the swim nazi....

About two days after I acquired my stress fracture, my Dr. was still working on deciding exactly what was wrong with my foot. I was convinced it was something minor, like inflammation, or a tendon strain. But I did have the intuitiveness to realize I wouldn't be running right away.

Since I was determined not to lose any of the running conditioning I had gained up to this point, I did some research and found the best option was pool running. So my mom came to the rescue by getting me an "aqua jogger," she even brought it to me all the way across town. What a great mom! And yes, pool running is exactly what it sounds like. You put on an aqua belt and run in the lap pool. And it works, and it will kick your butt... you sweat and get out of breath and keep your endurance, without a doubt.

Three days after my injury I met my pregnant running buddy Katie at the Y to go pool running.... until we came face-to-face with the pool nazi.

We both felt a bit ridiculous our first time out, she being eight months pregnant and me on crutches... we were a hot pair! We got changed and slowly made our way out to the pool area, where my crutch slipped almost immediately on the wet tile, landing on my injured foot. That should have been our first tip-off to turn around and go back to the locker room, get dressed and go get coffee.

But we kept going, just a little more cautiously. It was a pretty long trek to the lap pool. We had read the schedule by the way, and were under the impression the lap pool was open. We got to the pool, and there stood this little, beady eyed, mustached man who put his arms out and stared at us blankly and I kid you not, said "can I help you?"

WHAAA??? Katie and I stood there shocked and I muttered something about "oh there must be swim team," to which he answered, "yes," at which point poison darts shot from his eyes into our souls. It was so horrible. So we left, dejected.

I cried the entire drive home. Maybe the tears were more from the build up of the pain, and the frustration of crutches, with the realization I couldn't do everything I wanted than it was the nazi. It's hard to say.

But there was some redemption in this story. We became tattle tales, and it felt amazing! We relayed the story to our personal trainer at the Y! She was horrified and immediately told the managers about our situation, to which they were appalled and mentioned they weren't surprised. Apparently they already knew that particular swim coach is a total a-hole swim nazi! They had a "chat" with him. Maybe he will mind his manners in the future!

The other redeeming quality? Katie and I laugh hysterically every time we talk about the debacle. Somehow, despite the swim nazi, we can still find the humor of the pregnant and gimpy girls who lamely waddled and crutched their way to bravely face the swim nazi....