Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!
Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.
What we’re curious about – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’ ?
It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?
Well, can it?
It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.
When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.
Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.
Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.
It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap swimmer.
love the random thoughts!
The random is to be celebrated Beth, even…exalted, I say!
Always stand in AWE of all your posts!
Diana Louise Webb
USA
“Michael Phelps when he was four” LOL That’s kinda sad. Oh, the wandering, weaving paths the mind goes down. It’s funny, the one about wondering if having a heart attack would be worse than getting rescued by a teen-aged lifeguard. Well, I can tell you that the second part IS worse, at least in my particular situation, when hubby demanded that I have a mole looked at. A mole that was not easily accessible. Let’s say I was basically sitting on it all day long! So then I go in for the appointment and who walks into the room? A guy who looked like he was 14–evidently a doctor–who then asked to see the mole, which of course involved lowering my jeans and bending over slightly. O.M.G., Glen. THE WORST! lol The absolute worst.
Oh my!
I would find consulting a 14-year-old looking doctor about ANYTHING humbling.
I’d like to say I’m gradually getting used to accepting the fact that 70% of my co-workers, and in fact staff of just about any place I frequent anywhere, are now fully HALF my age but that would be, at least in part, a bald-faced, no-good lie.