I woke up at 5:15 to Matt's alarm, which, though blaring, is still better than the one in my phone, which seems to set itself to endless snooze reminders and will just not shut up. Because cold, pitch-dark New York winter mornings are so conducive to procrastination, I did not get to the bike until 6:30, which made me way late for the pool. The swim, when I started, went, um, swimmingly! Nice smooth strokes, steady breathing and great posture. I love gliding through the water like that—relaxed and zoned out, with nothing to do but think and count strokes. It's like a mini-vacation in my happy place.
Ahhhh. Six hundred yards and I felt great. I was taking my two-minute rest, which I happily did not seem to need at all. Everything was peaceful in the deep side of the pool—it's always quiet that early in the morning; just a few serious swimmers and a lifeguard.
I like resting my arms on the cool tiles of the wall, just over the water's edge, so I sprawled out and closed my eyes. The light tickling sensation I felt on my hands soon after was a little strange at first. It was almost as if one of my kids was gently touching my fingers. Lazily, I turned my head to see who it was. He was looking right at me, only it wasn't one of my little guys; it was a huge black waterbug.
I went under. Just sank. My heart pounding and jumping out of my chest, I gulped water in silent, slow-motion terror. When I came back up, I was screaming—loud, hysterical, horror movie-caliber screaming. Have you ever been to an indoor pool? The acoustics are wonderful. The half-asleep lifeguard fell out of his chair, jumped up and fell into the pool. The other swimmers jerked their heads up, like bird dogs looking for prey—surprised and alert.
I pulled up and was out of the pool in an instant. Secretly, I've been practicing this move for some time. It is no easy trick to pull up and climb out in one smooth motion and look good doing it. Until today, it hadn't been going well, as I am not exactly agile to begin with. But luckily, no one is ever there to watch—just the lonely guy, the lifeguard and a couple of elderly Chinese ladies. This time, however, it was different. I flew. Not exactly like a fish, and not like a bird either. A rocket, maybe. Anyway, you get the picture—I was magnificent! Sadly, I now have two water-related phobias—dead bodies and waterbugs.
OMG! I remember seeing a huge black bug near the edge of that pool during our swim class. I can completely relate to your adventure this morning, except nothing ever *crawled* on me, eeek!
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I know, it's unthinkable. This is stuff my nightmares are made of. I can ignore all the roaches running around when I turn on the light in the locker room (frequently, I am the first one there), but this was too much. If the pool weren't two blocks away from my apartment, I'd be someplace else already. As it is, I pick the price and convenience over, well, my desire to have a decent place to swim.
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