Posted by: joha5 | April 6, 2010

Speedo Weirdo

If the concept of completely lacking motivation exists then, by default, being overly motivated must exist as well.  Being too motivated is actually a lot like not being motivated at all: you make mistakes that you normally wouldn’t make and you can really end up looking like a fool.  I know this because I experienced this yesterday.   

In my infinite wisdom after my post on motivation yesterday I decided it was time to kick my ass into gear and get motivated.  For me this meant going swimming after I finished work yesterday.  I absolutely love swimming.  To me it doesn’t really even feel like working out.  I swam all through high school, was the Varsity captain of my team for a couple of years, and even did it sparsely, albeit non-competitively in college.  There is just something liberating about jumping into the pool and being on your own and being able to keep yourself motivated to push through that extra lap.  Unfortunately, I have not swam much since I moved to London.  There seems to be a pool in every high school on every street corner around here but in Central London where I lived, you would be hard pressed to find a pool, much less one that was relatively affordable to use on a regular basis. 

Needless to say, it had been a while since I had donned my speedos, drag suit, and goggles.  When I arrived home after work yesterday I managed to dig them out of storage with relative ease and off I drove to one of the local indoor swimming pools.  Many things had changed since I had last swam at this pool.  The entire school had been rebuilt and the pool was brand new, I had aged about 6 years, I had gained about 15 pounds, the fee to enter the pool was now an extortionate $4.75, and I was much more out of shape than I was when I was last here.  However, none of this was going to stop me.  I was going to go swimming come hell or high water. 

One of the things I always hated most about swimming is having to expose yourself to other people in the locker room.  People say they don’t look and they all stare ahead awkwardly and position themselves in visually obstructive angles as they disrobe and put on their bathing suits but you can never be too sure that people aren’t peaking.  As a consequence, everybody does exactly the same thing.  They leave their shirt on hoping it will cover up their naughty bits for the 5 seconds it take off your underwear and pull up your speedo.  Now I have gone through this ritualistic dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times.  It is basically impossible to mess up.  I grabbed my speedo out of my bag, contorted my body so that my evil bits would no longer be exposed to the others changing, dropped my underwear and quickly pulled up my speedo. 

Dear God!  Have I really put on this much weight?!

This was the initial thought that went through my head.  I was shocked, disgusted, and furious with myself for letting my body get to this level. 

No.  This can’t be.  I can see my body and I know that I haven’t put on that much weight. 

This was my second thought.  I know! My speedos must have shrunk.  Something just doesn’t feel right.

Why is it so breezy in the back of my speedo and why does it feel like I am wearing a thong?  I have never felt this before!

This was my third and final thought before I looked down only to see my package completely flattened and realized that this just doesn’t look right.  I reached around behind me so I could feel the other side and it was at this moment that I realized what it was I had done wrong.

My speedo was on backwards.

Dear God.  It must look like I am wearing a thong.  I didn’t even bother to turn around to see if anybody was looking before I quickly ripped them off only to turn them around and put them back on again.  At first I was relieved because I realized that I had not put on much weight but that feeling of relief quickly gave way to humiliation when I turned around and saw two older men visibly trying to resist snickering at what I had just done.  To be honest, they did a much better job than I would have done had I witnessed that kind of event.  I quickly exited the locker room and jumped in the pool to start my workout. 

All in all, I swam just over 2 miles yesterday.  I took me a lot longer than I had hoped and my body was in all kinds of pain at the end but I felt like I had succeeded.  With the shaping of my new body underway I put my hands on the side of the pool so that I could jump out in a very sexy kind of Baywatch style.  Only my arms were so rubbery and laden with lactic acid that they couldn’t support me.  They buckled under the pressure and I slid back into the pool like a seal that can’t get any grip on the dock.  I tried once again to hoist myself out of the pool only to cause myself further embarrassment by falling in again.  Shamed, I had to swim over to the ladder and exit the pool in the same manner an obese retired woman from Topeka, Kansas would do. 

Never mind that, I thought.  I just had a great workout.  I went to the locker room to take my victory shower before I would get dressed and leave.  Maybe it was the combination of hot water and lactic acid or maybe it was the fact that I just hadn’t used these muscles in a long but when it came time to get dressed and to pull my shorts up I just couldn’t do it.  I know this sounds absurd but I just couldn’t get a good grip on the waistband of my shorts and for the life of me could not slide them one.  Shamed yet again, I returned to the shower stall to remove them, unbutton them, and then pull them up so that I could fasten them around my waist.  It was most definitely time to go. 

As I got in my car and turned on the radio I couldn’t help but feel like maybe I had overdone it a bit.  Maybe I had been too motivated for my own good which, in turn, led me to making an ass of myself multiple times.  Maybe I was just really out of practice, out of shape, and had to reestablish my swimming routine.  Or maybe I just looked like an idiot because sometimes there are days like that.  It doesn’t actually matter what the reason is so long as I, and the rest of you, learned the lesson to never turn your speedo into a thong in public.



  1. I, unlike the two gentlemen in the locker room, did not contain my snickering…. In fact, I nearly dropped my computer on the floor from convulsing in laughter. That and my face is wet from laughing tears.

    Oh, to have been a fly on the wall.

  2. Also, the seal analogy was genius.

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