I was at the pool recently wringing out every last little bit of summer. The opportunity to float in the lazy river is something I dream about in mid-February when I’d kill for a little warm sunshine on my face. But while we all know that Fall doesn’t officially begin until September 22nd, the pool closes long before that.
So I hit the
pool arriving with my towel, 24 oz double-insulated tumbler of ice water, can
of ultra-high SPF sunblock and my pool floatie. I kicked off my flip-flops, dropped
everything on a lounge chair but the pool floatie – and I waded in.
You should know
that it could be 90 degrees outside and I still do the toe-dipping thing where
I test the water in which I’m preparing to submerge myself. It could be as warm
as bath water, but my face wears the same expression as if I were participating
in a Polar Bear plunge in frigid January.
Fortunately,
that expression lasts only seconds before I’ve acclimated to the water
temperature. I close my eyes and peacefully float as the water jets carry me
along and the sun shines down upon me.
Ahhh.
This euphoria
lasts only as long as the little hooligans stay out of the lazy river. Once the
pool is overly filled with splashing pre-teenaged boys, I get out. And then I
eagerly await the announcement every hour that it’s the time-out period for all
children under eighteen.
Believe me, we diehard lazy river fans who have purchased our own floaties positively live for those brief kid-less moments in the lazy river.
After a couple
hours of floating and sunning, I was relaxing in my lounge chair reading a book
and awaiting the next adult only swim, which was about 10 minutes away. I was
also shamelessly eavesdropping on a man and his son sitting next to me. He was
telling his son that it looked like a brief thunderstorm was headed our way and
the boy wasn’t allowed to go back in the water.
I looked up
and, sure enough, there were some clouds in the sky that didn’t look too
friendly.
The woman on
the other side of me asked me what the pool’s policy was for rainstorms.
Clearly, she assumed I was the professional pool-goer amongst us what with my
super-duper pool floatie leaning next to my chair.
I told her that
everyone would have to take shelter. And if the storm involved thunder and
lightning, the pool would close.
And then,
because I didn’t really feel like hanging out under a crowded shelter hoping
the rain would stop and the sun would come out again – I decided I’d probably
had enough lazy river time that day.
So I packed up and
headed to my car.
No sooner had I latched my seatbelt and put the car in gear when the skies opened up and it rained like Noah was making a comeback. There were brilliant flashes of lightning and booming cracks of thunder. And as I left the parking lot I could barely see the road in front of me.
Talk about
timing. That was just about perfect. And, yeah, sure, I had a little hint from
my lounge neighbor with the doppler radar app that the weather was
going to take a turn…but had I left even a moment later I would have been soaked.
And I know what you're thinking. But, no, I wasn’t still wet from the lazy river. I’d changed into
street clothes in the restroom since I had planned to run some errands after my
afternoon at the pool.
There are so
few instances in life that I have perfect timing that when they happen, I marvel.
On the other
hand, there are many instances where my timing is off. Yin and Yang,
perhaps?
Let’s compare
and contrast, shall we? Let me tell you about my most recent journey to the
pool.
It was this past
Friday. August 12th. Still well over a month before the end of
summer, no?
I looked at my
handy weather map and determined that Friday was going to be the best day to go
to the pool. Saturday, conversely, was going to be cloudy and there was a
greater chance of rain.
So I made
arrangements to visit my father-in-law on Saturday and invited a friend to join
me at the pool on Friday.
Alas, she couldn’t
go at the last minute, but that didn’t stop me. I slapped on the sunblock, grabbed
my pool bag and floatie and headed for the pool.
Once there, I
was surprised that the parking lot wasn’t more crowded as it was an absolutely
perfect summer day to lounge by the pool.
But I forged on
ahead and walked up to the gate. Only to be stopped by a big sign indicating
that the pool was closed until 4 pm. Unless I wanted to swim laps. Which I didn’t.
I haven’t swum laps since my late 30s when my shoulder naggingly suggested it
was time to stop swimming laps lest I was interested in signing up for a little
rotator-cuff surgery.
Thursday had
been the last day that the pool was open at noon. The stinkin’ day before!
Sigh.
So I turned
around and headed back to the parking lot. I stowed my floatie in the trunk and
then headed home. All sad and dejected because I might have missed my last
opportunity to float in the lazy river for the season.
But here’s the
thing about timing. There has been a definite chill in the air the past few
mornings when I’ve taken Maggie for her first walk of the day. And the sky isn’t
so bright either leading me to acknowledge that a time change is headed our way
before too long.
So it’s
starting to feel a little like Fall. And I’m guessing that the whole Pumpkin
Spice Phenomena is about to descend upon us poor folk who are not remotely interested
in any manner of Pumpkin Spice. Drinks, candles or otherwise.
Maybe I should
hold out hope that we have a resurgence of a late summer heat wave so I can eke
out a few more times at the pool over the next couple weekends?
We’ll see.
As long as the
timing isn’t off and we don’t get that heat wave until after Labor Day.
Then the sound
you’ll hear from way over here? Yeah, it’ll be the air coming from my deflating
floatie. Along with perhaps the sound of sweat splashing on the fabric as I
fold it up and put it away for another year in the middle of the after-Labor
Day heat wave.
