But I still have 94 monkeys to go

Notes from cross-training in the pool for the first time yesterday:

• Ah, for the empty YMCAs of my youth! I don’t know why I was thinking I could just waltz in and take a lane, since there were only 4 (with 2 swimmers in each). I only waited about 10 minutes though, which is completely acceptable.
• I’m not used to lane-sharing, but it went okay. My lane buddy, who looked like Diego Luna and clearly knew what he was doing (as opposed to me) kept pushing off at the center, but he always veered over in time.
• Something I didn’t understand: Because of the demand, individual swimmers were limited to 30 minutes in a lane, with a lifeguard there to police the limit. Still, I saw a lot of swimmers do a length, then stand at the edge of the pool, catching their breath, shifting their goggles. Some of them were probably working on technique, but wouldn’t you want to be working as muchas possible with the time you have? Maybe I’m missing some secret swimmer code here.
• Or maybe I just like to save my non-aerobic lollygagging for leisure time, I don’t know.
• Can anyone explain to me how aquajogging works? Do you stand on the pool floor? Do you wear floaties? What? All I know about it is from the Deena Kastor segment of “Spirit of the Marathon.”
• My regular gym doesn’t have a pool, so I had to go uptown to do this, to a gym in a skyscraper. The view from the pool deck was pretty amazing; otherwise this gym was a lot like the reg except it had a really nice sauna.

Anyway, it was a great arm workout until my foot cramped from holding the pull buoy and it took my entire leg with it — thus straining the muscle I was doing my best not to work at all. Argh! I went home and threw a heating pad on it, and it feels better today. I think that was just a fluke, but the search for rehab magic continues.

Last night I took water aerobics and I loved it. Surely I will also come to love collectible stuffed animals, calling pants “slacks” and eating dinner at 4pm. Word to your grandma.

The class I took was called “Splash Dance” (yay, puns!) and consisted of about 55 minutes of dance moves a la Zumba or other cardio-based dance workouts and 15 minutes of stretching and abs. For part of the class we stood in the shallow end (about 4 feet deep) and made our moves, and later we did some of the same steps and routines with water belts on in the deep end. The closest we got to traditional swimming were breaststroke or crawl arms, without the accompanying leg movements.

It was cheesy but it wasn’t easy; even as I enjoyed the relative weightlessness of being in the water, I tried to keep the tempo up and not just splash around. The instructor kept reminding us that the water puts “12 pounds of pressure” on us (per cubic inch?) and there were moves she could do standing on the pool deck that I struggled with. Most of the class regulars were older ladies (ranging from “looks like my mom’s age” to “looks like my grandma’s age”) who knew the choreography and were not thrashing around like I was. Still, I felt more at ease than I would have in a similarly new dance class, maybe because I was hiding underwater… maybe because I never swam competitively, so the pool still carries happy associations of play time and vacations past.

I took this class for free at the open house for the May Center for Health and Fitness at the 92nd Street Y — that’s Y, short for Young Men’s Hebrew Association (as it was founded in 1874). I mostly know the 92nd Street Y from all the lectures and concerts they host, at which all are welcome. The biggest difference between this gym and the gym I belong to is that this was very much of a community center — hang out in the hot tub talking to strangers, kids’ classes overlapping with adults’, that kind of thing. I don’t know if I would have been so comfortable going to a gym like that when I first tried to get healthy, seeing as I wanted to be as unnoticed as possible, but it didn’t bother me this time. Also, I know this was a special event, but I was struck by how friendly everyone was. I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a swim cap (I’ve never even worn one) and one of the lifeguards dug me up a spare so I could be in class. For free!

The May Center also just rolled out a program where, if you work out there 92 times in a year (slightly less than twice a week), you get a free month of membership. I love this idea! Way to reinforce good behavior in-kind.