Peepshow at 2km per hour.

Recently I got home from a trip to Germany. This trip involved a lot of out-of-this-world eating. I was eating things I never thought I could stomach... fleish salad (sausage in mayonnaise), white asparagus drowned in hollandaise sauce, liver wurst for breakfast, and bread, bread like you have never imagined! Needless to say I have come home and feel like I've have become a little sausage-esque (especially when I squeeze on my jeans). Having hung up the joggers for the last eight months, I decided that the best way to get back in shape is to get in the pool. I pulled my old one piece off the clothes line (I accidentally left it out there for the two weeks I was away)and headed for the local pool. I'd never been there before but found that it was a fantastic centre with lots of different pools. I dragged my swimmers on, tightened my goggles and padded over to the stepladder. I thought the slow lane was best for me, right next to the teenagers doing squad training. I used to swim a lot when I was in Niseko, recovering from my knee injury. I was able to do 2km then. I didn't expect to do that now, but I was unprepared for how difficult each lap was. At first I alternated freestyle and breaststroke, but eventually just stuck to breaststroke. My lack of fitness left me breathless. After a while I began to feel the squad coach staring at me. I entertained the idea that he thought my style was excellent, only slow. It's funny the sort of things your brain does when you give it no stimulation but counting laps and a wavering blue line. I completed forty laps of, what I thought was, a 25m pool, in just over an hour. A very slow, meditative swim. I had enjoyed stretching my limbs and kicking, with my torso as bouyant as possible. I felt the cool of the water on my skin, especially my buttocks. I put that down to the fact that I was lifting myself out of the water and the air was chilling me. I was proud of myself and ducked the ropes to the step ladder. My legs were weak and I wobbled to my towel, wrapped it around myself and headed for the showers. On the way I passed a sign which read, '50m pool'. I was so relieved! I had made my 2km! In the shower, as I was congratulating myself on not being TOO out of shape, I noticed how the water felt strange on my body. I twisted around and looked at my behind. There, staring me in the face was the image of my bare bottom, completely visable, through my worn out old cozzie. It had not stood up to the test of time. I felt my legs go weak a second time. I had mooned the entire pool! As I walked out of the change rooms, dry and warm, I flung my old togs straight into the bin. I think a new pair is in order, in perhaps a very different colour... and maybe a swimming cap too. Maybe a complete disguise, before I ever get in the pool again.