Attack of the Swim Doofi

Posted: December 14, 2012 in Swim
Tags: ,

Where my bike workouts are just beginning to get back to normal, well, as normal as they can be when stuck pedaling endlessly on a trainer going nowhere, and my run workouts are still non-existent thanks to a lingering injury, I am back to full force in the pool.  I have really come to enjoy my long morning swim workouts (I know, I know, I’m weird that way) and feel that I am finally beginning to become pretty proficient in the water.  Hey, I’m already head and shoulders beyond where I was even a year ago and I think that fact was pretty well excentuated by my better-than-anticipated result in Wales.  So the swim is emerging as my personal strength in triathlon.  Boo-yah!

It’s the one discipline out of the three where I am able to push other age groupers to their maximum thresholds and still feel relatively good doing it.  I’d damn near kill myself trying to do that on the bike, and I’d certainly experience a massive coronary if I tried to go full bore during the run.  But in the swim, I’m getting more confident.  In fact, this is my whole future strategy:  to get out of the water well ahead of those other sleeker, skinnier bastards before they can either catch up on the bike or run me down later.  It’s a strategy that has played out well for me this past season.  As such, I typically spend three days a week in the pool covering 10-12 kilometers despite it being early in the off-season.  Besides, if I do ever get that chance to cross Lake Ontario this summer, I want to be as swim fit as possible.

So this past Friday it was business as usual with nearly a kilometer of kicking as part of my 1.3k warm up prior to starting my main set.  Yeah, gone are the days of building up to that distance; now it’s a warm up.  Whoever would have thunk it?  In keeping with the standard lane etiquette that I prefer to endorse, I usually complete my warm up in the Slow Lane, which tends to run the better part of 45 minutes or so.   As such, I’ve become pretty familiar with the old ladies and their kickboards and pool belts and the old dudes who just want to hang out at the end of the lane and hit on the lifeguards.  It’s an eclectic bunch given that it’s the local YMCA, but we coexist peacefully while the other early morning eager beavers complete their 30-45 minute continuous swims in the other lanes.  Later, when they’re done and I’m ready to begin my main set I just bid ‘adieu’ to the geriatric swimmers and move over one lane into the Fast Lane.  ‘Easy peasy lemon squeezy’…everyone’s happy.

On that morning, however, as I was ducking under the lane barrier to begin my scheduled Force set, I was confronted by two other young, lanky swimmers as I surfaced.  They were, apparently, also looking to get in the Fast Lane.  Crap.  But, hey, what can you do?

Me“Good morning.  Do you want to share the lane?  We can just do circle swim.”

Swim Doofus #1“Well, we were kinda hoping to have the lane to ourselves.  Would you mind moving over another lane?”

Umm…pardon?  Considering that the other lanes were all otherwise occupied by slower swimmers in their properly designated lanes, or retirees doing their aquacize, or whatever it is they do in the Open area, I didn’t really relish moving anywhere, thank you very much.  Surely this tool was joking, right? A reasonable person might figure that three swimmers to a lane was perfectly acceptable and jump in ant to the business of paddling.  In fact, I’ve shared a lane with quite a few more, quite harmoniously, so why would these morons want the lane all to themselves?  The fuck?  It was a good thing I was still wearing my swim goggles as the laser beams radiating from my pupils might have eviscerated these idiots on the spot in a plume of disintegrated flesh.

Swim Doofus #2“Yeah, we were going to go fast.”

Oh no he didn’t.

Me“Were you now?”

I was trying real hard to keep my cool at this point.  Well, okay, maybe not that hard as my first instinct was to stretch his purple Speedo over his head in true atomic wedgie fashion before dunking him repetitively.  Seriously, purple?  But I digress…

Swim Doofus #1“We’re triathletes.  We go fast.”

Me“No kidding?”

The sarcasm was literally dripping from my lips at this point like the fat from Lincolnshire sausages off a George Foreman grill.  If there is one thing that pisses me off, its arrogance, so I took offence.  ‘It’s on fuck face’, I thought.

Me“Tell you what, how about I do some speed sets with you”, I continued.

I figured if we have to coexist, ignorant Doofus’ (or is it ‘Doofi’?) as they were, we may as well be doing the same type of workout.  Besides, now I had the motivation to go fast.  Imagine that.  I justified this suggestion by assuming that by circle-swimming I wouldn’t have to worry about my getting in their way with my paddles and pull buoy and stuff, nor would they have to wait at the wall between sprint sets to allow enough distance between me and them before starting their next sprint; but, really, I was looking for was a chance to make them suffer.  Besides, who couldn’t use a little more speed work, right?

Swim Doofus #1“Well, I suppose.”

Okay, yup, I’m totally inspired now.  ‘Your skimpy purple Speedo’s and varsity swim cap don’t scare me in the slightest.  Get ready for Thunderdome, motherfucker, because you just inspired me to kick your ass Waterworld-style.’

Me“Great, you just let me know when you’re ready to begin,” and I went back to my paddles.

Yes, part of me considered that I might have bitten off more than I could chew with these numbnuts, but how could I back down from the possibility of whooping two immensely annoying and egotistical douche bags at their own workout?  I was determined to give it my best shot or die trying.

It became apparent though that after a few laps of circle swim that I wasn’t necessarily out of my element.  Their form suggested that they were no budding Michael Phelps’, nor were they especially fast.  Sure, they were sporting fancy Subaru Triathlon Series water bottles and swim caps but, other than that, they seemed mediocre at best.  This was going to be fun.

Eventually, they begrudging notified me that they were finally ready to begin.  Let the slaughter commence…

Swim Doofus #2“We’re going to do 10 x 100m.”

Me“Okay, on a minute-thirty, or what?”

This inquiry obviously fell on deaf ears judging by the round of blank stares I received.

Swim Doofus #1“Umm, just Fast.”

O-kaaaay.  Clearly these meatballs were operating with all the high functioning purpose of a mentally challenged sea lion.  Fast it is.

Swim Doofus #1“We’ll go first and you can follow.”

Me:  “Lead on, MacDuff.”

Swim Doofus #2:  “Huh”?

Me:  “Nothing.  I’ll do my best to keep up.”

It just kept getting better and better.

Swim Doofus #1“How many laps have you done already?”

Me:  “I dunno.  I don’t really count…50-60 maybe.”

They exchanged a glance between them that I knew exactly how to translate: “Check this fatso out, brah, he totally thinks he’s going to keep up with our total awesomeness.”  Hey, I may have swim goggles on but I’m not blind you moolyaks.  Whatever…get ready to hurt, suckers.

Once we started I give them credit for beginning at a pretty brisk pace, but nothing to write home about.  Leaving approximately 10 seconds behind the second Doofus I was pretty much slapping his heels by the last 25 meters; his buddy, the first Doofus, wasn’t much further ahead.  And so it went for the next 5 x 100m  sets. After each set they were getting increasingly gasped.  Clearly not endurance swimmers so I decided to turn it on a bit…time to bury the needle and separate the swimmers from the paddlers, gentlemen.

On the sixth set, I pulled out from behind after the first 25 meters and passed them both like drowning chimps and arrived back at the wall a good 5-6 seconds ahead of them.  Now I was going to take a turn leading out and I started up again after about 10 seconds or so, or about half the recovery time they were allowing for.  I was hoping they’d feel pressured to keep up and they did.  Excellent!

The last four sets I didn’t let up nor rest at the wall for more than a few seconds to keep the pressure on.  By the last few sprint sets I was completing my 100m’s nearly a whole pool length ahead of these so-called speed demons.  By the end they were sucking air like two open chest wounds.   I admit to being a bit winded myself, but not to the point of failure.  I absolutely relished in the moment.

Me:  “You guys want to keep going?”

Instead of giving me a response, they just climbed out of the lane and headed for their towels.  I took this lack of response as a proclamation of victory and I couldn’t resist the urge to twist the knife just a little more because, hey, I can be a bit of an idiot like that.  This was just too much fun.

Me“Hey, I’m here every Friday if you guys want to share the Fast Lane again.  It’s not often I get to work out with real triathletes.”

Hey, tomorrow’s Friday isn’t it?  What are the chances they’ll be back for more?

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Comments
  1. Jeff says:

    omg I wish I was there to see that……”’we’re tri-athletes”….lol …if only you knew where they biked/run so you could slam, oops I mean educate, them again LOL

  2. Tammy Palumbo says:

    This is awesome. Good for you. I can’t stop laughing. 🙂

  3. Dana says:

    Hee-larious! Love it!

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