I really like to be in water. I know other people who also feel this way. My cousin does. When my great aunt and uncle died, she used her inheritance to build a lap pool and a beach house. I am not a master swimmer by any means but it’s been my thing maybe since I was a teenager- my place to go- to decompress - before I even knew what that word meant. It’s a kind of meditation. And when I am done, I am wrung out in the best way possible. It sets me straight. Resets my clock. I can tell you all the pools I have been in across the United States, from my hometown (the Jewish Community Center DEEP BLUE pool with the tree outside with names attached to the branches of donors) to college (the big cold competitive pool at the U of Iowa) to living in Brooklyn (the Williamsburg pool where I swam with the Hassidic women on Tuesday mornings), to San Francisco (where I swam laps in the outdoor community pool in North Beach) to Santa Fe (where I was able to use my hippie friend’s guitar shaped pool in the foothills). And at the Hollywood YMCA when I was pregnant, I would just float in that pool with all the other mothers to be. There are more too. So many more.
But since COVID I had been waiting for my most recently most used and yet nondescript pool to re-open- the pool at the college where I had worked for 10 years, and when it finally did, the news of the re-opening coincided with the news of my self imposed retirement from that place. So my key had been de-activated.
Lakes and oceans are good too, wonderful actually, when I am on vacation, here and there, but in a regular way, a pool will suffice.
So I was in the midst of moving one county over anyway & decided just to find a new place to swim when I arrived this summer. I say swim but really of late it has turned into just doing exercises in the water. My shoulders, knees and hips have all inherited my father’s crippling arthritis and I can’t really call it swimming anymore. Nonetheless, I crave it when it is absent from my routine. Finally I found the place. A state of the art aquatic center following social distancing precautions in a reasonable way, charging money, but not too much, a bit of a drive, but seemed worth it, and an extra pool for people like me who are “not really swimming”. I can’t tell you how excited I was. Maybe exited is the wrong word. I just thought - ok- getting my life back on track- this was a missing piece of the puzzle.
But when I arrived last week, the woman working behind the desk recognized me from elementary school. (!) and as if she had been waiting for me her whole life, she just wouldn’t or couldn’t stop talking to me. I don’t believe we were in the same grade, but yes, the same school. And I wouldn’t have recognized her face but her name, yes. And I would have been happy to catch up in theory, but my pool time was reserved and the clock was ticking. Finally I was able to get out of the conversation and into the water. She followed me in and continued to chat away while I was exercising. Even when I became sort of non- responsive. Even when I moved to the other end of the pool. Even when I said. “I like to exercise in the water as a meditation, but I’d be happy to talk more later” I am sure I sounded like the biggest asshole. She finally gave up on me and struck up a conversation with the woman one lane over and I could tell by their banter that they chatted regularly. So they were talking back and forth over my head. I asked if the woman would like to switch lanes so I wasn’t in the middle of their conversation. She declined. I found a way to continue my water movement in the far corner of the pool.
It would have been so perfect there. The windows were floor to ceiling. I was imagining how beautiful it would be in winter. As soon as I got out, the “friend”(tho really we didn’t know one another) from elementary school found me again. But there is a sometimes not really earned over familiarity with those who have sort of shared a past with us. She wanted to know what street I lived on. Telling her my neighborhood wasn’t enough. She wanted the street name. Was I a renter or did I own? I didn’t want to be sized up in this way. I am a single mother on a modest budget and am acutely aware what side of town we live in. Her husband though is kind of a famous in these parts artist and I was sure they “owned” in the “good” part of town. I tried to be polite. I tried to show interest in her to get the spotlight OFF OF ME. She wasn’t good a reading social queues. She didn’t get to shape her life how she wanted. I got that much. She was hiding in the limelight of her husband’s success and was doing a part time job of a college kid. Signing people in and out of the pool in beige shorts and a tie-dye t-shirt. Was she lonely? Was I being rude?
As I squished off to my car in the parking lot (no locker room use available) I knew I would never return there. Price too high. Just wanted to be in the water. I imagined having to navigate this intrusion every time and felt pissed off. She called out to me even after I was over 10 feet away- maybe I would want to take a class from her sometime? I shouted back, I usually just like to do my own thing in the pool, but thanks!” I got on my laptop when I was back home. I found a privately run swimming school for kids with their own pool where they let people do lap swim during non lesson time. It's actually closer to my house and less money than the other place. There are dolphins painted all over the walls but I’m ok with that.
