To the BATMOBILE

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

you can drag a horse to water...

In a moment of madness, I had decided to forgo my usual medium-distance run in lieu of some vague attempt at swimming as part of my Superhero physical upkeep and all. As things turned out, it wasn't one of my better ideas (as a matter of fact, I struggle to recall one 'better idea' I've thought of in my lifetime).

I should not have ignored the early warning signs as I endeavoured to slip (squeeze would be a more apt term) into my trusty pair of trunks. Despite being marketed as a sizeable inch larger than my waist, I realised with much consternation that an indecent amount of ample thigh-flesh, pale as a corpse, was exposed to scare old aunties to death. Having earlier announced to my parents about the task I was about to undertake, I was reluctant to retract my decision for fear of harsh laughter and that smug look that all but encompasses "I knew you wouldn't...".

Striding purposefully towards my condominium pool and doing my best to seem professional and observe all six thousand variations of body stretches to disinterest my parents observing from our balcony (at no one point did I see them there. But I just knew. A superhero's six sense, if you would) as well as the bemused security guard cum life guard on duty who had most probably noticed my lumiscent thighs from a mile away in the 9pm darkness.

Snapping my goggles (rather painfully) into place, I decidedly looked more like a younger Dr. Ock of Spiderman fame than Ian Thorpe (largely due to physique as well) but after all, I had the benefit of the cover of darkness.

With a swan dive that would put a Baywatch lifeguard to shame, I plunged into the pool with the poise of a dolphin which soon gave way to undoubtedly the most disastrous looking freestyle maneouveur. Unlike other swimmers which seem to draw breath delicately as their head pronates around to accomodate their graceful strokes, I seemed akin to a surfacing whale, spewing water in a great burst of noise and frenzied activity as my oxygen starved lungs forced my mouth wide open a la the whale Monstro from Pinnochio before the icy grasp of the water dragged me back under, in the process of doing so filling my mouth with water and rendering all previous effort to breath useless. Whilst doing my best not to drown, I had to attempt to keep my flailing limbs from knocking swimmers in the neighbouring lanes unconscious, such that I had to hinder my movement to a feeble wobble to navigate through the water.

After an exceedingly valiant effort at completing 8 laps (with ample rest in between each 50m 'burst' I assure you, where I mumbled vague excuses to anybody who so as gave me a questioning glance as if to say "What - that's all?"), I decided to do my superhero status justice by giving a last herculean push for a ninth and final lap - even reverting to the wimpish-looking and highly detested breast stroke (stroking breasts however, is a totally different thing. Ignore this if you aren't above 18. Or even if you are, it would be best you did). Within 5 metres of completing my final lap, my last great froglike movement to propel me to the pool-wall ended in an almighty cramp - one with such a great degree of pain that I contemplated tearing the entire appendage off there and then to stop it.

Spasming wildly as though I've just gave a portugese man-of-war a massive bearhug, I spent the next few minutes dragging my body over the edge of the pool onto the comfort of land where I wept unshamely as I contorted my leg into a position that would have otherwise required the skills of a true yoga master (in the essence of Dhalsim from Street Fighter). To emphasis the degree of pain and awkwardness I was subjected to (and still am actually, 24 hours later I'm still required to hobble about), my mother had believed me to be a "poor wheelchair bound man who was trying to pull himself out of the pool".

It comes of course, with no great surprise for the stubborn fool that I am, that I shall attempt to swim again within the following two days (provided I have the time and my calf decides to work once more).

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 10:11 pm
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