A swim suit's a swim suit, right? Wrong. And though I am an undergraduate in matters of swimming gear, I will give you a few tips.
-Do not buy a Lycra or nylon suit if you want it to last AT ALL. It feels nice, yes, but it lasts for precious little usage. For example, I began wearing a nice black nylon suit on...Tuesday of last week. Well, let's just say that it is a good thing that I wear three suits, because come Wednesday this week, it was transparent in some very embarassing places. Now, nylon has it's advantages, as does its cousin Lycra. But these are only when you are racing; they create less drag. However, it does not belong in practice or in general use.
-Always get polyester suits for durability (i.e. practice and general use). They last much longer. In fact, they outlast their seams! Example: my recently retired suit that I got last year, around this time. Wonderful polyester-ness. Ahhhh. It only started to have issues two weeks ago, when the thread holding it together started to die. If only I were a seamstress, perhaps I could have saved it. Alas, I cannot. But it did its best. It fell in service (again, rest assured that I am wearing multiple suits, otherwise this sounds horrid).
On the matter of goggles I will give you no advice except this: do not begin with Swedish goggles. They hurt. Work up to them slowly.
And now my attention span has expired, so I will not present discourses on caps, fins, and paddles, let alone pull-buoys (this is where Amaya sighs gratefully).
Friday, September 30, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Yeesh.
Why must people be touchy-feely? Why can't I just have my space? Holy cow! If you want to give me a heart attack, come at me from behind with a hug. If you want to kill me, pay a guy on the swim team to come at me from the side and hug me right after I swim the 100 yard butterfly. I nearly drowned. 2 -- I think that's the number I gave him -- is one of those people who thinks hugs are cool. That's fine, just don't share your coolness with me without ample warning. With ample warning, I can handle it. But he didn't give me any! Just because he had been finished with his 100 for twenty seconds before I got to the final wall doesn't mean he has a right to creep me out like that. Yikes. If there hadn't been a very large lane line between us, there would have been pain.
Aside from that, the annual swimming training trip was much fun. The Animal Set was very hard, as usual, but I did quite well. For those of you who don't know (i.e. all of you), the Animal Set is basically a team-wide competition. We swim four one-hundreds on a fairly easy time, then after those far we lower the time by five seconds. We follow this pattern until we can't make the time. Then we drop out of the competition. Last man standing wins. My cold didn't exactly help any, nor did the added altitude, but it was okay.
Aside from that, the annual swimming training trip was much fun. The Animal Set was very hard, as usual, but I did quite well. For those of you who don't know (i.e. all of you), the Animal Set is basically a team-wide competition. We swim four one-hundreds on a fairly easy time, then after those far we lower the time by five seconds. We follow this pattern until we can't make the time. Then we drop out of the competition. Last man standing wins. My cold didn't exactly help any, nor did the added altitude, but it was okay.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Literary Genius?
Apparently I have some literary genius...somewhere. Here's a portion of the prologue for my latest writing endeavor: Blanchette. Please forgive any mangling of the French language. I blame Babel Fish.
_____________________
Oh, how I wish my mother could have held her tongue! Now look at me! All because I refused to marry that dreadful little man that calls himself King of the Dwarves. But now I've ceased to make sense.
I suppose I am meant to be comforted by the presence of so many others in states similar to mine, but it only makes me more frustrated and depressed. What malicious being fairies are!
I sit back on my haunches and lick a paw, trying to calm myself. In some ways, it does, but in others it disgusts me and lowers my mood even farther. I pause, hearing someone coming across the grass of the castle's courtyard.
A tall, lanky tabby cat catches sight of me, almost as though he is looking for me, and approaches, bowing low. "Supper is prepared, lady." A pleasant grin adorns his feline features.
I wonder at his ability to be glad in his current predicament. Perhaps the enchantment has made him forget what has happened. Regardless, the condition was brought upon by my stubbornness. It almost makes me cry. I draw my breath deep and take his proffered paw; I know he means me no harm, even if I have not met him before this moment. He leads me into the castle and to an elegant dining room decorated with tapestries depicting all manner of cat heroes. Featured prominently is the crafty fellow Puss in Boots, but quite frankly his profile makes me want to vomit.
The long table is set for one with the most exquisite dishes I've ever seen, but I hardly notice them. The plate is empty as the tabby pulls back the cushioned chair for me. Not wanting to appear ungrateful to him, I sit. The chair is not uncomfortable, but I want to find something wrong with it.
A black cat with a bloated belly and a milky patch over one eye struts into the room carrying a gleaming silver dish. He places it before me and, with a flourish, removes the lid. The scent of the course tickles my whiskers and my stomach growls. I haven't eaten in at least twelve hours. I nod dolefully to the chef and pick up a spoon. The utensil is awkward in my paw, but I try to use it anyway.
"Vous appréciez, madam," the chef cat says before bowing away.
The dish before me smells delicious and the tabby hovers over my shoulder, so I eat. Though I think that the meal must be superb, I fail to taste it. I swallow without chewing much and I try to eat quickly. The tabby's presence makes me nervous. He doesn't move and he doesn't turn his head. I don't think he even blinks while watching me. I think he must have been a military man before...before...
_____________________________
And cut!
_____________________
Oh, how I wish my mother could have held her tongue! Now look at me! All because I refused to marry that dreadful little man that calls himself King of the Dwarves. But now I've ceased to make sense.
I suppose I am meant to be comforted by the presence of so many others in states similar to mine, but it only makes me more frustrated and depressed. What malicious being fairies are!
I sit back on my haunches and lick a paw, trying to calm myself. In some ways, it does, but in others it disgusts me and lowers my mood even farther. I pause, hearing someone coming across the grass of the castle's courtyard.
A tall, lanky tabby cat catches sight of me, almost as though he is looking for me, and approaches, bowing low. "Supper is prepared, lady." A pleasant grin adorns his feline features.
I wonder at his ability to be glad in his current predicament. Perhaps the enchantment has made him forget what has happened. Regardless, the condition was brought upon by my stubbornness. It almost makes me cry. I draw my breath deep and take his proffered paw; I know he means me no harm, even if I have not met him before this moment. He leads me into the castle and to an elegant dining room decorated with tapestries depicting all manner of cat heroes. Featured prominently is the crafty fellow Puss in Boots, but quite frankly his profile makes me want to vomit.
The long table is set for one with the most exquisite dishes I've ever seen, but I hardly notice them. The plate is empty as the tabby pulls back the cushioned chair for me. Not wanting to appear ungrateful to him, I sit. The chair is not uncomfortable, but I want to find something wrong with it.
A black cat with a bloated belly and a milky patch over one eye struts into the room carrying a gleaming silver dish. He places it before me and, with a flourish, removes the lid. The scent of the course tickles my whiskers and my stomach growls. I haven't eaten in at least twelve hours. I nod dolefully to the chef and pick up a spoon. The utensil is awkward in my paw, but I try to use it anyway.
"Vous appréciez, madam," the chef cat says before bowing away.
The dish before me smells delicious and the tabby hovers over my shoulder, so I eat. Though I think that the meal must be superb, I fail to taste it. I swallow without chewing much and I try to eat quickly. The tabby's presence makes me nervous. He doesn't move and he doesn't turn his head. I don't think he even blinks while watching me. I think he must have been a military man before...before...
_____________________________
And cut!
Monday, September 12, 2005
Family
The swim team is my family away from family. We discussed this today in the sauna (sauna talk will, by far, be the most random things I come up with; most of it won't make it to my blog for shame at the randomity). We see each other at our worst; we get annoyed out of our minds with each other; we see each other all the time; and we forgive each other in a maximum of about three days for any annoyances or frustrations. We discussed how certain people tick us off frequently, yet somehow we still hold them in the highest regard. We span a plethora of interests and abilities, most of us are entwined in different social circles (no matter how many dimensions we're talking, bluebird) yet we still are bound together, somehow. I don't think I'll ever actually be able to hate someone on the swim team. You may hear me badmouthing them all the time, but I still don't think I'm capable of hating them. Even the toad. I still have a special place somewhere (it may not be my heart) for that idiot. I tolerate him quite well, considering the amount of time I spend in his presence.
So there's my profound swimming thought for the day. Three in a row...eesh you folks are getting bombarded!
So there's my profound swimming thought for the day. Three in a row...eesh you folks are getting bombarded!
Friday, September 09, 2005
Dynamics
Watching the swim team dynamics make me laugh. A lot.
Not only are we an oddball group of people who somehow find pain a good thing and take great pride in watching the blue line at the bottom of the pool, but we are a mini-community all in one. It's the community part that I will focus on today.
So, three new guy swimmers moved in, all decently to very fast. One from another in-valley city, one from Washington, and one from Texas. None have animals, so I can't speak of them that way, so I will refer to them as 1, 2, and 3, respectively. No one pays 1 too much attention, though we all think he's awesome; he's melded into the system quite well. 2 has everyone saying, "Woah, a :54.00 fly as a sophomore!?" No one takes into account that in other states, one has to have a :58 100 freestyle to be in any way decent. Regardless, on to 3. He has over half the girls melting with pitiful "Ahhhhhhh"s on their lips. Quite amusing, in my opinion.
However, 2 has just asked the serval to Homecoming. She hasn't been reduced to a pile of whimpering mush over 3, and rather enjoys 2's company. Sadly, the bobcat has decided that even though she was dripping with flirtatiousness around 3 at the beginning of the season/week, she cannot follow the crowd and decided she had a crush on 2. The bobcat is silly that way.
Anyway, I was just observing all of this today and found it increasingly hilarious. Maybe you folks will too. Even if you don't, that's all I really have to report.
Not only are we an oddball group of people who somehow find pain a good thing and take great pride in watching the blue line at the bottom of the pool, but we are a mini-community all in one. It's the community part that I will focus on today.
So, three new guy swimmers moved in, all decently to very fast. One from another in-valley city, one from Washington, and one from Texas. None have animals, so I can't speak of them that way, so I will refer to them as 1, 2, and 3, respectively. No one pays 1 too much attention, though we all think he's awesome; he's melded into the system quite well. 2 has everyone saying, "Woah, a :54.00 fly as a sophomore!?" No one takes into account that in other states, one has to have a :58 100 freestyle to be in any way decent. Regardless, on to 3. He has over half the girls melting with pitiful "Ahhhhhhh"s on their lips. Quite amusing, in my opinion.
However, 2 has just asked the serval to Homecoming. She hasn't been reduced to a pile of whimpering mush over 3, and rather enjoys 2's company. Sadly, the bobcat has decided that even though she was dripping with flirtatiousness around 3 at the beginning of the season/week, she cannot follow the crowd and decided she had a crush on 2. The bobcat is silly that way.
Anyway, I was just observing all of this today and found it increasingly hilarious. Maybe you folks will too. Even if you don't, that's all I really have to report.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
SWIMMING!
I once again smell like chlorine; all is well in the world (and no one is allowed to sabotage it until my muscle pain really kicks in!).
Today began the grueling swim season. This morning's practice was much more difficult than it should have been. We were doing these sprints (4x50 on 1:00, in case anyone understands that) and I was working them hard; I felt like I was going to throw up. Yet I had this haphazardly placed grin stretched across my face. What is wrong with me? I feel so giddy. I was so gleeful all during school that my chemistry class now knows me to be insane and Zach called me a maniac because I was the only one answering his questions and I wasn't coherent. After school I indulged in another practice, this one more difficult than the first. The set of death was certainly deserving of the name, especially considering we just started the season (16x100 IM on a fasterish time). However, coach somehow got a decent answer out of us when he ended practice and shouted, "Is everybody happy?!" He normally doesn't get more than a sarcastic response, but today nearly every one of us answered with a resounding yes. I was surprised myself.
All in all, it was a 9,000 yard season opener. Tomorrow I will surely be able to lift no more than a finger and I will moan as I try to eradicate myself from my bed. But as for today, I am content with my lick 'n' sniff.
Today began the grueling swim season. This morning's practice was much more difficult than it should have been. We were doing these sprints (4x50 on 1:00, in case anyone understands that) and I was working them hard; I felt like I was going to throw up. Yet I had this haphazardly placed grin stretched across my face. What is wrong with me? I feel so giddy. I was so gleeful all during school that my chemistry class now knows me to be insane and Zach called me a maniac because I was the only one answering his questions and I wasn't coherent. After school I indulged in another practice, this one more difficult than the first. The set of death was certainly deserving of the name, especially considering we just started the season (16x100 IM on a fasterish time). However, coach somehow got a decent answer out of us when he ended practice and shouted, "Is everybody happy?!" He normally doesn't get more than a sarcastic response, but today nearly every one of us answered with a resounding yes. I was surprised myself.
All in all, it was a 9,000 yard season opener. Tomorrow I will surely be able to lift no more than a finger and I will moan as I try to eradicate myself from my bed. But as for today, I am content with my lick 'n' sniff.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Lifeguard Insanity X
As a head lifeguard, I often feel like I'm babysitting. And I'm not just talking about the patrons.
The leopard seal. What more can I say? Well, to Amaya I could explain who the leopard seal is, but that would take effort. Mix the leopard seal with a fellow that I believe I gave the pseudonym Mike and you get a heinous mixture.
The first signs were at the first closing of the day. Mike sprayed the seal with a hose, the seal retaliated by splashing him with semi-squeegeed water and stealing the hose. What followed after was a ten-minute water fight that I had to try to contain before we could finish cleaning. Ridiculous. Because of their horsing around, we only had two squeegees. Therefore, their punishment was that they had to get all the water in the girls' locker room down the drains. Alone.
The goings-on during the party were, I'll admit, entertaining. Also, I must accept some responsibility because, in a lapse of thought, I put them next to each other in the rotation. However, we were guarding handicapped people that tended to need more watching than other people. So, while I found their tube-fighting humorous, I also had to attempt to keep them contained, even if there were only three people in their combined areas. Then, they began to get me involved in the actual fighting. Mike insisted on making sure I saw every time that the seal hit him and he plead with me to do something about it. Then, after a while, the seal tried to talk to me but I couldn't hear him over the roar of the water. I cupped my ear; he called again. I still couldn't hear so I cupped my ear again. It reminded me of a dog, so I started "scratching" my ear like a dog. The seal mimicked me and Mike immediately started shouting, "That's cheating; you can't flirt! Flirting is cheating." I think the seal tried to protest, because Mike was soon responding, "I don't know about you, but I saw flirting."
Hilarious.
They then, somehow, started a contest on who could make me laugh first in between the times when they were whacking each other. Mike failed, because he tried to make me laugh by using his whistle in a way that tends to make me angry. The seal, on the other hand, waited until we were close enough in the rotation to talk and then we discussed this and that and he got me to laugh. All the while Mike was using his whistle infuriatingly. I didn't know about the contest until afterwards. Those two are odd ducks. Or whatever.
Things I learned today:
-The seal is supposedly not afraid of anything and he would very much like to be a canine officer. If he were to stop aging, he would like to stop aging at 18.
-I have a coworker that is deathly afraid of dogs. She would like to stop aging at 22.
-I have a coworker that is deathly afraid of spiders. Aging stop at 21.
-Never, EVER let the seal and Mike be next to each other in the rotation again.
The leopard seal. What more can I say? Well, to Amaya I could explain who the leopard seal is, but that would take effort. Mix the leopard seal with a fellow that I believe I gave the pseudonym Mike and you get a heinous mixture.
The first signs were at the first closing of the day. Mike sprayed the seal with a hose, the seal retaliated by splashing him with semi-squeegeed water and stealing the hose. What followed after was a ten-minute water fight that I had to try to contain before we could finish cleaning. Ridiculous. Because of their horsing around, we only had two squeegees. Therefore, their punishment was that they had to get all the water in the girls' locker room down the drains. Alone.
The goings-on during the party were, I'll admit, entertaining. Also, I must accept some responsibility because, in a lapse of thought, I put them next to each other in the rotation. However, we were guarding handicapped people that tended to need more watching than other people. So, while I found their tube-fighting humorous, I also had to attempt to keep them contained, even if there were only three people in their combined areas. Then, they began to get me involved in the actual fighting. Mike insisted on making sure I saw every time that the seal hit him and he plead with me to do something about it. Then, after a while, the seal tried to talk to me but I couldn't hear him over the roar of the water. I cupped my ear; he called again. I still couldn't hear so I cupped my ear again. It reminded me of a dog, so I started "scratching" my ear like a dog. The seal mimicked me and Mike immediately started shouting, "That's cheating; you can't flirt! Flirting is cheating." I think the seal tried to protest, because Mike was soon responding, "I don't know about you, but I saw flirting."
Hilarious.
They then, somehow, started a contest on who could make me laugh first in between the times when they were whacking each other. Mike failed, because he tried to make me laugh by using his whistle in a way that tends to make me angry. The seal, on the other hand, waited until we were close enough in the rotation to talk and then we discussed this and that and he got me to laugh. All the while Mike was using his whistle infuriatingly. I didn't know about the contest until afterwards. Those two are odd ducks. Or whatever.
Things I learned today:
-The seal is supposedly not afraid of anything and he would very much like to be a canine officer. If he were to stop aging, he would like to stop aging at 18.
-I have a coworker that is deathly afraid of dogs. She would like to stop aging at 22.
-I have a coworker that is deathly afraid of spiders. Aging stop at 21.
-Never, EVER let the seal and Mike be next to each other in the rotation again.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Unseen
More flawed poetry.
Unseen
Futile efforts to contain
Emotions flying free
Cannot hold in the effects
So instead I hide myself
Never to be seen
Broken and bare
Of this iron skin that keeps
Secrets hidden deep
But it also keeps out darts
Of more painful knowledge
Denial can be so sweet
Refusing to see the truth,
The way things are now
Ignoring the awakenings
So numerous, yet few
Turning away from the words
Adorning the gray stone wall
What I don't see I don't touch
Leave my bruised and tender heart
Locked within its metal casing
Untouched, unbroken, unknown.
Unseen
Futile efforts to contain
Emotions flying free
Cannot hold in the effects
So instead I hide myself
Never to be seen
Broken and bare
Of this iron skin that keeps
Secrets hidden deep
But it also keeps out darts
Of more painful knowledge
Denial can be so sweet
Refusing to see the truth,
The way things are now
Ignoring the awakenings
So numerous, yet few
Turning away from the words
Adorning the gray stone wall
What I don't see I don't touch
Leave my bruised and tender heart
Locked within its metal casing
Untouched, unbroken, unknown.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)