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Swimming and Other Hazards of Key West, part I.
“Come swim, you’ll feel better.”
I was coming off a series of night shifts and the sun was starting to dart in through the cracks between my black out curtains.
“Ok ok, give me ten minutes I’ll get myself together.” I sighed in an attempt to try to get started, rolled to the side, and put my feet on the floor.
Ugh, it’s humid.
It was November in Key West. The Caribbean-like ocean water had finally cooled to a tolerable temperature for open water swimming. I opened my drawer with all my swim gear and grabbed the turquoise goggles, pink swim cap, and new triathlon bikini that would actually stay in place. I groggily went outside, unlocked my bike, and shuffled with it through the white fence that surrounded the yard. I threw on my small backpack of gear, got on my bike and headed to our spot.
“What do you want to do? The usual?” I asked her as we looked out at the White Street pier that was our normal practicing grounds.
“Yeah, maybe a little extra if you’re up for it,” she said, then peered behind her to the sandy palm trees. “Wait a second,” she squinted and stared at a seemingly homeless man who was sitting under the tree. Like many cities, Key West was full of homeless people, here, they made different parts of the island their…