The Lane

I swim at the local leisure centre as often as I can, before or after work, in lunch breaks that I return from wet-haired. When it’s busy, the lanes are thin and packed. When it’s quiet, they keep them wide and open. 

As I swim, I watch people. 

I am fascinated by what happens in a lane, this small and temporary community. We arrive semi-naked and vulnerable. We join wherever we can and the rhythm of the lane adjusts to each person who arrives and each person who leaves. We slow to each other’s paces, match tempos and strokes. We leave space between each other, room to breathe. We allow people who are faster to pass, gesture forwards as we empty out our goggles.

No one needs to say anything, although sometimes people do. I speak to a man who keeps losing count of his stroke. He is still going when I get out and I wish him luck. I speak to a woman who has an hour before she needs to pick up her child, ought to be swimming but can’t keep going. We talk about the importance of rest.

I swim after a man who glides his way across the pool and remember to point my toes. The person in front of me kicks their legs through a shaft of light and I remember to look at the way the sun cuts the pool in half and the water moves through it.

Of course, a lane also holds the things that make community hard. Early in the morning when there is a deficit of time the water boils with frustration. Swimmers move to achieve a set amount of lengths before they have to be at their desks or on a train. Those moving too slowly, pausing for a moment, hold them up. In the evenings, the pool is halved. Four lanes are taken up by swimming lessons, groups of young people swarming up and down. In the other half of the pool, the swimmers have time but they do not have space. Bodies move too close to each other. Frustration is all over people’s arms and legs. A thigh grazes an elbow and the bareness of skin makes it worse.

Where there is a lack of something, community struggles. In and outside of a swimming pool lane.

Community in a lane takes generosity, kindness, patience, and then offers it all back. Community in the wider world is no different. 

Now, when there is an empty lane available I do not take it. I prefer to swim with others.

First published in Unbound Zine: Issue Ten and then Snowflake Magazine: Anthology Issue II Digital Edition.