I've shifted the time I swim laps at the pool from lunchtime (around noon) to 8:00 am. While others might shudder at the thought of jumping into a lukewarm pool at 7:45 or 8:00 on these wintry dark mornings, I like it. I hate feeling groggy, and a brisk swim workout first thing certainly gets my blood flowing. When I used to swim at noon, I found myself the youngest at the pool, surrounded in the locker room by elderly, white-haired ladies, all congregating there for a water aerobics class. Now that I go in the mornings, I find myself the oldest woman in the locker room, surrounded by girls from the local high school swim team. The locker room always smells like Suave shampoo and hairspray. They must get to the pool by 7:00, because they leave shortly after 7:30 to make it into school by 8:00. They are wide awake and chatty, and they stand in front of the big mirrors blow drying their hair, applying makeup, discussing skin problems and hair lengths, and talking about their parents.
"My dad said my jeans were too tight," one girl said to her friend yesterday morning. "He said they were either too tight, or I'd gained weight."
I snuck a look out of the corner of my eyes while pulling my towel and swim goggles from my bag. The girl was pretty and dark-haired, with curvy hips that she was still growing into.
"Do you think my jeans are make-you-fat tight, or looking-good tight?" the girl asked hesitantly and her friend set down her round brush and swiveled around to take a look, sizing her up.
"They are definitely looking-good tight," she said.
That's what probably worried her dad, I thought. Those looking-good jeans might have looked too good for his taste.