Twilight Swim

    Heading to the pool after work, tired, foot sore, hungry. But I didn't even try to talk myself out of my swim. I get to the club, suit up, shower, and head into the pool. The place was deserted, just the way I like it. An added bonus was that they had forgotten to turn on all the lights once the sun went down. There was only one fixture illuminating the shallow end of the pool, over the steps. The far end was bathed in shadow, it had the gloaming look of twilight. I smiled to myself, and hoped my luck would continue. The last few weeks my Saturday swim has been plagued with families, and a horrific, hot pink beach ball that is part of the pool's assortment of floaty things. For all the times I have had to push that damned ball out of my way, or toss it onto the deck after it gets left behind, I have been harboring a secret desire to bring a sharp implement and pop the damned thing. Okay, getting off track. But I really was expecting to be invaded at any time.
    I slipped into the water. The silence and darkness were so peaceful and inviting. It was my weekly Individual Medley swim set. I love this set because there is a mindlessness to it that is especially appealing when I am tired. It is a hard swim, because of the multiple sets of breast stroke and back stroke, which take so much more energy to move through the water. At the same time, my mind can relax because I am not having to count laps. Two laps breast, two of back, and two of freestyle equals one set. All I have to do is keep a minor part of my brain engaged in keeping track of sets.
    Last night, I was still feeling the intensity of Thursday's swim, the Broken Endurance Countdown, which has 42 laps of mixed intensity from glide to race pace to sprint to full power (plus 10 laps of warm-up, 10 laps of hand paddles after, 5 laps of kick drills, and 5 laps of cool-down). It is brutal, but my stroke mechanics are improving. As I swam, my muscles, although  a wee sore, felt great. From the first lap of freestyle I was pleased with how effortless and fluid my stroke felt. I couldn't help but feel elated at what, to me, felt like near perfection. I felt as if I was one with the water, gliding through with balance and ease. It was fabulous.
    At one point, about 20 laps into my set, since the swim itself does not require too much though, my mind slipped away to pondering my situation. Swimming alone in a darkened pool just begs for a crazed ax murderer or freakish ghoul to come in and crash the party. I started thinking through several of the uber-creepy, single paragraph horror stories that make the internet circuit around Halloween and started getting just a touch of the heebie-jeebies. At one point, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw someone sitting in the jacuzzi. I actually stopped and stood up to look over the raised rim of the hot tub to make sure that it was indeed empty. Fortunately, the mental freakout only lasted a few minutes before I was able to push it aside with thoughts of what I would make for dinner. After a 75 minute swim, I grabbed my water bottle and sank into the hot tub. I don't turn on the jets, preferring the silence. I went through my usual hot tub Yoga routine while I downed a liter of cold water. The only thing that could have made my swim more relaxing was if there had been candles around the hot tub. But that is asking for a bit much.
    I have been slowly increasing the distance and duration of each swim. Building my endurance and strength. To top off my Saturday swim I have been getting home, downing a quick protein smoothie, and going straight into an hour of upper body strength training with resistance bands and hand weights. Yes, it kind of kicks my ass. But there is no improvement if you don't keep pushing yourself. I will say, my swim workouts make me hungry for two days.