laps

I push my way slowly across the pool; a slow, easy breast stroke in nineteen strokes on my first lap. The water temperature is a perfect 82 degrees. I’m thinking about what I will eat for lunch. I know what I’ll find in the refrigerator when I get home & I’m composing the menu. I reach the other end of the pool and switch to freestyle for the second lap. Slowly, I stretch one arm forward, then the other, while flipping my body side to side; my head comes out for air every other stroke. On good days I can do the length of the pool in 7 ½ strokes; today it takes me 9, but it doesn’t matter. Swimming for 45 minutes is all that matters. Poached chicken thighs, salad with green onion and red pepper, steamed kale.

The next two lengths are freestyle; my kick is slow, almost melodic; someone told me i swim like a mermaid. I follow the black line at the bottom of the pool. I’ll splash some olive oil on the kale & squeeze on some fresh lemon juice. For the fifth lap I flip over on my back for an easy back stroke. I push off with both feet and glide through the water working my knees, making my way up the pool while staring up at the ceiling. I can practically taste the tender chicken which I’ll heat in its broth.

Switch back to freestyle. I only do backstroke on laps that have the number 5 in them: 5, 15, 25, 35, & breast stroke on laps number 1, 11, 21, 31. When I swim a lap with the number 7 in it I turn to look at the mosaic tile design on one of the pillars beside the pool that says, “7.” I don’t know why it’s there or what it means.

My friend Patrick taught me how to swim 4 years ago & I'm eternally grateful to him for it. Friends are more precious than gold. Patrick's a good cook too & has great taste in restaurants. It’s not surprising that my friends’ eating habits are pretty much like mine. Not one of them eats fast food. We all buy fresh, cook at home & only eat in restaurants on special occasions. My friends & I love to cook for each other. A meal at any of my friends’ homes is better than any restaurant anywhere.

Moving through water is hypnotic, the strokes automatic; back & forth 40 times in the pool with nothing to do but think. I think of scooping up egg-less tofu salad with chunks of fresh, crisp red pepper, sprinkled with coarse salt & black pepper; a nice snack I can eat standing up. In winter I love crunchy curly endive salad with chopped green onion, good olive oil & a splash of balsamic vinegar. I don’t like winter tomatoes or cucumbers, though.

The 19th. length has some mystical meaning for me. It means I’ve done a good bit of swimming already, much more than I thought I could do when I first climbed down into the pool this morning & wondered if I could swim any laps at all. It’s always that way, & then 19 laps. Wow! Good for me.

The 36th. lap is a religious experience. Number 36 is the Hebrew equivalent of “life.” I think, when I complete it, I’ve done something wonderful that will guarantee a good life.

By now my pace has quickened; kicking is stronger, arm strokes longer; I glide more. On Friday I will go to the Korean market & load up on fresh vegetables & salads. Also check out the fresh fish. Last week I brought home a fresh steamed crab for lunch. Ate it straight from the plastic bag in which I whacked it with a hammer to crack the shell.

Was that lap 38? Already? It’s coming up now. 40 laps are on the way. So is lunch. I sprint across the pool in 7 ½ strokes. I’d like to bake some fresh mackerel this week, which I know they always have at the market. With sliced onions, stuffed with pesto and…

btw: this is NOT me, I assure you.
it's the guy in the next lane.

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