(“New” bag from Consigning Women – need a punch of pink for summer on Cape Cod!)
My pool venue ended on May 25th at the Bayside Resort – winter-season-only-don’t-you-know! It forced me into a pool finding frenzy and now I have it – the mostly perfect location for my 60-plus minute daily swims. With the new venue, this is what I now enjoy: an oversized indoor pool; generous hours including weekends; available year round; no black out times; life guard always on duty; towels provided both poolside and in the shower area; spa quality showers including spa products for member use; reasonable rate; and last but not least — the kids are scarce and DO stay out of the two, dedicated, ADULT ONLY swimming lanes!!! (fanfare playing softly)
life on hold
~waiting for some unknown thing~
now to begin anew
I recently bought a membership to a local hotel pool. I typically swim five days each week. I have an ongoing idea that I will speak of my troubles to a stranger at the pool. Will it be the front desk clerk? A fellow swimmer? Perhaps even the owner? Many people tell their stories to a stranger. Why not me? I can’t shake the notion that someone will have the answers I seek. Someone will have just the right words to reassure me about my son enlisting in the Marines.
I joined the pool soon after he signed the contract. I am not an especially energetic person by nature. I suddenly felt kinetic. Live-wired. Unable to unwind or dissipate. I simply had to find mindless activities to take me out of my head. I chose knitting and swimming. In the early days of swimming, I would simply count endlessly and silently to push any panic thoughts out of mind. I started with 90 minutes of activity in the pool. At times, it boarded on frantic. After working all day, then swimming like that, I can usually fall asleep at night. During the moments in a day that typically offer “down time” I decide to use knitting to fill the void and deflect any remaining stray thoughts.
As I finish my swim this evening, I notice the water looks slightly milky. Probably from the salts shed by the many bodies. Or it may be a pool of tears. I have certainly shed many into the deep waters here. I also notice oil droplets floating on the surface as I make ripples with each stroke. The pool’s aqua blue color adds a special touch to the overall effect. Nothing will dissuade me from this moving meditation. At the same time, I think of the six adult bodies currently sharing a bath in the place they call “the spa.” I have the pool to myself and feel grateful.
Just as I exit the water and head for the shower, a woman steps in before me. It is a single use room. I grab my bag and head for the men’s room. After all, the outside door locks and there are no men present. I shower quickly, exit the men’s room and no one seems to care.