Reading Time: 10–12 minutes
📌 Who This Story Is For
- You’ve witnessed the strange, parallel universe of weekday city pools
- You’re in your 40s–50s and feel like a veteran at work but a youngster outside
- Social insurance premiums make you wonder where your money is going
- You see energetic seniors and think, “So… are they healthy or not? Which is it?”
- You want to keep exercising even though motivation often refuses to show up
🎯 Conclusion
In a weekday pool, a man in his 50s suddenly becomes
a highly scouted rookie.
At work, I’m a seasoned veteran.
But once I step into the water, the compliments start flying:
“You’re so young!”
“You’re fast!”
“You really swim a lot!”
The gap is amusing, a little irritating, and somehow heartwarming.
And watching those seniors keep showing up every day makes me think:
“Honestly… I want to be like them someday.”
Complaints included, moving our bodies might be
the smallest but real contribution we can make to others.
■ Weekday Pools: A World of Their Own
No matter the timing—lunch break, between shifts, early mornings—
I try to keep a ritual:
swim at least 30 minutes every day.
I used to be a full-red-zone health disaster:
liver function, blood sugar, everything off the charts.
Daily swimming has helped reduce that to:
- Triglycerides: still high, but stable
- Blood pressure: weirdly enthusiastic (too high) → meds required
Still, that’s a massive improvement.
It feels like going from failing five subjects to failing one and a half.
Then one day, I walked into the pool during a weekday and realized:
This is a different universe.
Seniors in their 70s and 80s made up nearly the entire population.
It felt like entering a preview room of Japan’s future demographic chart.
And suddenly, I became “the young guy.”
Embarrassing? Yes.
A little delightful? Also yes.
■ The Generational Breakdown Inside the Pool
Here’s how the ecosystem works:
- 70s–80s: Absolute Monarchs
- 60s: Established Middle Class
- 50s: Young Talent (← me)
- Under 40: Rare, almost mythical creatures
Swim one normal 25m lap and I instantly hear:
“You’re young and fast!”
Me? The guy who loses balance putting on socks?
But here, I’m a rookie sensation.
The pool is wild.
■ The Strongest Opponent: The Wet Capybara Squad
The real challenge isn’t swimming technique.
It’s the group occupying the turning point:
The Wet Capybara Squad.
They stand in the water chatting endlessly,
floating peacefully like capybaras in a hot spring.
Adorable? Yes.
The ultimate obstacle? Also yes.
Their formation is so tight even a Roman phalanx would lose.
I try to pass.
They shift half a step.
Half a step is not enough, my friends.
Their routine:
- Talk
- Swim slowly
- Talk
- Backstroke
- Talk
- Repeat forever
This is not interval training.
This is Advanced Jaw-Endurance Conditioning,
with 95% of calories spent on conversation.
If they chatted in the jacuzzi, nobody would complain.
But walking there seems to require too much effort.
Are they energetic?
Are they tired?
Impossible to tell.
■ I’ll Be Honest: Their Relaxed Vibe Sometimes Annoys Me
I’m squeezing workouts into a busy schedule.
No luxury of time.
Seeing them peacefully blocking my lane can be… frustrating.
And their conversations are extremely vivid:
“About my grandchild…”
“My hospital visit…”
“My pension…”
The pension part?
That’s the only one I actually want to hear.
My future depends on it.
■ Their Era and Mine Are Completely Different
For their generation:
- Pension: small contribution, large payout
- Social insurance: cheap
- Economy: booming
Today?
My payslip looks like it’s been attacked by invisible thieves.
Of course the imbalance feels unfair.
But one day, a weird thought hit me:
“Maybe the warm water and their energy are partly powered by my social insurance premiums…”
Not funny, but somehow a little funny.
When I heard someone say “pension” at the turning point,
I nearly drowned from the shock.
Someone give me a waterproof mic.
That information might save my financial life.
■ Still—Their Persistence Is Really Something
I complain, but credit is due.
Rain, cold, heat—
they show up almost every day.
Talking or not, they move, they exercise, they continue.
Their consistency is incredible.
Will I be like that in my 70s?
Not sure.
But I want to learn from that persistence.
■ So I’ll Keep Swimming—Complaints and All
Nothing else will change:
- The system
- The seniors
- The Wet Capybara Squad blocking the turn point
So I must change what I can:
30 minutes a day.
Protect my health.
Slightly reduce future medical costs.
Lower the burden on younger generations—just a tiny bit.
My daily crawl might save Japan’s finances by
a few yen.
And that’s enough.
It has to be.
■ One Last Thing
I genuinely admire their energy.
And honestly, they’re fun to watch sometimes.
But please:
Stop blocking the turning point.
I am actually going to sink.
Still, when I’m in my 70s,
showing up every day, still swimming…
Someone will probably say:
“That young guy is still here!”
I want to hear that.
Although realistically,
I might be the one blocking someone else’s turn.
I’ll try my best not to.
Related Articles
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A relatable journey of getting back into exercise after facing tough health check numbers.③ Becoming an Astronaut in the Pool — My First Water-Resistant Earphones
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