Here’s something most people don’t know about me: I am a swimmer (here’s a photo of the very pool I swim in). I swim laps. Back and forth, back and forth, week after week, year after year.

To many people, lap swimming sounds like the most boring, mindless workout possible, but I find it relaxing. I think my love of lap swimming harkens back to my first “career” as a lifeguard and swimming instructor.

The past few weeks, the local high school P.E. classes have been sharing the lap lanes with me. Today when I was getting dressed, a crew of freshmen girls arrived in the locker room and changed into their swim suits.

Here’s the typical scenario I observed:

1. Put teensy bikini on lithe, shapely body (no tank Speedos for these girls).



2. Check self out in full-length mirror. Straighten suit (what there is of it)



3. Go back to locker to retrieve hair scrunchie.



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4. Return to mirror and check self out again.



5. Put scrunchie in hair.



6. Fluff hair.



7. Check self out again.



8. Take shower.



9. Return to mirror and check self out again.



10. Take another shower, this time wetting hair.



11. Take scrunchie out, redo ponytail.



12. Check self out to see how self looks with wet hair.



13. Head towards pool deck, casting anxious backwards glances in direction of full-length mirror.



14. Once on pool deck, attempt to cover self up with hands so boys won’t notice.



15. Jump in pool, squealing.

I find it rather ironic that our school district has a dress code, but not a swimsuit code. Some of the “suits” those girls wear leave little to the imagination. As the mother of a 14-year-old son who will be joining the swimming class next year, I must say: I fear for the poor boys! They don’t stand a chance with all those cute young female bodies prancing around.

After I finished my lap swim (I added on 12 laps this week to counteract the Venti mochas) I headed to the library, where I attempted to check out a book with my Discover card (yeah, lap swimming does exhaust me).

As I was leaving the library, I followed two rather rotund high school boys who were chatting about the “hot,” fully-clothed girl they’d just spotted in the library.

I shook my head and thought, “You should have been at the pool, boys.”