Maybe it’s because I’ve been reading A Confederacy of Dunces lately, but I’ve been feeling like holding everyone around me in total contempt today. Besides enriching my life with posthumously published prose, I’ve taken up swimming again. For those who share my athletic prowess, meaning that your body resembles a sack of apples after it’s been beaten with two-by-fours for a few good moments, you know that running isn’t exactly your thing. Running is one of those activities I really don’t want to do unless absolutely necessary, you know. First off, I run with the grace of the aforementioned apple sack running down a flight of stairs. Second, every step reminds me of all the weight in my body and the very close relationship it seems to have with gravity. Third, the combined elegance the first two points create makes running in public an interesting experience, to say the least. With all that said, I am glad I discovered swimming.

Swimming is my go-to counterargument to the points on running I just presented. I don’t really care how I look like in the pool since my co-swimmers are usually busy keeping themselves from swimming and everyone looks stupid in water anyway. If you’re like me and do your swimming in a swimming hall with an admission fee, there usually aren’t any shady looking teenagers hurling insults at your wobbling shape either. And since I’m in water, my buoyancy makes me actually feel lighter and I don’t really notice all that Easter chocolate I stuffed into my face the week before. Best of all, once I get out of the pool, the sudden change in perceiving the wight of my body makes me feel like Son Goku after arriving on King Kai’s planet, and that just adds to the awesome feeling I get from exercising!

Incidentally, I didn’t bring up my mood in the beginning of the first paragraph for nothing. Initially I thought I’d write a positive, encouraging piece about the pros of taking up swimming, but now I feel like kind of unenthused. Instead, I do what my generation does best which is focusing on the negatives, especially when it comes to my fellow man. I have met many types of swimmers on my aquatic journeys, most of whom behave very well. You know they behave like decent exercisers if you don’t think about or notice them. However, there are some who do differ from this, and for the lack of a better term, lessen one’s experience.

Before my rant, I just want to draw the bottom line that one’s speed does not contribute to my disrespect. You can go as slow or fast as you like, have your own pace and take things as they come by you. I don’t hold the opinion that everyone has to go as fast as they can or stay away from the lane if they can’t reach a certain speed. It’s everyone’s pool and everyone decides their own speed. You got that? Good, because here comes the rant.

If you find yourself going slower than the average swimmer (which is totally fine on its own), and notice someone faster coming behind you, please let them pass when you reach the end of the lane. I’d like to think it’s because of they just don’t notice you and not because they don’t care about shared enjoyment, but some people do not let others pass at the end of the lane. It is a lot easier to pass others at the end than at the center of the lane. Also, I like to keep my heart rate up. I have to slow down and wait for a good moment to pass another swimmer to finally reach my speed again, but if they had let me pass at the end, everyone could go at their own speed and everyone would be happy.

Speaking of swimming behind other people, the most infuriating thing is the lack of care towards one’s odor. I don’t necessarily mean body odor, since that can be rarely helped. I mean people who come to the pool wearing perfume or cologne or whatever, and then refuse to shower it off. So there I am, holding my face underwater, launching forward and raising my head to get it blasted with a vapor of Gaz de Moutarde fragrance exuding from the person swimming in front of me. The one thing I need in that moment is oxygen, not a sample of your aftershave collection.

One minor thing that may not bother others but sure does me: swimming with friends is great, I got it, especially if you converse about the sport with said friend, but please, for the love of Neptune, please do it somewhere else than at the end of the lane. Many a time have I seen the spot where you’re supposed to turn around and push off from the wall for more speed turn into a public forum where everything from weather to the discovery of Higgs boson have been discussed. It’s okay to take a break and exchange a few words with your partner, but do it in a way that does not prevent other swimmers from using the space as well.

I think I could go on for a few more paragraphs, but I think I’ve made my point. I like to think that anger and hate are a waste of energy. If that’s the case, I just wasted a whole lot of it, truth to be told, and I’d rather direct my unspent energy at the mix of hydrogen and oxygen. If only Ignatius Reilly had swum regularly, maybe he would have been a more tolerable person. By no means, don’t get the idea that swimming isn’t worth your time, because it most certainly is. Maybe one day I’ll be able to upgrade my body into a sack of persimmons, who knows.