Swimming With the Old Ladies

After yesterday's run, we were looking for some low impact work, so Jim and I go to 24 hour fitness to swim at lunch today, it seemed like a good idea. It was, in that we got to swim for a bit, but it wasn't in that we had to leave early.

There is some sort of demographically bizarre black hole going on at the lunch hour at 24 hour. I think it can make you disappear forever. It is like there is an in-door, but no out-door, a human sucking bottomless pit, a one-way tunnel through space ending at the edge of the universe. You get the idea.

Lunchtime at 24 hour is the place where the eventual effects of Darwin's Beagle are realized, only in reverse. The laws of Natural Selection at 24 hour operate as though reflected in a mirror, left is right, right is left, the middle will not hold.

All of the healthy, under seventy folks have been naturally selected away, leaving the over seventy ladies with saggy arm skin to fill up both the gene pool and the swimming pool with their presence. Honestly, there is nobody there that isn't on six prescription meds to keep their ticker ticking. It's scary. Does everybody turn orange at seventy?

How slowly can you swim? It's like they are doing that slow motion karate thing that some people do in parks on Sunday mornings, only in the pool. One lady got half way to the other end of the pool, but had to come back because her rent is due on Tuesday.

So we swam for thirty minutes and got the hell out of there.