Strange Denizens of the Bally's Pool

Of the three sports in triathlon, swimming tends to require the most logistical planning. With biking you can get out early on a nice day or hit the stationary trainer late at night. With running I don't let too much stop me from getting outside. Ice and lightning are about the only two things that can force me on to an indoor track or the dreaded treadmill. But swimming involves a number of factors.

Which pools are open? What does my workout call for? And most importantly, who am I likely to run into?

This last question is the most important. Last year started out east enough as the only pool I belonged to through the winter was the one at the local high school. Most nights it was just me flailing end to end and the life guards placing bets on when I would go under and they would have to spring into action. Luckily, I never allowed the bet to pay out. When the school year ended the pool closed, and I had to move on to another if I wanted to keep swimming. Enter the local Bally's Gym and the entertaining world of pool users.

At first I kept going at night, but the pool proved to be too crowded and made up mostly of swimmers much better than myself. Preferring to be embarrassed in front of the smallest number of people as possible, I started swimming in the mornings. This is when I learned my first lesson.

When the gym opens at 5:00, the pool opens at 5:00 and if you want a lane go directly there and start swimming. Change in the locker room and show up five minutes later and you're sharing a lane or waiting. Show up late, same thing. Not to mention, I was intruding on some people's set schedules. It was my goal to make it my set schedule too. The only way to do that was to keep showing up. I made my way through the rest of season and then let them have their pool back.

This season I started up early again. Through trial and error I learned that Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays were the best days to swim. On Tuesdays and Thursdays all of the lanes were spoken for by the regulars, so MWF it was. Luckily, lane three was open and it's been mine since. The 5:00 AM regulars don't talk much if at all. We show up, shed our warm-ups and jump right in. We don't even know each other's names. By 5:30 the first two swim lanes and the walking lane are vacant, and I'm the only one left. It's a system that works well.

I had last Friday off, so I decided to get my swim in a bit later than that usual. That's when things got weird.

First of all, the place was packed. The steam room, the dry sauna, the hot tub and pool were filled. Average age: about 75. The starting line up went like this:

Lane 1: Some guy doing a float, walk, drift combo. Reverted to my EMT skills and did a visual check to make sure this guy was still viable. He was, barely.
Lane 2: Older lady doing the token old lady feet-dragging, float on her back, simultaneous arm motion backstroke. Oddly enough, she did this while carrying an empty water bottle in her left hand the whole time. Seems like that would make this odd motion even harder, but who am I to judge?
Lane 3: Younger, old lady doing the same thing sans water bottle. It then became evident that she spotted me as an intruder.
The Walking Lane: Open. Perfect. Given the average speed and the bodies in motion in Lanes 1-3 and the unlikelihood that they would share a lane, this is where I'd swim. I dropped my swim gear at the end of the lane and went to drop my bag next to the pool.

One of the hot tub goers saw this intrusion start to take place and jumped into action. Well, "jumped" isn't quite the right term. Perhaps "sauntered" or "shuffled" into action is a better way to sum it up. Anyway, as I hopped in he made his way right in front of me and started to shuffle end to end. I wasn't swimming here on his watch. Not today.

Back out of the pool and sitting wet in one of the chairs now hoping that someone will get out. I could tell by now that Lane 3 was just killing time. Float a lap or two and then hang out for a few minutes. Look at me, look away, do some stretches, look back at me and then float away. Repeat.

I finally won this war of attrition and waited her out. I got a dirty look as she moved past me, but I didn't really care by this point. I did my warm up and started to notice how the pool area was getting more and more crowded. Luckily, being the only swimmer pretty much allowed me a lane to myself the whole time. It became evident that I wasn't interrupting anyone's work outs, I was interrupting social hour.

The conversations ran the gamut, but it was the guy next to me and his friend in the hot tub that warrant review here. Keep in mind that they were separated by about 10' and were yelling most of the time. I was doing 100 yard intervals, so I was only privy to here about 20 seconds of their conversation every 1:45 or so. Here's what they covered in the course of ten minutes.

Pool: "... she was a beautiful girl 'til she covered herself in tattoos."
Hot Tub: "What?"
P: "I said, 'she was a beautiful girl until she got all those tattoos.'"
HT: "Oh right. Well, if God wanted 'em there in the first place he would have put them on."
P: "Well, you know, some guys like to read while they work."
HT: "What?"
P: "SOME GUYS LIKE TO READ WHILE THEY WORK."
HT: "Oh, right."

--- swim interval ---

HT: "Who scored our runs last night?"
P: "Francisco."
HT: "Who?"
P: "Ben Francisco."
HT: "No. They're playing San Diego."
P: "No. Ben Francisco got the runs."
HT: "Oh. Good. I like him."

--- swim interval ---

P: "Every war in our history is George Bush's fault!"
HT: "Every one?"
P: "Yep."
HT: "Vietnam?"
P: "Bush's fault!"
HT: "Korea?"
P: "Bush's fault!"
HT: "World War I & II?"
P: "Both Bush's fault."
HT: "Civil War?"
P: "Definitely Bush's fault!"

I think I'm going to stick with my 5:00 AM swim workouts going forward. Going at any other time is just too weird.

Note: The subject of this entry is hardly unique to me. There's a thread on the forums of slowtwitch.com that originated in 2006 titled "Strange Denizens of the Pool." It is now 35 pages long and still occasionally updated with more stories.

March & Year-To-Date Totals

Sorry for the oversight, but I forgot to post March actuals. Here they are:

March Totals:
Swim - 18,050 yards
Bike - 224.00 miles
Run - 59.75 miles

Year-To-Date Totals:
Swim - 67,600 yards
Bike - 631.60 miles
Run - 248.50 miles

Carpe Diem

"Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment, would you capture it or just let it slip?"

- Eminem, Lose Yourself

Finally getting a chance to catch up with the blog after 3 weeks off. Training has been picking up and it seems like there is never a free moment. Any free time I do find usually ends up being spent playing with John or doing chores. This morning I got in a quick swim workout and some time with the weights which kept tonight open. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been looking forward to tonight all day.

Myself & Chief Bill Daywalt at the 2011
ALA Climb the Tower Stair Climb.

A developing theme over the past few weeks has been all about making the most of the opportunities in front of me. I think that's what pursuing an Ironman is all about. Taking one shot and making it count. I guess you could say that I'm taking "someday" and making it today. These chances pop up even when you're not expecting them to. Sometimes you just need to be in the right place at the right time. Other times you need someone to guide or push you. And sometimes, you're just along for the ride trying to hang on. Then there's always the chance you're influencing someone else to push themselves just a little bit harder to do something they've never done.

A few weeks ago a few of us from the firehouse competed in the American Lung Association's 2011 Climb the Tower. This is the third year that we've competed, but this year we recruited our former chief, Bill Daywalt. A few years ago Chief tried to recruit some of us to apply for the show "Mantracker" in which a professional tracker chases a team of two through the Canadian Rockies after giving them a head start. We all declined. Then this winter someone challenged him to an obstacle filled mud run. He signed up. So, it was no surprise to us that he said this was the year that he'd join us for the stair climb. He started running to get ready. After work or on the weekends he snuck away to get some practice in at some of our local high rises. Billy made the most of the day and made it to the top 50 stories up from street level. He wore all his gear including that ridiculously heaving, but stylish, leather helmet.

Two weeks ago during my Thursday morning run with the group, I knew it'd be an adventure once Paul took over and we started following him. Paul's tolerance for road only seems to extend as far as official races, so it was no surprise when we were off on another trail adventure. Over a river and through the woods and next thing I know we're headed up and over Mt. Joy. I'd never done that before, so check it off the list. Down the other side and across Rt. 252, and then we started right up Mt. Misery. I'd always wanted to run both in one shot, but I never set out to do it.

As we descended the other side of Mt. Joy and looked across Valley Forge National Park, I told the group that running both hills in one run had always been on my "someday" list. Someone chimed in and said, "Well, I guess someday just became today." Check it off, because it's done. I'm looking forward to the day I'll no longer have to say "Someday, I'll be an Ironman."