The community pool installed an electronic ticketing machine complete with tyvek wrist/leg bands that became a required fashion accessory two weeks ago. I have been swimming at the pool for almost a month now. This week I upped my lap count from 10 to 11 so I will swim a mile every week until I up it again. I learned a new danish word, “hurtigbane” several weeks ago from a thirty-something Dane. I had neglected to notice that one of the open lanes was marked hurtigbane. He was annoyed that I was swimming too slow for his taste in the “hurtigbane,” the fast lane. He did insult me because I wasn’t swimming any slower than I normally swim, which is not a bad pace for someone my age. Anyway, I moved to another lane only to watch him and his friend proceed to swim half a lap faster than I usually do only to then stop and chitter-chatter for ten minutes. Go figure.
Since then, I’ve avoided swimming in the hurtigbane lane despite the presence of some rather poor swimmers in the other lanes. Today, the pool was crowded for some reason – perhaps the brilliant sunshine encouraged more folks to go to the pool?
I started doing my laps. Now, I try to time when I start and when I take a break to make sure there’s enough separation between me and the next person so I don’t interfere with them and they with me. I felt good and pretty strong and managed to do four laps in no time at all. Then the lifeguard came over to talk to me. He started out in Danish, as expected, and told me I had to move to the fast lane. I got the gist of what he said though for my own pleasure I asked him to repeat it in English. I was swimming faster than everyone else in the pool and consequently needed to move to the fast lane. I explained my reasons and he remarked, yeah but it depends on who’s in the pool and today you’re the fast one. I swam the remainder of my laps in the hurtigbane.
Sometimes the bear eats you and sometimes you eat the bear. Chalk one up for me.
The sauna felt much cooler than it really was after that.
