I finally got to swim again yesterday. It had been a week. I think the lack of consistency only enhances my crabbitude. I've got to try to get there more often.
So, I start my laps and it's going pretty well. But by about lap 20, I pause at the wall for a short breather because, well, basically I'm having a mild infarction or two. I glance over at the lane next to mine and I see an elderly gentleman resting with his head against the wall. Seems like a nice enough fellow, but there's a small problem.
He's got an undulating, bright green boogersnot dangling from his nose, threatening to unload into the drink. I look away instantly and do a stealth internal dry heave. I'm thinking, "Damn, Gramps. You've got a major loogenoid hanging from your schnoz there and, from the looks of it, you might also have a serious sinus infection going on, to boot."
Of course, I can't help myself. I glance back and he's still there, chillin' and grillin'. But now, his snot moustachio is gone! Disappeared! Vanished!
Which means just one thing -- it's now floating around somewhere in the pool, only one lane away! And I've still got like 20 laps to go. FLECCHHH -- it's giving me the willies again just thinking about it.
That's the major drawback of swimming. Sure, it's relaxing, womb-like, great cardio, easy on the old skeletal system. The only problem is, you're basically floating around in warm pee-booger-assy-effluvia stew. It's like swimming in a toilet bowl. No, worse. It's like swimming in Ernest Borgnine's toilet bowl. On chimichanga night.
I used to bum out because the chlorine always dried out my skin and made me all itchy. But after this episode, I hope it's all chlorine. Fuck the water. I want it to burn when I dip my toe in there. I want it so chlorine-y that when a booger hits the surface, it vaporizes and turns into a green, wispy vapor. If some kid lays a turd in there, I want it to start bubbling like a jacuzzi until that bolus turn into a fart. I don't want to have to wend my way through underwater forests of snot seaweed. I want to look out of my goggles at crystal-clear nothingness.
I've gotta get me one of those endless pools they advertise in the back of the NY Times magazine. That would be awesome. Then I could swim whenever I want. In my own filth.
But until that day, I'll be swimming at the Y in this: