Ah, well. Thank God for corrective lenses.
The other thing is that chlorine bothers my eyes much more than it used to. Or they use a hell of a lot more of it in Nevada pools than they do in Connecticut. Since I appear to be some freak of nature who cannot tolerate swimming goggles (and besides, every pair I've ever tried has leaked or fogged or both, thus entirely defeating the purpose of said goggles), I'm going to have to find a brand of eyedrops that will deal with irritation.
Because it's really, really, really nice to be swimming again.
16 laps yesterday, and I am going again tonight.
I've also learned that desert rats are extremely wimpy about water temperature. This swimming pool probably hovers around 75 degrees--it's absolutely warm except for that split second when it contacts your kidneys, which is gasp-worthy, and once you're in it it's like bathwater. And yet people complain of the cold.
Man. I'm not enough of a lunatic for a polar bear plunge, but I've swum in both the Atlantic and the Pacific. The Pacific is always dang cold. The northern Atlantic is nice and toasty warm when it's, you know, at a water temperature of 70 degrees, but 65 won't keep most New Englanders out of the puddle.
On the other hand, unlike Las Vegans, I do bitch when it hits 110 in the shade. (110 in the shade isn't actually all that bad at 15% humidity, as long as you can get enough to drink. The problem arises when, as in Vegas, there *isn't* any shade, and that sun is like a hammer. You can actually feel it irradiating your flesh, like sticking your hand in front of the woodstove with the tongs to rearrange that big chunk of oak that's putting the fire out.) So I suspect it's all just acclimation.
On the other hand, the water *is* 75 degrees.