If I could walk on water
Dec. 19th, 2018 08:28 amThere are signs by the pool with long lists of different strokes people should do for their structured lap swimming. 50 of this, 100 of that, and so on. I don't do anything like that, but one thing I kept looking back at was at the top of one sign: One mile = 32 laps = 64 lengths. I've always measured my water experience by time and my land experience by distance, and now that I've been walking a little bit in the pool, I've wondered what it'd be like to walk a mile in the pool. The recreation side was a little crowded this morning (three whole swimmers) and only one of the four lanes was taken, so I decided to walk a mile in a lane today.
It's definitely much more challenging to walk in the pool. On the one hand, you can jump through the water in a low-impact way, but the water also provides a lot of resistance. The hardest part is getting through the deepest part of the pool in the middle. And because I was going for distance, I didn't do as much lunging in the ends as I have been lately. A mile took about 45 minutes, which is more than twice the time it takes me on land.
I found myself wishing I'd charged my old Pebble watch so I could use some sort of counter instead of keeping track in my head. It's surprisingly hard to count to 64 when you can only advance one number per pool length. It's hard not to accidentally advance early.
From lengths 19-30, I found myself reflecting on my life during those ages. Strangely enough, the music mix I listened to happened to get a little sad and dark right around when my life did. Even weirder, it sped up and resumed at just the right time!
Speaking of walking, I did one on Sunday at Langus, of course. It was pretty wet out, so since the gate was locked at the new parking area, I decided I wouldn't try to pass through there. The part on either side of the gate where they took down the fence is still quite overgrown, totally fine to walk through unless it's wet.








Since I knew it'd be wet, I parked by the river where there's a decent view and put the camera on the steering wheel for a time lapse. I didn't get my hopes up because winter is rarely good for time lapses, but was pleasantly surprised. I love the twinkly lights from the city and trains shining through the water droplets, plus the dramatic flow of clouds once it gets brighter.
It's definitely much more challenging to walk in the pool. On the one hand, you can jump through the water in a low-impact way, but the water also provides a lot of resistance. The hardest part is getting through the deepest part of the pool in the middle. And because I was going for distance, I didn't do as much lunging in the ends as I have been lately. A mile took about 45 minutes, which is more than twice the time it takes me on land.
I found myself wishing I'd charged my old Pebble watch so I could use some sort of counter instead of keeping track in my head. It's surprisingly hard to count to 64 when you can only advance one number per pool length. It's hard not to accidentally advance early.
From lengths 19-30, I found myself reflecting on my life during those ages. Strangely enough, the music mix I listened to happened to get a little sad and dark right around when my life did. Even weirder, it sped up and resumed at just the right time!
Speaking of walking, I did one on Sunday at Langus, of course. It was pretty wet out, so since the gate was locked at the new parking area, I decided I wouldn't try to pass through there. The part on either side of the gate where they took down the fence is still quite overgrown, totally fine to walk through unless it's wet.








Since I knew it'd be wet, I parked by the river where there's a decent view and put the camera on the steering wheel for a time lapse. I didn't get my hopes up because winter is rarely good for time lapses, but was pleasantly surprised. I love the twinkly lights from the city and trains shining through the water droplets, plus the dramatic flow of clouds once it gets brighter.
https://instagram.com/p/BrdOnifgQvj