November Theme Day: Out of Focus

My little camera is too small to take super-sharp 

action pictures. It's too dark in the Natatorium to get

clear shots of the swimmers at speed: 

in natural light, they appear blurred, but when I

adjust the shutter speed, the light goes away.

However, I actually like some of the results, which I

use as reference for my drawings.

At times, the swimmers seem elongated,

 becoming even more a part of the water.

I like to watch how the liquid moves and flows

around their bodies, separates and then

rejoins its fluid self as the swimmer

passes through.

When I am swimming myself, I like

to see the water flowing past my goggles

when I turn to breathe; the more correctly 

I am able to swim, the more

quickly the water seems to pass.

I actively look for it and know to adjust 

my technique if it isn't happening.

And then ... and then, when I look at the bottom,

the water breaks the gridded tile into

facets and even the long black stripe becomes

diamonds, drifting away into a blur.

The theme for the first day of November, 

in case you haven't figured it out,

is Out of Focus. To see how other members of

the City Daily Photo portal have

interpreted the theme, just click on the

nearby link, or on the CDP badge

to the right of this post. 

Gone Swimmin'

I got up early Saturday morning to be able 

to get to a swim meet on time. Afraid I'd sleep through 

the electronic beep of my radio alarm, 

I hadn't slept much the night before, so I was up

at 5 a.m., showered, had breakfast, made certain

my backpack had all the stuff I needed,

then left to catch the 5:45 bus.

A few minutes later, the bus rolled up, a giant

black box on wheels that held its light inside,

a lantern I could sit inside as the beacon

made its way downtown.

After transferring to a second bus

I arrived at an intersection where I walked

a few blocks east to the Ruth Lilly
Recreation Center found an outside entrance 
to the pool then sat down to watch the U of I
swim team's morning practice. 
On the way, I saw a lot of sculptures
dotting the campus grounds, some of them swooping
into space, others coming out of the ground,
as though born there.
The just emerging dawn lent a fresh feel
to the atmosphere and I felt as though I was
the first to see the world that day,
clean and new, unspoiled by greed and
current events.

I Didn't Want to Look ...

I almost didn't.

I went to a morning swim practice

Monday at the Riviera Club, then took 
the bus home. While headed west on 10th Street,

I saw two young women standing in the middle of 

the street. As traffic passed on both sides

of the women, I wondered, "What the hell?"

because the street is narrow.  

"What the HELL were they doing there?"

The bus slowed down and,

just before it reached where the women 

were standing, the bus driver screamed, 

braking to an immediate halt.

She unbuckled and leaped from her seat,

and was quickly on her phone to call for help. 

An oncoming driver had hit one of the women. 

I couldn't bring myself to look ... I don't have 

the emergency skills to assist an injured person. 

But when I finally looked ...  

the driver of the truck had come to a stop 

on the sidewalk and was out to check on the person

he'd hit. Other cars had stopped, the drivers had

gotten out to assist the victim and to

direct traffic around the scene. One of the bus

passengers was a practical nurse on her

way home from work. She pulled an

extra pair of surgical gloves from her pocket,

putting them on as she went to help.

On of the passers-by was an EMT who also

stayed on the scene.

It seems that anyone who had a phone

had called 9-1-1.

I see hatred and prejudice every day reflected

in the posts on FB and other on-line outlets.

But I didn't see it there, in the middle of the street

on Monday afternoon. All I saw was people,

black and white, working to help someone who'd

been injured. She was crying, scared, and hurt, 

but she wasn't alone.

Strangers had stopped to help.

I was reminded that I need to 1) take first aid classes;

2) people are generally decent and will do the right

thing; 3) never stand in the middle of the road 

to wait for traffic to pass, and 4) no one, except for

the POTUS or his equivalent, or a doctor, needs to be on

their cell phone while driving.

A Contrast in Grids

A couple days ago, I came upon 

this lovely tangle of knotted nylon.

The red tile and gray, gridded mortar 

on the wall provided a controlled contrast

to the sinuous coils of an unused 

volleyball net.

A Reflective Moment

This past weekend, I worked as a timer for 

the 2016 SwimFest, the long course championships 

for age group swimmers from clubs all over

the state of Indiana.

It is frenetic, crowded and noisy

with the shouts of family and friends

drowning out the sounds of the swimmers' 

rhythmic splashing as they swim

the length of the Natatorium's 50-meter pool.

Their slim, fit bodies belie the image

we get of the obese, couch-bound teenager;

these kids are fit, confident, and motivated. 

I am pleased to be able to help them

with my time because they also

serve to keep me motivated --

you have no idea how embarrassing 

it is to know that a 12-year-old can swim

any of their events in one-half the time

it would take me to do the same.

This pictures were taken after the meet Saturday night.

I was waiting for the bus as the sun set, 

and was able to catch the reflections of the fading light 

in the windows of the IUPUI Student Union 

building across the way.

April Theme Day: The Beauty of Simplicity

T'ain't much, but I enjoy the way the vines 

are meandering across the silvery boards,

creating a line drawing contrasting 

their wandering ways nicely 

against the vertical fence.

Loose Ends

Returning home from swim practice 

at Butler University, the bus 

passes this neighborhood variety store 

on North Illinois Street.

For whatever reason, I really 

enjoy the artwork painted on the

storefront windows.

In an era when the days of 

homemade, hand-drawn signage

is long-gone, it's a pleasure

to see that someone has gone to

the effort to create such a personal array

of images to showcase their wares.

March Theme Day: Where I Belong

I love the smell of chlorine in the morning.

Practices at the IUPUI Natatorium were cancelled 

because the Indiana High Shool Athletic Association 

was holding the Boys' State Championships 

this past weekend. Instead of swimming 

I volunteered to be an usher.

 Just like last week at the girls' championships, 

I was happy to be in the building, sharing 

familiar smells and sounds with thousands 

of participants and observers.

The boys passed time in the company 

of their team-mates, warming up in

the pool, chatting, and playing card games,

The sounds of cheering echoed from the roof 

of the Nat, as rhythmic sounds 

of the swimmers' kicking added a subtle

background line to the competition.

I wish that sound could be miked and

played during telecasts. Added to the way the 

water feels as the swimmer's arms pull

against it, and the way it looks as it rushes by

one's goggles, people might get

some understanding of the pleasure

one feels as one gets stronger

and more confident.

And feeling this is where I belong.

Love/Water

I love to get to the Natatorium early 

to watch the swimmers.

Very often there are large groups 

either practicing or warming up for competition.

The sounds of the water and the rhythm of 

people moving up and down the lanes

is both mesmerizing and comforting.

None of the pictures I've taken so far of

the swimmers has captured the fascination

I feel by the almost balletic routine

of their movements.

While swimming myself, I sometimes 

think of the swimmers and try to emulate 

their long line, keeping my body straight 

and toes relaxed yet pointed.

"Relaxed." Yeh, that's the big thing for me;

I don't think about going fast, I think 

"Technique, technique, technique. 

Technique fast, technique fast, technique fast." 

My body comes up "on plane" and I feel 

as though the water is zooming by me.

It makes a difference.

I count my laps. I count my strokes.

I cast a glance at the clock

and then turn my eyes toward the bottom

of the pool to begin again,

another step in my odyssey to achieve a dream.

My love for you is like water.

Clear as crystal, its currents weave through,

creating inclusions, weaving, changing

yet always there, adding depth

and bands of color, rainbows of feeling 

from the darkest indigo

to the happiest of yellows.

Fight it and you flounder.

Rest quietly and it will support you,

carrying you to the other side

as quickly or as slowly as you may care

to go, but always there.

Splash 'n' Go-Go-Go

For over a month, production crews worked

at the IU Natatorium to prepare the pool for telecast of

the 2015 Mutual of Omaha "Duel in the Pool."

People who come to swim at the Nat on a regular

basis were impressed by the "makeover."

Used to the somewhat stark functionality of the pool and

it's fluorescent and LED lighting, it was wonderful

to see it transformed by blue and sparkly lights.

The main competition pool, actually 50 meters

in length, is transformed during the winter

months by bulkheads to create two 25-meter pools. 

What I found intriguing was that crew members

had constructed stadium seating on/over 

the north end pool using portable dock elements

for the base. I wondered how the water displacement 

had been calculated: the section shown in the top picture

from the first railing on back is essentially an island

with seats for, I believe, 560 spectators.

The place was sold out. 

The pictures above and below were taken of 

the first event of the Thursday evening session, 

the Women's 400M Individual Medley.

Each young woman swam 100 meters each 

of four different strokes, opening with butterfly,

then backstroke and breaststroke, ending with freestyle. 

Points were awarded based on each competitor's 

result, with the winning team determined 

by which had the most points.

Swimming meets are loud, boisterous events.

Encouraged and abetted by booming, energetic music,

this one was no exception. People cheered 

on their favorites and were even more heartened

by close competition, such as that in the

Women's 400 Meter Medley Relay.

I always leave meets excited and determined

to improve my own swimming. I'm certain 

that the many children who attended

with their parents and coaches felt the same way.

They watched and hoped, knowing that with hard work

they may one day be able to swim in similar

water, to bring home medals of their own.

I'm affected, too, wanting to take

my own swimming to a better level.

However, no matter how hard I may work,

my own best efforts will always take about twice

the time these athletes achieve.

It must be the purple suits. I want one.

Ready, Not Ready

We returned to the Natatorium competition pool

for practice last week. I was happy to be

back in "good water" that was cool and calm,

meant for swimmers.

"Meant for swimmers" is the operative term

here, because the Nat is a world class facility.

I walked in last night to see not only kids from a couple

of high schools practicing, but black-clad

members of a production crew hanging

steel framework for lighting and camera equipment.

This equipment will be used in about

a month's time, when the meet between teams

from the USA and Europe will be telecast by the

NBC Sports Network, December 11 and 12.

Called the Mutual of Omaha "Duel in the Pool," 

the meet will bring together top swimmers 

from both the USA and Europe in the eighth renewal 

of an event that has always provided 

top-flight competition.

(Buy tickets and attend; it is an exciting,

invigorating occasion.)

Meanwhile, following the behest of our coaches,

the masters swimmers, most of whom are old enough

to be the parents of the likes of Ryan Lochte,

Missy Franklin, and Michael Phelps,

swam their workouts beneath the rigging,

as slim and fast in our minds, if not in fact,

as our elite chlorinated comrades

Almost Ready

Since March, the Natatorium at IUPUI has been undergoing 

the first phase of its renovation.

For a long while, water was kept in the pool to prevent

possible damage from falling tools.

The lane lines were loosened, floating on the water 

all summer. Recently they were removed,

the pool was emptied, repaired as needed, then

cleaned and polished. The diving platforms

were shrouded in plastic like a Cristo installation,

then they, too, were resurfaced, making ready

for the next practice of aspiring divers.

For months, I've stood like a child in front

of a candy store window, watching the tile setters

at their trade. Now the workmen are cleaning 

up the dust of their work, the pool has been refilled 

and will, once again, be cleaned for swimmers,

who will return for their practice sessions

in about two weeks. I can hardly wait.

Just a Sliver

Mornings are beautiful, even the gray, rainy ones.

Saturday morning, I left to go to a little

swim meet, and stepped out into a cool day,

with the sun just beginning to nudge its way over

the tree line. It was still inky black

and a sliver of moon rested its bottom

on a wisp of passing cloud, just below the

remaining stars. I stood at the bus stop and marveled

at it all. If I didn't get up early to swim

I'd never have gotten to see this wonderful,

starry morning.

Strawberry

Oops! There it was, spray-painted on the sidewalk,

a few inches from the foundation of a shop

 on Delaware Street. I'd stopped in at a runners'

specialty store to purchase an item and noticed

the solitary strawberry as I left.

No reason. No copy. No identification,

just a solitary picture of a bit of fruit

to decorate the cracked sidewalk.

Tools

Here is an unusual still life -- the tools that serve 

to help me become a better swimmer.

Most days, I travel to and from practice with

a pair of what looks like a pair of blue fairy wings

sticking out of my backpack. 

They are fins designed to help me improve

my position in the water, to strengthen my kick,

and to help my ankles increase flexibility.

I can tell you that, from the first I could feel the effects 

of the fins, strengthening the muscles of my butt.

The pair of green leaf-like objects are

hand paddles, meant to add resistance

as one pulls against the water. They also serve

to help the swimmer achieve the correct 

position for their hands as they enter the water. 

It's a purposeful action; the incorrect angle just 

about brings one me to an embarrassing 

halt in the water until I get myself 

sorted out to begin again.

The paddles come in graduated sizes.

These are the smallest because

I have a bit of osteoarthritis in one shoulder

and too-large paddles can cause injury.

The goggles and swim cap are more familiar

items, with my silicone cap having

a Roy Lichtenstein-inspired design, in keeping

with my artistic interests.

The last is a pink and black pull buoy,

a piece of dense foam rubber one puts

between one's legs while practicing "pull sets,"

which is swimming without kicking 

in order to strengthen one's arms. 

The buoy helps to maintain body position.

I've added these training aids bit by bit

on my own. As I've improved and become

stronger, I started to look for additional assistance

to be more able to compete keep up with

my teammates. I've started to have goals for myself

that go beyond just getting to the other end

of the pool; I've started to think about winning.

And that's scary.

What's a "Lido"?

We've entered the last few weeks of summer. 

The light is changing and the days are getting shorter.

The water in the pool at the Riviera Club is 

getting cooler; we swim in and out of shaded 

and sunlit patches, the temperatures 

markedly different in each one.

I like the cooler water, prefer it even, to the

warmer temperatures that are really tiring to swim

in for a length of time. Yeh, I bitch and moan,

but it's really pleasant overall.

The Riviera Club is old, opening in 1933, 

and has that gangly spread out feeling of having

been enlarged and expanded into spaces

wherever they can be found. It has a homey, 

comfortable atmosphere. The pool is the size

of two (American) football fields with areas 

for lap swimming, water exercises/calisthenics, as

well as slides for children in a large baby pool.  

I've often seen pools called "lidos" on an English

website called Outdoor Swimming Society.

The term, I think, came from the Italian word for beach

and refers to outdoor public swimming areas

and their surrounding facilities. 

I've often wondered whether the Rivi 

may be regarded as a lido. Even though use of

the facilities usually requires membership, 

non-members may participate for an additional fee.

No matter, this is *my* little bit of Venice.

My own lido.

Talking to Each Other, Not Their 'Phones

A post on The View from Squirrel Ridge reminded me 

of this photo. I took it a couple weeks ago 

while walking along the Central Canal.

At the first sign of warm weather, people use the

canal for exercise - rowing, kayaking, or

using paddle boats to travel its 1-1/4 mile

length. Located in downtown Indy, the site is

also popular with workers as a place for a lunchtime

stroll or run. While swimming is not allowed,

the canal is opened several times a year

for the swim leg of a triathlon and

a couple swim competitions.

The swimmer below was participating

in one of those recent events.

Home Remodeling

Friday, I went to a mid-morning swim practice 

at the Natatorium. Somewhere in the back 

of my pea-brain, I'd expected we'd be using 

the main competition pool. 

After all, it had been used for the 

YMCA Long Course Championships 

just the week before, right?

I was surprised to see the lane lines loosened 

and floating in the pool like a necklace 

of beads, thrown down after a night of hard partying.

What? No men in Speedos?

Instead, workmen with jackhammers were hard 

at work, tearing up the remaining sections of tiled 

deck that hadn't yet been replaced.

We used the instruction pool to the north

that is separated from the competition pool

by a long glass wall. It kept out most of the sound

of the jackhammers - until one put one's

head in the water, where it echoed for the entire

time I was in the water. Overall, though,

it was a quiet place, with just the sound of

Coach Craig's voice as he gave instruction

to the swimmers.

I've missed my home. Last week was like meeting 

an old friend on the street and today's swim

was working towards a reunion, one that I am 

looking forward to this November, after the current 

phase of remodeling is complete.

Indy Canal Sharkfest ... Better Late Than, Well, You Know

Sunday afternoon, I went to a meeting at the Natatorium.

While there, one of the organizers commented 

on the Central Canal, and asked whether or not 

swimming in it was allowed.

The woman was from North Carolina and

was fascinated with the idea of swimming its length.

Another IAM member who was present 

and I told her that, other than for sanctioned events,  

swimming is not allowed. So far, there have 

been two swims, with a third scheduled 

as the initial leg of a triathlon. 

These pictures are from the inaugural Indy Sharkfest 

Canal Swim, held last Saturday, July 25.

The top photo was taken just after the start of

the 1500-meter race at the Ohio Street

basin, across the street from the Indiana Historical

Society. Participants swam north that morning, to finish

at the 11th Street basin, just below Buggs Temple. 

The Canal, a part of the White River State Park,

is a popular destination for residents and visitors alike,

providing a tree-lined, easy connection between 

the downtown area and museums. 

The gondolas live under the Michigan Street

bridge when they are not being used to give visitors

rides along the Canal's beautiful length.

P.S., The only sharks to be found in the Canal

are goldfish, some of whom were hired to tie little

shark fins to their backs and nibble the toes

to encourage the slower swimmers.