The Swim

    My first lap swim. Ever. My first public appearance in a Speedo. Ever. I did not shame myself, I am happy to report. Politely inquiring from the lifeguard which lane was open, not wanting to confess that without my glasses I am damn near blind, he, equally politely, directed me to lane two. Exhibiting a confidence I did not feel, I sat on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the comfortably lukewarm water and slipped on my Speedo goggles. Body appropriately attired in skin tight, black and red spandex that fortunately was not riding up like a thong. Head encased in a hot pink, condom like swim cap that made me feel like my skull must look like an eager penis ready to cleave the water with gusto. And now, goggles like octopus tentacles threatening to suck my eyeballs from their sockets. I was ready to swim.
    I slipped into the water and was surprised at how comforting it felt. I have never been more than a recreational swimmer, but I have always felt I was a decently strong swimmer. Now, as I slipped easily through the water, slowly, but easily, I began to think that I might do quite well in the swimming segment of a triathlon. I began with a simple breast stroke, two laps. Then the hand over hand freestyle, trying to breathe properly and have decent form, and snorting water up my nose, making me splutter like a newb. Sidestroke and backstroke. I alternated between the four basic strokes, knowing that the ability to be strong in all could help me keep forward momentum and prevent fatigue on long swims. I know I need to improve my freestyle, perfect my breathing, not snort water up my nose, since it is the fastest of basic strokes.
    I managed to do ten 50 yard laps without pausing much between laps. I was feeling kind of cocky. I decided to do an additional five laps, for a total of 750 yards. I admit, the last five laps were not too easy, and my pauses at the end of each were longer. But I felt triumphant. Then I got out of the water. Holymotherofgod, I was exhausted. It hit me as I forced myself to walk steadily to the locker room, but damn, I wanted to stumble into a comfortable chair. Once in the locker room, and under the warm water of the shower, I discovered that getting out of a wet Speedo is kind of like trying to peel a green banana with oiled hands, not so very easy. But, shower, shaky, and feeling gloriously tired, the swim was a success.
    I have never been a competitive swimmer, not yet. But I am beginning to see the reality of my first triathlon. I mean, G'damn, swimming is an amazing workout, my upper body hasn't felt this worn out in a long time, despite my religious strength training routines. I am excited to add it to my regiment.