Swim Types

Oh water, how I love thee.
I've spent a large amount of time submerged in chlorine, lake water, bath water, sea water...
Working as a lifeguard and an instructor gives me the perfect combination of my two favourite things: water and people watching.

I find humans combined with any element is far more entertaining to watch than humans interacting with each other. There's bound to be disaster.

Take for example the jock who believes that because he can whip down the field in less than three seconds, he can swim a mile.
Heavy, thick set, bulging muscles and hair on his entire body. Arms rotated forward in a bull dog walk and his traps are on some serious 'roids. Wearing billabong swim trunks that are more suited for surf boards, volley ball with your bromance buddies and tanning oil.
Walks in slightly disoriented, and chooses the first lane he sees. Hops in.
He's thinkin 'alright, I got this. In the water, step one complete.'
takes a furtive look around, no one cares to look at him except the guards, but he daren't look at us because that's just scary.
Takes a few strokes, head up. Alright, not so bad. I got this.
Keeps going. Now he's getting confident. A sudden surge of testosterone and BAM off like a shot to the other end. and SWOOSH back to our side.
Cock of the Walk, completed 50m all on his own.
But then he notices this pressure on his chest. Has the water always felt so heavy? And every single one of his muscles is alive and saying 'now now Junior. Think this through.'
Doesn't listen. Tries to keep up the same speed. Stops halfway through the length. Doggie paddles to the other side. The muscles are now screaming 'BITCH. WATCHOO THINKING?!'
Decides, well 50m is pretty far, I'll just breast stroke to the other side and take a break.
and his lungs are saying 'If you ever make me do that again I will kill you.'
He gets to the other side. Hangs off the diving block. Stretches traps. Smirks at other people taking rests in neighbouring lanes. Bounces up and down. Hangs off the diving block. Smirks. Bounces again. ahhh, should be going soon hmmm? OOp, forgot to stretch the other side. Should just do that. Alright, when the little hand gets to the thirty, or no...the 50, then I'll go.
He sees his friend in the other lane. Actually not a friend at all, just some one he sees in Soc class, but he'd rather talk to anyone than brave the water.
'aw man, I could go so fast right now but my lungs man. I think I'm sick. Figure I'll just take it easy tonight come back tomorrow."
Gets out. Doesn't come back.

You'd think I'm being judgmental. But I've been watching you people for over two years.
I've seen every type of jock hop in the water like its nothing and then leave fifteen minutes later with their tail between their legs.
I don't know what it is about swimming, but people figure that because they took lessons when they were but wee ones, that they can just jump in one day and swim thirty lengths.
Now, it is totally possible to swim thirty lengths if you're a sort-of swimmer or a piddle-paddle swimmer. or even a I-swam-once-and-nearly-drowned swimmer. Anyone can swim.
It'll take you up to three months of swimming regularly to get anywhere good.
But you aint no Michael Phelps. 'Specially you jocks out there. Your muscles have formed to sweep you across fields and take pain like a champ. Not slice through water.

But, like Ratatouille (the movie) and its conceit: anyone can cook. even a rat.
Anyone can swim. Even a jock.

The process of swimming just provides endless entertainment for us guards who are getting paid to save your life the day your heavy muscles sink you to the bottom of the pool.