Guerillas in the Mist

I've been letting off some steam.

Literally.

After more than 2 years of having gym membership I have finally figured out where 1) the sauna and steam room are, and 2) how to use them.

I'm not slow.

Truth be told, I was unable to use the gym for a good 18 months after my surgical mishap, and for the same reason I was stiff and sore after attempting a full day's work. So I decided to soldier on, and enlist the aid of the kids' boot camp to entertain my offspring while I stretch out and sweat.

I deposited my daughter with the personal trainer, parked my son in his wheelchair (his current form of transportation) and took myself off to the ladies' change room.

Finding a locker that actually locked was my first challenge, followed by trying to make the swap from warm comfy clothes to my swimwear of choice (a tankini, as the 'wet room' is unisex and we don't wanna scare anyone now do we) in the world's smallest cubicles. Seriously, would it kill 'em to remove one loo and make the others a little roomier?!

Deal done, I ventured into the steam room and pushed the button; "I can cope with 20 minutes" I tell myself and stepped inside.

Sliding onto the white tiles (again, literally) I wait for the onslaught of hot damp air, which when it kicks in, is every bit as hot and damp as promised. Within minutes I can't make out my own feet, and am finding it a little hard to breathe. But I'm loving it.

Seconds after that I have the distinctly unpleasant sensation of something dripping on my head.  I realise that the condensation on the ceiling is to blame and quietly freak out at the thought of what else may have accumulated up there before gravity brings it back to land...on me. I pop my little towel on my head to prevent any further absorption of god knows what, which also makes it hotter on top. All the better to detox with, no?

In the midst of all this perspiring and pondering I hear the sound of male voices. Can't see where they're coming from but I am hoping that they opt for the sauna instead. Even my modest tankini isn't modest enough, and despite the fact that I still can't see beyond my face in this mist I am not keen to share my space. No one looks their best in the steam room. I am now grateful that even the LEDs can't shed any light on the subject.

Another 10 minutes of this and I am desperate to a) breathe, b) see, and c) drink water that hasn't vaporised in the heat. So I carefully make my way to the door, stealthily slipping and sliding like a madwoman while blindly groping for the exit (again I'm thankful those guys wisely went with Door #2 or who knows what else I may have grasped in my haste to escape).

Outside, after a few delicious deep breaths of cool air, I make my next questionable decision, to try the Monsoon Shower: 10 powerful jets spraying water so cold it'd make an Eskimo think twice. I do my own personal version of the 'Hokey Pokey', and put my left hand in, pull my left hand out, with everything shaking all about. It's not until the spray slows to a trickle I am physically able to take the temperature. Then accidentally touch the button that starts the show all over again.

Belatedly I scan the room for security cameras, in case footage of my foolishness appears on someone's YouTube channel.

Relieved there will be no recordings I make my waterlogged way back to the Women's Room where I towel off best I can and put my street clothes back on. I make quick use of the complimentary hairdryers to blow my 'fro back into some semblance of sense (humidity and my hair do not play nicely together) and check I am not looking as frazzled as I feel before I go get the kids. Here I realise I am wearing but one earring. Must have come off when I removed my towelling head gear.  Am I talented, or what.

After a 45 minute workout my children are appropriately excited and exhausted and allow me to come home to the comfort of the couch and computer and a cuppa tea.

And quietly contemplate a better plan of attack for the next time I decide to let off steam.

Jx

©2012

Sink or Swim

With summer coming on I started thinking it was the right time for a refresher course in swimming.

Oh not for me- I avoid a swimsuit like a cat avoids a bath- no, for the children (who have no qualms about being seen in spandex- or even in their undies if the urge strikes).

Since we happen to live on one mighty big island, with our home nestled between a lake and an ocean, I’m all for teaching water safety from a very early age. I mean, it takes a surprisingly small amount of liquid for a child to drown (as little as one inch of water!) and I know people who’ve had that tragedy happen, so I wasn’t taking any chances with my precious ones.

As soon as they reached the required minimum age (6 months) we were off to swimming lessons at a local centre.

They took to the activity like the proverbial duck to water, and I’ve gotta admit there’s a lot of enjoyment in taking your baby by the hands and floating them about in the warm water. (Not so much fun the mad dash to the change room when the water surrounding your child becomes suddenly and suspiciously warmer still...)

Things were going, um, swimmingly, until a ‘misunderstanding’ between the instructor and ourselves. Sadly, despite being well aware that our son had Juvenile Arthritis (AKA JIA) and that mobility was an issue some days due to disease activity, she still thought it perfectly fine to label him “lazy” during lessons (I since found out she’d told another boy he “swam ok for a fat kid” so maybe she wasn’t the best choice for a child’s instructor).

Swimming is one of the few exercises that doesn't cause a kid with arthritis much pain- the water cushions the joints and keeps impact to a minimum. It's also great for overall fitness, so I can't tell you how disappointing and frustrating that whole scenario really was.

We still let the kids go in the water where possible but I figured they needed a little stroke correction to keep them in the swim of things. And so a few weeks ago I signed the kids up (now aged 7 and 5 respectively) for a refresher course at different centre.

After a quick assessment, both children were put in the same lane for the half-hour lessons.

While I expected our son to have a little trouble getting his arm over his head for the freestyle stroke because of the JIA in his shoulder, he manages to get along quite fine, albeit a little slowly at times. (He does tire easily though and still manages to come out a glowing shade of red, despite the coolness of the pool.)

Our daughter, on the other hand, swims like a flea in a blender.

It’s hilarious to watch: one arm goes up and she darn near does a sideways somersault as she turns to swing the other arm…while the legs are churning up such a wake, you’d swear a 200hp powerboat was passing by. (It’s like having your own Jacuzzi without the motor!)

I swear, if the instructor didn’t keep a helping hand on her as they made their way along the lane, she’d be right back where she started (covering the whole pool in the process).

And don’t think just because you’re sitting on the side of the pool that you’re safe from the spray. No way.

My daughter can send out enough water to saturate the entire row of parents innocently watching their water babies. I try not to make eye contact now, ‘cause there’s only so many times you can say “Sorry”. (And it's really hard to sound sincere when you're laughing.)

In fact I’m almost inclined to pretend that particular child belongs to someone else entirely and just join the chorus of “tsk”ing (in shades of amusement and bemusement) that seems to follow my daughter’s progress across the pool. But where's the fun in that?

Besides, it sure is refreshing on a hot day!

So with only 7 more lessons ‘til the term is over, I’m banking on it that this instructor is making as big an impression on my children and there’ll be no need for any more of this learn-to-swim stuff, at least until this current crop of participants and their parents has moved into the bigger pool.

Either that or hope the budget stretches to a private session instead. Oh and bring the wet weather gear with me just in case.

Jx
©2009

NOTE: To download a whole lot of free Fact Sheets about water safety (in a number of languages), visit The Royal Life Saving Society - Australia website here. And to find an AUSTSWIM course near you, start here.

Confusion Reigns

There’s something about wet weather that drives people crazy.

Or rather I should say- in wet weather, people drive crazy.

The experts suggest we slow the speed down by about 10kph during precipitation. And leave a little more space in between you and the vehicle in front, to allow for sliding when stopping.

Yeah, right.

I’m beginning to think it wouldn’t hurt if the experts proposed that some drivers leave the car at home altogether on rainy days! It’d certainly make life a whole lot safer for the rest of us road users- if not a little less interesting.

OK, so in some parts of the country this drought has lasted a long time. But surely even those living in the driest areas have had a chance to maneuver a motor vehicle under grey skies. One would think not, given the examples of not-so-precision driving witnessed during periods of precipitation.

Even the roadside assist guys will tell you there’s a lot more call outs for dings, bangs, and bingles…not to mention flat batteries as people turn their lights on then forget to turn them off again once they reach their destination. Well, duh.

Seriously, if you want to catch idiots in action, just add water.

I don't know about you, but I’ve seen cars fishtailing round corners, some sliding into parked cars or fences, stopping on the wrong side of the red light, even swerving onto the other side of the road to avoid puddles, for goodness sake (it’s not like your car isn’t getting wet already)!

And just last week my Beloved narrowly missed becoming a hood ornament for some bloke driving with his high beams on in the mist (and apparently still couldn’t see where he was going)!

Oh and hands up who else has seen people totally forget basic road rules like how to give way at intersections when it rains?

Yep, they either cut someone else off in a bid to beat traffic, or sit so long it’s as if they want the road clear from here to Hobart before they venture out. I got caught behind some lady in a 4 wheel drive for almost 10 minutes yesterday while she waited for a gap in the traffic that a semi trailer could’ve fit through! I felt like going up and tapping on her window to see if she was having trouble finding first gear…but I didn’t think she’d appreciate my roadside assistance.

But the strangest episode of wet weather weirdness behind the wheel I’ve ever witnessed was when a woman backed out of her spot in the car park at the local shops, totally misjudged the size of her car in relation to the size of the car park, and ripped off her entire front bumper and half the driver side panel as well. It was a brand new 4WD too. Then she stood there doing the 'dance of the damaged car' until I could no longer see her in my rearview mirror. (You know the one- jump out of the car, race to the front, clap your hands over your mouth then on either side of your head, shake it all about a few times, and pace back and forth as you try to decide what to do next.)

At the risk of sounding sexist (as I am a female driver too), I could only hope that she has an understanding husband, or a good panel beater, or even better- both. And hope that she catches a bus next time it rains.

Yep, there’s just something about the wet weather that causes stupidity to flood the population at large. And with more cloudy days on the way according to the forecast, the footpath is perhaps the safest place to be.

Because, to paraphrase Eliza Doolittle: it’s plain that rain washes brains down the drain.

Jx
©2009