When you can snatch the pebble from my hand…

Lessons in Patience number Deux

Following my ever faithful training plan, the idea was simple.

Get to the pool, do the required number of laps and reps and be done with the day.

Skinny fast looking chick is there. Someone like Rachel or Rocketpants. You know the type. They just ‘LOOK’ fast. Somehow without actually moving they seem faster than you will ever be.

Then I watched her. She is fast and good. Good form, smooth movement. I'm impressed.

Add to that the plethora of goodies she brought to the pool: Fins; Paddles; buoy. WOW!

F.O.C.U.S.

It’s not about her; it’s about you and your technique. It’s about YOUR workout.

Inevitably, like all pool mates, we are at the same wall at the same time.

F.O.C.US. This is not a race, this is not a competition.

This worked...Really it did.

For the first few hundred times.

OK. One time! One 'race' can't hurt right?!

She pushes off the wall, completely oblivious to my existence, but I know. I know that if I can just stay even with her or beat her to the wall, then…well…I don’t know…I’m ‘good’ right. I w-i-n? (I'm not competitive in the least, I tell you).

We push off together – Damn, she is fast – she looks like she’s hardly moving – Wait, what are those things on her hands? – I’ll be damned, she’s using paddles! – God, this is the longest lap e.v.e.r - look, there’s the flags – Finally, the wall.

I beat her! I beat her!

Umm…how come she’s doing the flip turn thing? Doesn’t she know that it’s over?

NO. She doesn’t know it’s over. In fact she goes on for another few laps. Then she practices without the paddles. Then she does laps with fins. Then she does laps without the fins. Then she…

I don’t know…
I left. Tail between my legs.
Hit the showers.


Patience.