The (life)guards walk past slowly as I pant away inside the pool. They carry giant red rescue tubes but they looked to me like Kalishnokovs or tommy guns. They walk slowly and keep their eyes on me. Most of them are foreign and I can't understand their tongue. Once in awhile they'll say something in my direction and then laugh. Are they getting ready to knock me off? I might as well have been in a foreign prison rather than a pool...it's all the same. It's torture. It's go time again. My "off" time, usually 90 seconds at most, is up. I'm back on.
I "ran" 6 hours in the pool this week. As much as I bitch, this is much better than nothing. Next week I hope I don't miss a day.