Unfit 12 - The Disheartened Salmon

It's pretty disheartening to see how quickly one loses one's fitness levels. Two and a half month's ago I was swimming 3.5km a day and it was a breeze - except for the day we swam into a gale force wind and the waves were pretty dramatic - and today I'm swimming 1.5km and struggling.

I am in training for the Dis-chem Sun City Swim and had forgotten how much you heat up when you're swimming faster than the average amoeba and how infuriating it is when your goggles mist up (or is it eyeball sweat?).  Compound this with my heavily-tinted sunglasses and swimming becomes very interesting especially if you're sharing a lane. Ghostly shapes loom out of the dark waters like the mythical creature in the pool at the bottom of Howick Falls (but with less teeth) and I have had to become pretty good at swerving out of the way at the last minute to avoid head-on collisions.

The pool at our gym is in the process of being renovated, so I have been forced to other waters. When I did my usual 'let me get in the pool quickly before anyone notices the whale in a Speedo' scuttle and leap into the pool, I quickly discovered two things: it was way colder and way deeper. Once I had recovered from the coughing attack due swallowing more than triple the RDA of chlorine, I set off. Up, down, up, down, and by about the 20th lap on the down swim it felt like I was swimming so slowly that I may, in fact, be going backwards. 

I did a quick check to see that my arms were still moving and carried on feeling more than a little despondent at the deterioration of my swimming skills. The next time I went, I was in the same lane and set off with teeth gritted in determination and a stiff upper lip (not a good look) and it happened again.  About lap 10 I realized why that lane was generally empty. It was the one with the jets which meant I was effectively swimming upstream on my back swim.

I carried on swimming, making extra efforts on the back swim to try and counteract the effect of the riptide. By lap 40, with the sweat positively dripping off my eyeballs, I suddenly realised what it must be like to be a salmon. You swim, leap a rapid, swim, leap another rapid, miss the grizzly bear, leap a rapid, swim round a rock, dodge another claw leap a rapid. And for what? No medal, no sexy Mrs Salmon waiting to have her fishy way with you - just certain death. I could quite understand why some choose to leap straight into the grizzly's mouth. After all, who wants die in a pool of sperm and eggs? No-one who would admit to it in polite company anyway. 

Unfit 11 - the swim continues

Now that reality has returned and I'm no longer basking in the glow of sunburn, I decided to keep swimming and signed up for the Dischem Sun City swim. 

I entered the 1 500m swim and not a week later came the news that Cameron van der Burgh was joining me on the swim.  He's probably just checking out the competition - although I think he should remember we're in different categories. He's going to have to pick up his game (and weight) if he's going to get into my league.  Then it was Roger Finch and Sam Cowen joining too. Clearly I've ruffled a few bathing caps in the swimming world but, hey, that's how I roll. Literally.

I went to swim last night and because I sweetly gave my sister my other goggles (I persuaded her to do the 600m fun swim), I swam in my tinted/mirror ones. They are great when the sun is streaming into the pool but it's quite disconcerting at night. Even with the pool lights, the water is almost black and I confess to having swum into the wall a few times. Like I don't need the extra humiliation.

I looked on enviously as little people got coached on how to breathe properly without corkscrewing their bodies completely. Maybe I'll have to invest in a couple of lessons so that my back doesn't go into spasm after every swim. And, oh, for ear plugs that don't leak.