Pool Personalities: Different Strokes for Different Folks

 

natatorium - noun - an indoor swimming pool

To keep in shape as a sexagenarian (I like the look and sound of this one), along with numerous others of miscellaneous ages, I swim almost three miles a week at the local health club's natatorium, a word that I've known for years but can usually never remember. (Thank goodness it doesn't come up at cocktail parties.) Three days a week, I am usually fighting to find a lane for myself. I'm usually lucky, but when I'm not and have to wait, I spend the minutes watching how other people swim. Since no one stroke for anyone is executed in exactly the same way, it is quite amusing to see just how many personal styles there are. Believe me, there are multitudinous pool personalities, different strokes for different folks.

For one, men swim differently then women, generally–and not surprisingly–more aggressively. In my experience as an observer, when most men hit the water to swim freestyle, they proceed to hit the water– literally, unintentionally (maybe) slapping it with open palms so that swimmers in other lanes get splashed in the face. If you happen to enjoy keeping your head above water (good advice in and out of the pool), then you can't escape the brutal spray, which, I would imagine, might be comparable to swimming laps in the Olympic-size fountain at the Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas. Not fun. However, whenever the younger men who sport Speedos, wide, V-like shoulders, and six-pack abs approach the tank, you can bet they spent time swimming competitively. These men are perfect physically and are a joy to swim beside as they don't pound angrily. They alternate their arms, forming smooth arcs at the base of which are hands that dip quietly into the water, their legs beating out the right rhythm to guarantee forward moment with minimum wake. Ah! They are the sons of Neptune himself. A joy to observe and swoon over. (Too bad they don't come along too frequently.)

The women swimmers, on the other hand, can be idiosyncratic. For instance, there is one very petite Asian woman, a regular as I am, who likes to do the backstroke. Yet her stroke is more like that used in ballet. Her alternating arms move in slow motion to silent orchestration, her hands are splayed and her thumbs and forefingers, touching, like those of a plastic baby doll's. She doesn't get across the pool rapidly, but she composes her own aquatic poetry. Other women, the ones in my age group, tend to bring props like flippers and masks, noodles and such into the pool. They make me feel like I am on the beach at a resort hotel in the Caribbean, watching people snorkel among the shallow reefs. (I hope the club isn't thinking about making the pool into a salt water tank for colorful fish as it is kept healthy via bromide.) Perhaps these women at a young age were inspired by Aphrodite or Calypso albeit I can't imagine either in snorkel gear. 

Although I am not an athlete, I can still remember what I learned in fourth grade when our gym class had the unique pleasure of taking swimming classes at the local pool, conveniently located next door to our elementary school so that we could walk to the outdoor natatorium in June just before the end of the school year. I try to practice good pool etiquette when I can; however, I must admit that I disregard all signage that insists that swimmers take showers before diving into the pool. I have noticed that most people do ignore the signs. I guess we are rebels without much of a cause other than to get in and out of the pool sooner than later to free up lanes for others. After all, unselfishness is amphibious. I'd like to think so anyway.

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