Also, three times, Mr F lost his swim trunks, because he is too skinny for them even though they have a drawstring and they fall off him as they swim. The first time, I noticed because he climbed out of the water and he was stark butt naked and I couldn't even find the trunks, which sunk to the bottom of the pool and then drifted to the deeper end, and which were blue, so he had to wear my t-shirt as a toga while I found them.
Luckily, we had the entire pool and pool area to ourselves, probably because it's a cloudy day and not that hot.
While I swam, I tried to think of famous mythological heroes who swam -- a sort of inspirational tactic that I was trying out today, only I couldn't think of any, other than maybe Ulysses, who probably swam at some point. Or Jason; Jason had a boat and so he probably went for a dip or two, but I didn't know for sure.
So when I sat down to type this up, I thought "I'm going to look up a famous swimmer in mythology," and what I came up with is the Wikipedia page on John Cheever's story The Swimmer, which summarizes the story as this:
The story begins with Neddy Merrill and his wife lounging at a friend's pool on a mid-summer's day. On a whim, Neddy decides to get home by swimming across all the pools in the county, and starts off enthusiastically and full of youthful energy. In the early stops on his journey, he is enthusiastically greeted by friends, who welcome him with drinks. It is readily apparent that he is well-regarded and from an upper-class social standing.
Midway through his journey, things gradually take on a darker and ultimately surreal tone. Despite everything taking place over just one afternoon, it becomes unclear how much time has passed. At the beginning of the story, it was clearly mid-summer, but by the end all natural signs point to the season being autumn. Different people Neddy encounters mention misfortune and money troubles he doesn't remember, and he is outright unwelcome at several houses which should've certainly been beneath him. His earlier, youthful energy leaves him, and it becomes increasingly painful and difficult for him to swim on. Finally, he staggers back home, only to find his house decrepit, empty, and abandoned.
I won $5 from PT Dilloway's blog the other day, and I am going to use it to buy that story.
Today's workout: Swimming, 24 laps, 14:00.
Latest Weight: 253
Today's song that I mentioned on my other blog and then went and listened to 'cause it's a really good song:
Iko Iko, by The Belle Stars:
That's a really good song to have in your head as you swim, because if you forget the words, you can just make up your own:
My left arm and your left arm
Getting really tired
My left arm said to your left arm
"Have you seen that show The Wire"
And keep going.
Also, I now have three different pools I swim in, depending on the day and whether Mr F wants to be with me and whether old ladies are aquajazzercising, and they're all different lengths. The one today is the longest of the three. Each time I swim, I up the count one lap, until I reach at least 20 minutes of swimming. Given that the pools are different lengths, I decided that I'd just stick with the same number of laps, and if I happen to end up in the shorter pool, well, that's an easy day for me.
But today was hard.