This Lane Is Your Lane, That Lane Is My Lane

The Etiquette of Swimming

At the moment, I swim at three different North Carolina pools.  One is the YMCA in Durham, which has six wide lanes and a huge variation in the number of people who show up, but almost never is the pool full (two people per lane).  I also swim at the Y in Asheville, which is an older building which similarly has one whole pool devoted to lap swimming,[1] but the lap pool has only four lanes, noticeably narrower than those in the Durham Y.  I also sometimes swim at the Orange County Sportsplex in Hillsborough, a beautiful new facility that has two mammoth pools; the lap pool can be set up lengthwise for 25-meter laps or widthwise for 25 yards.  At the moment it’s meters.  There are ten lanes, every bit as wide as those at the Durham Y.  Easily wide enough for sharing.

But nobody seems to share.

I’ve been swimming at the downtown Durham Y since it opened in 1996.  Prior to that I swam in the ancient, murky, warmish pool at the Lakewood Y, my only option; I swam there for nine years and have fond memories of it.  I was often the only person swimming, or there might be one other.  I didn’t know what to think when the new Y opened, but I gave it a try; I was stunned to find two pools with one devoted to lap swimming all the time (the Lakewood Y had scheduled lap times).  The facility was beautiful, and I immediately started swimming there.

At that point, I had rarely shared a lane.  I often hadn’t even shared the pool.

Through the years, the Y has gotten larger and larger in membership, and more swimmers have shown up.  There’s a certain group that shows up in the afternoon—all pools have such groups—and we’ve gotten to recognize one another, though we don’t always know names (I know people by their strokes.  I can enter the vicinity of the pool and instantly see who’s there).  We prefer having our own lanes but are happy to share when the place is crowded.  The swim team shows up at 3:45, so we’ve got to finish by then.

I began swimming in Asheville when we lived there in the summer to take care of my wife’s parents; for five years she rented half a duplex for the whole year just to be there in the summer and at academic breaks; later we had a chance to buy the family homestead and gradually did that.  In the early days, I might have to share one of those narrow lanes, which was more difficult than at the Durham Y, but again, people expected to share.

Both of these cities—Durham and Asheville—have seen huge growth in recent years, Asheville because people are moving away from more crowded states (Texas, New York, Florida), Durham because tech businesses have moved to the area.  Both pools have gotten more crowded, the Durham Y with young athletic people, Asheville with retirees.  Both Y’s are getting run-down, but there aren’t a lot of choices for swimming pools.  So we make do.

The Asheville Y is wild.  It’s common to show up and have every lane occupied by two people.  Most people prefer to wait, but some ask the occupants to circle swim, the procedure for three or more people in a lane.  It’s quite something to see even eight people in that pool, much less ten or eleven.  People who have stumbled in for the first time are stunned.  But those of us who go often are used to it.  We talk to others as we wait for a lane, greet people as we get into the pool.  There’s a feeling—quite literally—that we’re all in this together.  If we can have a tiny sliver of water for a period of time, we’re content.  It’s water; we’re moving through it.  It’s the greatest.

I go to the Asheville Y thinking of every day as an adventure.  You have no idea what the hell will happen.

Sometimes at the Durham Y, I see a little resentment on the face of people (especially young people) when I ask to share the lane (the feeling seems to be, Who’s this old fart?), and I want to say, I was swimming here before you were born, you little twit.  I’ve belonged to the Y for 39 years.  But I don’t.

I started going to the Hillsborough pool because they don’t close during thunderstorms (an occupational hazard for Y swimmers.  One clap of thunder and the pool closes for thirty minutes.  If there’s another clap after 29 minutes, it’s another thirty minutes).  North Carolina in the summer is prone to afternoon thunder showers.  In Asheville, that adds to the suspense of going to the Y, but I don’t have an alternative.  In Durham, I can always drive the extra ten minutes and go to Hillsborough.

It is by far the most beautiful facility.  There are ten wide lanes (the end lanes are especially wide) and the water is clear and cold.  But nobody shares.  The place exudes a feeling of: I paid for this membership and I got here early and I got this lane and you can go fuck yourself.  It’s a bunch of middle-aged, nearly all white, swimmers (the Durham group is more diverse).  They’re very proprietary, though it’s not a posh place.  For a senior, it’s cheaper than the Y.

When I was there the other day, two of us were waiting for a lane, and the guy in the wide end lane was getting out, so the other guy waiting asked if I would share (I’d gotten there first) and I said of course.  There was plenty of room.  Mammoth.  In Asheville that would have been two lanes.

I don’t think that people in Hillsborough are greedy.  It’s just that, when you have such abundance, a whole new facility like that, you want to enjoy the luxury.  You want it all to yourself.  But places change, as do populations (especially in North Carolina, which everyone seems to be flocking to).  There will be a time when people in Hillsborough need to share lanes.  They’ll learn to do it.

I love swimming pools and I love swimming.  I love the people who come to swim, love watching the way they swim; I actually like talking to them.  And I will admit that the Hillsborough pool is the best place to swim.  But the best feeling is at the Asheville Y.  It’s more like, We’re all swimming together and we’ll find a way to do it.  There’s room for everybody.  Jump in and we’ll figure it out.

[1] As do all these places.  There’s a lap pool and a separate pool for recreational swimming.