More lane rage

I've just resumed my swimming regime, after a break of over a month. Not a day went by when I didn't feel guilty about abandonning my ritual, but my excuse was I had a cough and cold. In reality, it was the warmth of my bed which lured me to stay in it. All its fault! Naughty bed.

Anyway, I had pushed the dreadful memories of lane rage deep into the innermost caverns of my psyche, only to have them dredged up again the minute I stepped into the pool (or at least, 5 lengths after I did).

I was feeling pretty damn smug. It was Sunday morning and I actually had to wait for the attendants to open the ladies changing room to let me out. I was that keen.

The pool was entirely empty. All mine. You can't believe how good that feels. I chose the lane nearest the steps and plunged in and immediately set about my routine, which is fairly dull, breast stroke up and down, obsessively counting lengths. I was slightly put out when a group of men emerged from their changing room, spilling out like so many caged animals, but they very politely left me alone and chose other lanes to occupy.

So, I was lulled into a sense of false security, and even felt quite content, until I saw 'the enemy' approaching. A small, large lady, donning goggles, stood by the bar at the shallow end, RIGHT IN MY PATH. I was outraged, couldn't believe it. Surely she would move before I trawled right into her.....?

But no, she stood her ground, not an eyelash was batted, which meant I had to swerve to avoid her. Surely these are not the rules? To make matters worse, she then claimed my lane as her own, and proceeded to plod along, at a very leisurely pace, which meant that I had to veer to avoid her. At one point, just as I pushed myself off from the side to turn into length number 28 (where she was having yet another little rest) she started to follow me, but, of course, I didn't realise, because she was behind me.

Though it was not intentional, but simply because the stupid woman was following me too closely, I was quite pleased when I managed to kick her in the head. Hard. It felt good, and of course I could rest assured it had been an accident. I longed to manufacture a few more of such 'accidents', just to make my point. Or poke her goggled eyes out. I had to make do with mentally forming her into a voodoo doll and stick a great deal of pins in her.

I haven't heard of a drowning at the local pool, but I didn't see her when I went again today. But the big fat man made up for her. He did exactly the same thing. What is it with people? I'm beginning to feel persecuted.