My endorphins are as blind as I am

The last time I went swimming with Alison, she nearly killed me.

It's possible that it was my fault. I made the mistake of thinking I could keep up with her. She was deep into the Herron High School Swim Team and had been conditioning five days a week, two hours at a stretch.

I was wearing an old suit that kept revealing more than my bad stroke. Oh, and I was wearing my out-of-shape, ancient body under it. Suffice it to say, my top wasn't the only thing not keeping up with the nimble fish called Alison.

A year later, I was more savvy, and I had a new suit. I was inspired by the realization that I can't zip the dress I wore in Auntie Jen's wedding. My same-old, same-old workouts aren't cutting it. Ali is back in swim and I told her I'd swim with her as long as she would ignore me unless I sank to the bottom.

So we went on Saturday and she suggested a few things and only once stopped me with a frown. I was doing a stroke of my own invention. I call it "Still-in-the-water-and-moving."

"That is not a thing," she said, observing me with one raised eyebrow.

It's a great stroke. You lay on your back and kick a little, but mostly move your arms, sort of like you're stretching. It gives you a chance to breath and to rest your trembling limbs.

She also looked askance at me when I started out my swim by heating myself up in the sauna. (The pool water is icy...) But I mostly got through it. When I pick Ali up from her conditioning sessions, she's sometimes a little loopy, and we blame it on her endorphin high -- a phenomenon I've never really experienced.

On Sunday, she had homework and a friend coming over, but she wrote me out a schedule to follow, using all the things she'd shared with me the day before. I told her I'd do my best.

I did 20 minutes on the treadmill to warm myself up and to finish a book, then a small stint in the hot tub to keep the inner heat going. There were a couple of women in the hot tub chattering away, but we paid each other no mind.

I did have to resort to my lifesaving stroke a couple of times, but I finished everything Alison had laid out for me and I might have met an endorphin. I was just as shocked as you are.

In fact, I was about to quit when I went back to the little sheet she'd written out to discover I only had one more thing to do -- and it was a cool down! 

So, I survive, and I stumbled out of the pool. I was headed for the sauna, which is in the middle of the Woman's Locker Room, to dry off a bit and recover. I had worn my glasses to the gym, and didn't have them on. My muscles were all tremble-y, I was exhausted and blind.

Which is how I ended up in the Men's Locker Room.

I could hear the shower going, and I had my hand on the sauna door, thinking, this lay-out looks a little different than what I remember. It was the row of urinals that brought it home, if not in full focus.

I didn't think I had it in me to scoot as fast as I did out of there, but I slipped and slid my way to the next door down and found myself where I belonged. I think it was in the escape that my endorphin made its presence known.

I sat down, still blind and laughing a little bit at myself. The women I'd seen in the hot tub were in there. My heart was still beating out of my chest from the Men's Locker Room detour. They were still chattering.

One of them was complaining about the latest news about the DNC, Hilary Clinton and the new book out about the influence her campaign had wielded. The woman was outraged. Her companion tried to dial her down, and I tried not to listen. But it's a small sauna. I was blind and under control of the lone endorphin.

I said, "You know, the DNC was nearly bankrupt," trying to support the other woman's message and imply the Clinton campaign had offered an investment and expected a return.

The angry woman whipped around to look at me, tells me she wasn't talking to me, I had no part in her discussion and she didn't care about my opinion.

I sat there silently for a nanosecond. I not only didn't know the women, I couldn't even see them as I didn't have my glasses on and I was still coming to terms with the lone endorphin. I was more amused than angry, but I was surprised at her vehemence.

I said something like, "It's not so much an opinion as a fact, but OK."

The women then left, the second one turning around and apologizing as the angry one flounced out. I stretched out, wondering if I'd just dreamed the exchange. Had I butted in? Sure. But it's a small sauna and it seemed like they were reasonably current, intelligent women.

I think that angry one needs to meet an endorphin. That'll settle her right down.