A quick addition to my first post about swimming in Amsterdam’s overcrowded pools … Swim rage!
This evening I was down at my pool doing my session. I’d done my warm up, drills, and was starting my first of five 200m efforts.
I was the only girl swimming in the “fast” lane. I looked around me at the guys with big shoulders, looking down at me (when you see my shoulders, it’s clear swimming is not my strongest leg on a triathlon!). They looked like they were wondering what I was doing there, but I was confident I could keep up. I shrugged, and commenced.
40 metres – bam – my first toe tap. No, no one was tapping my toes, I was tapping toes of one of the big shouldered guys in front. I tapped once, moved back a tad, and waited til we hit the end of the pool. He stopped to let me pass.
115 metres – bam – I tapped another guy’s toes. We finished the lap … and he continued on. Hmm… This was frustrating. I stayed in his wake, and as we neared 150 metres, I tapped his toes a couple times more.
150 metres – at the end of the lap, the guy just turned around, and started swimming again. What? He wasn’t going to let me through? In frustration I screamed under water, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
I turned, and it was on. Bam – bam – bam. This was no longer toe tapping. This was ankle tapping. Respect pool etiquette, dude!
Suddenly the guy stopped, stood up and looked down at me. Perhaps he was expecting me to stop so he could have a go at me. I pulled ahead. He jumped right on my tail, and tapped my ankles – hard.
“You wanna play this game?” I thought. “You can’t – slow poke!” I took off, and by the time I finished my 200 metres I was almost 10 meters ahead of him. What a jerk! At least he didn’t decide to stop and have a go at me. Speed always wins:)