You can’t lift your arms. That’s what happens.
So I went swimming today for the first time since my 5K in August, and before that, I don’t even remember when I last swam. Must have been sometime in June maybe. Nope, just remembered I have a log. Yep, July 10th was the last time I swam, except for that 5K in August.
Again, I went swimming today at a local indoor pool called Kalipso / Калипсо. I went ready to be turned away, based on my experiences in Russia. Readers of my blog will remember my series “Swimming Anthropology.” Russia requires crazy things like doctor’s notes (справка) before being allowed through the door of the pool. Oh, and don’t forget your swim cap. And your bag to put your outdoors shoes in before you even walk into the locker room. The locker room commanded by a Russian grandma, or babushka, sitting right in front of you and your junk. And dammit, you better not swim in the lane for WWII veterans.
So to prevent some or all of these roadblocks, I decided to do a practice run. Last week I ran by to find out about price and requirements. It was a fun use of my Russian and my beginning Kyrgyz. Swim caps required? Yes. Shoes off before entering the locker room? Yes. Cost? 3000 som (about $51) for 12 visits in a month, or 4500 som ($76) for 12 visits in a year. OK, I’m ready.
I showed up today nice and early, around 9:45. The woman at the front desk had told me that the best time to come was between 10:00 and 3:00. The pool doesn’t open till 8:00 so no chance of going before work. And apparently, after 3:00 it is crazy with noodlers, kids and “sport swimmers” (спортивные пловцы).
When I walked in and looked through the huge window overlooking the pool, I saw two empty lanes (out of two lanes!). I was excited. I handed over 3000 som. While the woman was writing my name on my card, and laughing at my name, I started taking off my shoes and put them into a bag. “Oh, you brought a bag for your shoes. Good.” Apparently, bags are required, too.
Sure as I thought that, I saw on the door to the locker room a note saying that if you don’t have your shoes in a bag, you have to leave them in the lobby. Thank goodness I brought a bag. Don’t want anyone messing with my nice dress boots.
I walked into the locker room with the lifeguard, practicing my Russian and Kyrgyz, reflecting on how nice and big the lockers were (I can bring my Speedo bag!), and how the locker room was lacking a babushka. I found my locker and started to take my pants off, with the lifeguard still there talking to me. As my legs leave my pants, a young 20-something Kyrgyz woman walks by carrying a mop. Not mopping. Just walking through the locker room. Interesting.
The lifeguard practiced his one good English sentence with me. “You. Must. Shower.” I complimented him on his English, while at the same time wondering why he had that sentence down so well. How many Anglophones swim here that he needs to know how to say that in English? Better: How many Americans, Brits, Kiwis, Aussies, Indians, etc. swim here without showering? Yuck.
Showers are good. No lighting though. All lights broken except in the two toilet “rooms.” The swim building is nicely lit by sun so that was okay, but I wonder what happens when the sun is down? Shower had soap. That’s nice and unexpected. And the water was warm.
The pool is really mostly an amusement park type of pool. Lots of slides and shallow areas for noodlers and kids. But there are two “sport lanes ” (спортивные дорожки), both very wide, probably wide enough to do 3-4 swimmers abreast. The water wasn’t the cleanest looking. Didn’t smell of chlorine. Not sure how they clean it. I’ve heard some pools here are not equipped with filtration, which worries me. So I plan on always fully washing out my ears post natantes.
But the swim was great! It hurt immediately. My left shoulder hurt from the first length. My shoulders rarely if ever hurt! What’s up with that? The pain went away after the first 500. I was slow. 2000 meters taking me 47 minutes with about a minute rest between 500s. The real shock came when I tried to pull my ass out of the pool at the end of the workout. I couldn’t get out of the pool! Thankfully, there were only about four people in the pool at the time, all noodlers. So I dunked myself to the bottom, and rocketed out of the pool…to catch one buttock on the edge of the pool, Then I nudged the rest of my fat ass out of the pool. My arms felt so heavy! Next time I’ll park my sandals at the stairs and walk in like an old person.
Today felt really good in the end. I missed swimming. And I’m glad I found a place I can swim in regularly. Hopefully today won’t be the last time I swim while in Kyrgyzstan.