The Philosophical Breakdown

There are certain places my philosophy breaks down entirely.

Like last night.  In the pool.  I was aiming for 1.5 miles.  I’m not the fastest swimmer in the world.  I’m pretty much built for endurance, not speed.  I’ve made my peace with this.  I don’t swim in the fast lane because, while I won’t stop and cling to the side to catch my breath at any point in the swim, I am not going to be breaking any records for getting from one end of the pool to the other.  I’m just going to keep going.  And going.  And going.  For all 45 laps.

And then this lady gets in the pool.  She wants to join a lane that already has two people in it, ending the split and beginning the rotation: up one side, down the other.  Which is fine.  All except for the part where I’ve done this with this lady before and she has a ruinous front crawl.  No joke, she swims like a rototiller and, like the machine, kicks up a lot of shit with not much forward movement to show for it.

I seriously contemplated drowning her.  Or being very, very mean.

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The Philosophical Breakdown

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