It has only been 9 weeks since my knee starting having its little hissy fit, but already I feel as though I could write a book about things that irritate me about swimming. Perhaps part of the rage is because I managed a paltry 1.3 mile run today before I had to throw in the towel. Instead of rattling off a million pool-related quibbles, however, I’ll settle for venting about only 3.
1. Wave goodbye to nice hair.
Appreciating the softness of natural hair is still kind of novel to me. From my early teens I would bleach, colour, re-bleach, re-colour, and generally abuse my hair to the point that it was entirely normal to expect it to break off sporadically in chunks. Then I settled for black, and rode the goth train for a good half decade, eventually reaching the point where I no longer wanted to be a fat, chain-smoking, heavy-drinking, sleep-deprived mess. One of the things I stopped doing is dying my hair, which entailed a year of horrendous regrowth; a stage during which not many photographs survived, thankfully, and those that still exist were taken in badly lit gay bars in London:
After a solid year of mainly tying my hair back and ignoring how terrible it looked (thanks, friends, for not telling me about colour-stripping products), I ended up with soft, golden tresses. Sometimes, still, I’ll play with my hair and marvel how little like straw it feels.
At least I did, until I started swimming.
It took me less than a week to realize I NEEDED to buy a cap, and I now wet my hair under the shower before putting in on and hitting the pool (I don’t know why, but I always did this when I was on a swim team, and do it without thinking – there might be a reason, there might not). I have even had to go back to using conditioner, which I haven’t bothered using since my hair grew out, because it made it too oily. And still – my hair smells chloriney (after double washing), all day, and feels course and brittle. Fabulous.
2. Some people obviously do not understand what ‘Fast Lane’ means.
Before I sound like a complete dick, I am not saying I belong in the fast lane in every pool. I don’t. But the pool I usually use? The 20m pool that has retired men and women using underwater weights or walking lengths? I belong in the fast lane of that pool.
What doesn’t belong in the fast lane of that pool? Pretty much 90% of the people I see using it, which means the people that should be using it are pushed into the slower lane, or the ‘Gen-Pop’ section, where they inevitably become tangled in someone else’s legs/get squished to the wall/give up and relax in the steam room.
The other week there was a guy who got into the fast line and started crab walking from side to side. Crab walking. Allow me to illustrate via crappy Paint drawing:
3. Lane etiquette is not always adhered to.
Thankfully, The pool is rarely filled to capacity, and there are usually only 2 people per lane, during which time there is an unspoken rule that you take half a lane each and stay out of each other’s way. Perfect. Apart from when some lady decides to indulge in the most bizarre interpretation of breaststroke I have ever witnessed. I need to employ my bitchin’ Paint skills once more to fully illustrate the leg position. What even is this??
You do not need to have had swimming lessons to know that this is not correct. I was kicked several times during my session with the frog lady, and thankfully a space in the actual fast lane became available during my last kilometer, so I was able to avoid a minor concussion.
On the one occasion I have made it to the Aquatics Centre for a swim it was much busier. Generally people stuck to an appropriate lane (slow, medium, or fast), and I jumped into a medium lane to crack out 45 minutes or so. I could see the swimmers in the fast lane next to me would clearly be on my feet the whole time if I switched lanes, but I was still overtaking someone in my lane every 2 lengths or so, which was mildly frustrating, but alright since there was generally enough room. Then, when I was about 2 seconds from the wall, a guy who had been resting at the wall for the past couple of minutes chose to push off right in front of me and break into a freaking breaststroke. It’s a good thing people can’t hear my swearing underwater, because I was not impressed. It was like a tractor pulling out in front of a normal car on a single lane road when they could have waited for one more moment and THEN taken off.
Swimming road rage is definitely a thing.
Injured runners forced to the pool – what is your beef with swimming?