Writing about fitness took a backseat all summer because, surprise surprise, I was too busy exercising. I found a swimming pool and summer was a series of delightful evenings spent perfecting strokes on a rooftop swimming pool, watching the sun go down, the moon come up and trying to figure out whether it’s acceptable to swim with my face out of the water because I want to watch the sky while I swim.
But then Autumn struck. The pool was closed down for Autumn and Winter, as they do, here in Delhi because nobody likes cold water, and all the pools are open air pools. As they should be, in a hot country. We don’t need heated pools here and we swim because it’s too hot to do most other forms of exercise. When the temperatures dip, we walk or run, play sports that otherwise threaten our health in the heat and apparently, have no need of pools. Or so they say, but I need the pool. And there is no pool I can use between November and March.
Toying with this dilemma the way one does with dilemmas, I went over my options as I backstroked vigorously while watching migrating birds float across the surface of the moon. I resolved to go to the gym attached to the pool. I like gyms, specially if they’re not too full and the music, while rousing, should be at a bearable decibel level. I both swam and lifted weights for a couple of exhilarating weeks. But the pull of the gym was not as strong as that of the pool. As October ended, the swimming crowd dwindled, the pool was cordoned off and for some reason, the distance from home to gym began to stretch like an overworked resistance band. I couldn’t find the time, the days were too short, the traffic suddenly difficult to navigate. I stopped paying the gym membership. The weather was nice enough to walk outside and that’s what I was going to do.
What do you think happened?
Photo by Tilly Jensen on Unsplash
Words by Paperback writer