There's a Reason People Aren't Fish

One day last week, I swam 1/2 mile without stopping for the first time. But I didn't believe myself, so on Sunday, I made Tiffany go with me to the pool to make sure I hadn't counted wrong (thank God, I hadn't).

She took me to her pool. When we got there, we stopped on a platform overlooking the lanes so I could get the lay of the water. I didn't like what I saw. There were at least 20 lanes and all of them were full.

"What are these people doing?" I said. "Don't they have anything better to do on a Sunday?"

Tiffany raised her eyebrows but kindly didn't point out the obvious.

"What is that woman doing?" I asked, pointing my finger at one of the slow lanes.

"Sidestroke."

"At least I'm better than her."

Tiffany rolled her eyes.

"I'm not sharing a lane with any of these people," I said, "look at that woman! She looks like a turtle trying to flip over! Is that the backstroke? That man there isn't even swimming. He's floating. They all look like idiots."

Tiffany dragged me into the locker-room before I could berate the entire pool. When we came out in our flip-flops, the lanes were still full. Despite my glaring, no one got out. We had to settle for the right side and left side of two adjacent lanes for our new strategy, devised after my first triathlon debacle, in which Tiffany will set the pace and I will follow slightly behind her so she can see my bobbing head when she breathes to her right and I can see her kicking feet when I breathe to my left.

"I can't touch!" I cried, as I slipped into the water. Tiffany's pool is deeper than mine.

"You don't need to touch," she said, "you're swimming, remember?"

Then she looked at me. Took me in in all my glorious swim-capped goggled-ness, and burst out laughing.

"What?"

"I love you, but you look... like an idiot."