Swimming has always been my sanctuary, my escape from the chaos of everyday life. As a devoted lane swimmer, I found solace in the rhythm of my strokes, the steady flow of the water, and the tranquillity of the pool. However, a recent house move led me to join a newly opened sports centre, where I discovered a whole new set of characters.
As I glide through the swim lanes, I can’t help but notice the diverse cast of swimmers that populate the pool, each bringing their unique energy to the water around me.
First, there’s the cheeky chappy, always found flirting with the old ladies in the slow lane. With a twinkle in his eye and a charming smile, he brightens up their day with playful banter and light-hearted conversation.
Then, there’s the unsociable butterfly, a fast lane hog causing a mini tidal wave with each stroke. Lost in his own world, he carves through the water with determination, oblivious to the splashes and ripples he creates. Often to the dismay of the pool glamour puss who swims in the adjacent lane with a full face of makeup and perfectly styled hair.
But amidst the splashing and laughter, there’s Aquaman Grandad, a fit-as-fuck old gent who effortlessly glides through the water, leaving the old ladies in the slow lane swooning in his wake. His arrival is perfectly timed each session so he can saunter past his fan club, lapping up the attention with a “still got it” smile on his face.
In the medium lane, Mr. Muscle commands attention as he stands proudly in the shallow end, his chiselled physique glistening in the lights. Menopausal women steal glances from the corner of their eyes, grateful for the cool water hiding their hot flushes and the rosy slow of exercise disguising their blushes.
In the shallow end, a gaggle of gossips gather for their daily dose of chatter, refusing to budge as other swimmers attempt to navigate past them to turn and begin another lap of the pool. Their laughter echoes off the tiled walls, a symphony of camaraderie and friendship.
At the reception desk, grumpy receptionists juggle phones, lost shuttlecocks, check-ins, and a malfunctioning swipe card system with a weary determination. Despite their frustrations, they greet each swimmer with a tired smile each morning.
But amidst the hustle and bustle, there are moments of unexpected warmth and connection. As I swim, I often overhear snippets of conversations that tug at my heartstrings, like the lonely, retired gent who bravely ventures out after recently losing his wife, seeking solace in the gentle water and the companionship of fellow swimmers.
Yes, the sports centre is a hotbed of gossip and subtle flirtations, a melting pot of personalities and energies colliding in the water. But it’s also a place of community, where strangers become friends, and the simple act of swimming becomes a shared experience.
So, if you ever find yourself in need of a little adventure, head off to your local sports centre. Who knows what you’ll find beneath the surface of the water? Dive in, and let the currents of community carry you away.
SJB
So Just Be 