7and8

On Monday I went to the pool to join in on a swim fitness class. I didn't know what to expect but I heard it would help me shave time off of my swim for the next tri. After all I was one of the fastest in the pool on Sunday and maybe I'd have pity on those in the class who weren't as gifted as I (insert self assured chuckle).

I go in to the pool area on Monday night and see 3 guys with chests thick as a bull. Slick looking guys, men's men. I was intimidated. I asked one of them (Al) if he was there for the same class as myself. I thought he said yes, and he proceeds to tell me about how his wife was in a class once and they would swim 2,000 yards per work out. She must be part fish and much tougher than me. My fast swim time the day before melts before my eyes and my pride shrivels up like that one cat who just got out of the pool.

Two of the thick chested monsters proceed me to our area of the pool, joke with the instructor and jump in and start doing laps. I stand there next to dad, a shorter version of my father (old man with more beer belly than a lions convention) look at the white board and I realize that I'm in the 2,000 yard class that astounded me minutes before.

I look across the pool and Al is in the shallow end with a bunch of old ladies in a how-to-swim class. Two minutes later I've tried the warm-up laps and stand panting on the deck wondering how quickly I can leave, maybe if I pretend I have to puke. The instructor talks me back into the pool and the evening ended well. It turns out that everyone in the class has been in this class for a while. Dad did a few laps and was hating life just as much as I was when we went into the locker room.

I walked in on Wednesday night knowing my talents lie somewhere between Al and dad. It's funny how a little bit of pride can make one feel like such a chump.