keeping their head above the water, or floating on their backs doing some rendition of elementary backstroke. True to the stereotype, three other lanes filled with the aforementioned people.
I felt pretty good for the first half hour. The swimming felt easy and fluid and it was nice to be back in the rhythm (or as some like to say, the monotony) of swimming laps. Then, a girl got in the lane next to me and unknowingly ruined my workout. This girl got in the pool at 5:30 and had the nerve to start swimming faster than me. Instantly, my competitive side kicked in (thank you, Dad), and I couldn't enjoy swimming anymore because this girl was lapping me. I started doing absurd things; I stopped for a drink of water at the wall right before she was about to pass me, hoping that she would think she was only passing me because I was resting. I pushed off the wall harder from my flip turns. I told myself that she was faster because I was half way through my swim and she had just started. I destroyed what should have been an enjoyable first swim back in the pool because I couldn't zone this girl out and swim at my own pace. I came home from the gym in a filthy mood and I'm sure Jim was thrilled to get out of the house and workout instead of having to listen to me blame an innocent girl for ruining my morning.
The next Tuesday, I decided to go back for round two. I wasn't sure how often this girl swam but I decided I wasn't going to take any chances. I got there at five again and picked a lane on the opposite side of the pool. Swimmers are usually creatures of habit and once they find a lane that they like, they'll stick with it. When Jim, Jerry and I were training for the Ironman, we had our chosen lanes that we swam in for every workout. Anyway, I saw the dreaded girl swimmer get in the pool at 5:30 again, in her lane. I couldn't keep track of her even if I wanted to which meant that I had a wonderful swim. It is completely and totally irrational, I know, but I just can't help it. It's that same competitive nature that won't allow me to get in the pool and just swim for an hour. I have to count my laps or do a certain amount of meters. Being this way is great on Race Day...but why can't I just enjoy working out? I'm not even training for anything at the moment. As Joseph has taught me, it's important to never think anything is your own fault, so in this case, I've chosen to blame Dad. We've all been out for an "easy" ride with Dad, which is easy until someone has the audacity to attempt to pass us. Those "easy" rides turn into time trials in a matter of minutes. So I know it's genetic, and there's not much I can do to fight it. I'll be in the pool on Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 5am, finding ways to make my life difficult and looking for other people to blame, if anyone would like to join me.
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