Y’all know that I only write a blog post if I experience one
of three conditions:
1) Something A-M-A-Z-I-N-G
2) a complete fitness catastrophe or
3) a
tiny fit of rage.
Well, you are in for a treat. Winner, winner, #3! I may have
had a tiny fit of rage. Make that a huge fit of rage. Okay, a meltdown of epic
proportions.
I left work early today so that I could make it to the gym
for a swim before Silver Sneakers Water Aerobics. On the way, I stopped to get
birthday and Mother’s Day gifts, being the loving, caring person that I am. I
even went to Wal-Mart (thanks to Ms. April). I guess there is no such thing as
a quick trip to the superstore, so I arrived to the gym at 5:00 pm, exactly an
hour before the aerobics class. Well in time to get in a 30 minute swim. Or so
I thought…
All the swim lanes were full and there were two swimmers
ahead of me. I sat there at the side of the pool twirling my goggles as the
minutes slowly crept past. It was
finally my turn – I was in the front of the line and I sensed the guy in the
far lane slowing down. By that time there were two people in line after me. The
guy stopped at the shallow end just as another guy walked in to the pool area.
They exchanged the “bro” nod and the guy (who had not waited AT ALL, nor had he
even showered off, disgusting) jumped into the lane. The guy who just finished
looked at me with a mischievous smile and shrugged. Oh hell no…nobody’s got
time for that!
It all happened so fast, and I honestly didn’t realize I
could move that fast. In a flash, I leapt up from the side of the pool, running
at a full sprint to the other end, arms flailing about, screaming and yelling that
it was my turn. I know, it is embarrassing that I was acting like a five year
old, but there were only 30 minutes before the oldies exercise and I was damn
sure going to get my swim on. After I had told him (several times) that I had
waited 30 minutes, there were people waiting even after me, and he was NOT
taking my lane, he responded, “Well, I will share with you.” For some reason,
that pushed me over the edge. I responded, rather obnoxiously, that “No, it is
my lane. I will share with you. I was here first. Everyone saw you skip the line." Then under my breath, but in a semi-audible mumble, "Don't be a jackass."
I thought I was clear enough and that he would go wait in
line. No, he kept his Speedo ass in my lane and just started swimming. Well,
not to be undone, I made a point to swim as fast as he did the ENTIRE 30
minutes. 24 laps at a full sprint. Holy crap, mother of God, I am exhausted. I
half expect to get a letter in the mail from the gym asking me politely to
never come back. But you know, in the end, it was totally worth it. I was
able to assert my self (even if to no avail), while being pushed to my exercise limits. Maybe I
should ask him to be my triathlon training partner. I could get so much done.
