Mermaid Man: I did it! I feel five years younger. It's good to be back.
Barnacle Boy: We did it, you old coot. Mermaid Man: Who are you?
Epiphany! Once a runner, who are you now? It’s existential or it is not.
And I will repeat myself elsewhere, when I explain why today’s running population – despite super shoes and gels and decades now of research – is generally slower than back in the day. Don’t get me started.
On my 80th trip around the sun, I am still a runner. No longer able to run, I still behave like I can. I am at race weight and live most every hour like tomorrow is my Boston Qualifier. Which truthfully, even in my age-group, I couldn’t do on a bicycle.
Takes a special kind of communicator to commence with a digression.
Meanwhile, back at the community clubhouse, old white people in bathing attire.
Lived here twenty years, never been to the pool. Why swim when you can walk, why walk when you can run? That’s just me – authentically a runner.
Who can now bend but one knee, so TO THE WATER!!!
After running, there is walking. After I could no longer walk, I shuffled. No longer allowed to shuffle for exercise, I am now in the pool. Weather-permitting. Cannot abide the cold.
Whether or not, not really a choice.
We all start out in water, right? Just nature and life like a Bell Curve.
I am a lot more like a fish than you might imagine. Slippery and scaly, just for starters. Might just be faster in the water than on land. My hairdo is a dorsal fin. Or a rudder maybe.
As is my nature, I swim fastest going backwards. Similarly, I prefer the deep end.
Where the music is loudest.
Think Aquatic Kata with a young Tommy Tune. Tall and lean and colorfully clad, he moves every way his body will allow. With the music. Golden Oldies.
Okay, it’s not running. But sixty solid minutes of pool action – wouldn’t want to call it swimming – almost as good as a run. Better than a walk.
No, Ma’m, that was not a lecherous smile. That was a pained grimace, I can assure you. No, not about your looks.
Of course not… you’re a vision.
