A 38-degree morning at the poolCopyright 2008 Lydia Hinshaw
ORMOND BEACH, FL -- Three mornings a week, I work the 5:45 a.m. shift at the pool.
This is not quite as glamorous as it sounds.
I usually show up about 5:35 and wade through a group of regulars who have crowded into the small foyer, desperate to begin their workouts.
The customers may not always be right, but they are always early!
They won't be allowed in until 5:45, but it I'm lucky I can get the attention of my co-worker at the front desk, who will let me in.
I unlock a couple of doors and one gate, test the chlorine and pH in the water, make sure all emergency equipment is at hand. By the time I've done this, there's at least one swimmer at poolside asking me if it's OK to jump in.
If it's 5:45, I say yes.
In 15 minutes, a dozen masters swimmers (mostly 30 and 40-somethings) start arriving for practice, and a handful of somewhat older folks begin trickling in to swim laps or just exercise in the water. We get pretty busy, pretty fast.
We've had lows in the 30s and 40s this week, which doesn't improve anyone's swimming speed, but produces record-setting dashes from pool back to locker room.
I'm envious of the swimmers, who are in 82-degree water, while I'm bundled up in three shirts, a sweatshirt and sweatpants, heavy outer jacket, hat, gloves, socks and sneakers. I walk around and do stretching exercises, trying to keep warm as I count heads. It works for a while.
When it's cold, steam boils up from the water into the much-cooler air. On our chilliest morning, the waves of fog would occasionally obscure the opposite side of the pool, 25 yards away.
By 6:55 a.m. there's enough sunlight that the lights can go off, but it's another hour-plus before the sun makes its away over tall trees in the woods to the south and begins to warm just one end of the pool.
By 9 it's a beautiful day. My relief arrives. I clock out, change clothes and go swimming.
This is not quite as glamorous as it sounds.
I usually show up about 5:35 and wade through a group of regulars who have crowded into the small foyer, desperate to begin their workouts.
The customers may not always be right, but they are always early!
They won't be allowed in until 5:45, but it I'm lucky I can get the attention of my co-worker at the front desk, who will let me in.
I unlock a couple of doors and one gate, test the chlorine and pH in the water, make sure all emergency equipment is at hand. By the time I've done this, there's at least one swimmer at poolside asking me if it's OK to jump in.
If it's 5:45, I say yes.
In 15 minutes, a dozen masters swimmers (mostly 30 and 40-somethings) start arriving for practice, and a handful of somewhat older folks begin trickling in to swim laps or just exercise in the water. We get pretty busy, pretty fast.
We've had lows in the 30s and 40s this week, which doesn't improve anyone's swimming speed, but produces record-setting dashes from pool back to locker room.
I'm envious of the swimmers, who are in 82-degree water, while I'm bundled up in three shirts, a sweatshirt and sweatpants, heavy outer jacket, hat, gloves, socks and sneakers. I walk around and do stretching exercises, trying to keep warm as I count heads. It works for a while.
When it's cold, steam boils up from the water into the much-cooler air. On our chilliest morning, the waves of fog would occasionally obscure the opposite side of the pool, 25 yards away.
By 6:55 a.m. there's enough sunlight that the lights can go off, but it's another hour-plus before the sun makes its away over tall trees in the woods to the south and begins to warm just one end of the pool.
By 9 it's a beautiful day. My relief arrives. I clock out, change clothes and go swimming.
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