Flashes of Panic

I can't figure out what, exactly, this chlorinated-sweat smell resembles. Right now I'm leaning towards Comet, but it could be Mr. Clean.

The root of this is spending most of last fall sedentary due to plantar fasciitis. (Yes, that is the correct spelling.) I was swimming and pool-running for a while at the college, and in January I joined the YMCA for a while and really started putting some time in. Once we moved back to Amherst and it was reasonable to hit the College pool more often...

Well, the problem with inflammation injuries like PF and ITBS is that once the inflammation goes down, you can easily screw yourself up more by diving back into running too fast. I began to see swimming as a chance to keep my running reined in while getting back "in shape." (The fitness doesn't carry over entirely from running to swimming, but it doesn't hurt—and I did run my 800m PR after one of my seasons of swimming.) My brother gave me a goal to aim for: join him at the New England Masters meet at Harvard in late March (also known as the SCY, or Short Course Yards, championship, because it is contested in a 25-yard pool rather than a 50-meter or "Olympic distance" pool.) We agreed that I would attempt the 500 free, 100 breaststroke, and 100 free.

So, I've sent my membership check to New England Masters, and started attempting the "sets" on their website for distance free. Odds are pretty good that I will be last in my age group for all three events, but the Responsible Party pointed out that I would almost certainly be the fastest runner in the pool.