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The pool to which I sometimes go for a swim is divided into six lanes, four for swimmers and two for walkers. Walking in the pool is popular, particularly amongst the older folk. I’m not keen on it myself, but will admit that it serves its purpose as a useful exercise technique. Whenever I go to the pool there is usually a combination of walkers and swimmers.
A while ago, however, while I was busy breast-stroking my way leisurely from end to end, a youngish man introduced an aqua-exercise I had never seen before. He was a man of the fuller figure; somebody who looked as though his usual exercise took the form of a quick dash to the cake shop. He waddled to the edge of the pool, and slid his hefty body into the water. Then he proceeded to do cartwheels. Being performed in the water, they naturally occurred in slow-motion. The rotund fellow did three and then got tangled up in the lane divider. After that, he switched to walking.
I learned two things from this experience. The first is that there are few things more amusing than a fat chap in a swimming cap performing cartwheels; the second is that it is extremely difficult to have a good belly laugh underwater.
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