Lately, I have been swimming. You know, laps. Terrible, monotonous, repetitious strokes, up and down a soupy pool filled with chlorine, urine, unmentionable body fluids and saliva.
Supposedly, the ‘breath control’ is good training for altitude. I have no control… I simply suffocate, gasp, suffocate, gasp.
When I finish my pitiful one-kilometer - 20 laps - I dive into the warm shower, desperate to scrub off the sticky, chlorinated coating (and wanting avoid a public display of my panda eyes and tragic hair!)
