So the community pool is open again (and the weather behaved itself this weekend, allowing us to go on Saturday and Monday), and now I feel as if everything's right with the world. At least until Labor Day.
As my husband and I were heading into the pool area for the first time on Saturday morning to pick out our lounge chairs, I said "Y'know, I actually dreamed about this place over the winter." That earned me one strange look from him. But can you blame me? This was a miserably cold winter in which I think I was sick more than I was healthy; no wonder that my subconscious was fixated on being outdoors, being warm, and having fun.
And there's no comparison between the lap pool at the rec center and our community pool. The lap pool is All Business; the neighborhood pool is sun, warmth and the scent of sunscreen. I like swimming and I was grateful to have the indoor pool after our community pool closed last season, but I can't see using anything but the rec center's gym until September. I do use the lap lanes at the neighborhood pool, but I like the ability to just swim under the ropes and then float around on my back in the water, or do a few underwater handstands if I'm feeling especially goofy.
And then there's the diving board. I started out my pool experience this summer pretty much the way I ended it last summer: by going off the diving board several times. That's something else you can't do in the rec center's lap pool; the diving boards are always blocked off and appear to be for swim meets only.
Being a grownup at the pool rocks. We happened to show up during Adult Swim on Saturday, and while the kids had to line up at the diving board and look grumpy while waiting for the lifeguard to blow the whistle, I just breezed by them and dove, dove, dove. I think diving -- sailing through the air on my way to the water and then feeling the water buoy me back up to the surface -- must be about as close as I'll ever get to feeling as if I can fly.
Yeah. It was fun. Boy, did I miss all that.
However, I do think I may have solved the mystery of why anyone in their right mind would attempt to hit on me while I'm wearing a bathing suit. My suit is apparently more decorative than athletic and wasn't designed to stand up to the rigors of vigorous lap swimming. I'd noticed that it was getting increasingly transparent along the side seams; it doesn't show too much and I'm still more covered than anyone wearing a two-piece, so I didn't particularly care about that.
I didn't think about the fact that there's a third seam running right over my backside. Or that the fabric around that seam would start getting transparent too.
Until this weekend, when I happened to glance at my rear view in the mirror while I was wearing the suit.
Oh. Oh dear. The view wasn't downright obscene -- just flesh, no particularly interesting bits visible -- but I'd call it "PG-13."
Memo to self: Friday night, we're heading out to search for a new suit. So put down that raspberry scone.