Like swimming in a glass of Sprite

Normally, I'm about as clean-cut as they come. My electric razor and I share at least 10 minutes of quality time every morning.

With a looming project deadline, I woke up for work very early on Monday.... and in the rush forgot to shave.

Tuesday morning, already sporting 48 hours of scruff - I decided all bets were off, and I was going to grow a beard. (Well, at least go without shaving for as long as I can stand it or until my wife refuses to kiss me -- whichever comes first).

I swam on Tuesday at lunch. A little scruffy -- no big deal.

Last night was my Thursday night masters swim. After my second lap, I felt this odd effervescence like activity around my face. "That's strange, they must have put some new chemicals in ... or something." After my fourth lap - I clued in, "It's the scruff!"

Throughout the night, I must have dragged millions of tiny bubbles up and down the pool. It was an unusal sensation, not unpleasant, but definatley different. It was like swimming in a glass of Sprite.

The workout was 4,200 Yds (3,800 meters). I'm sure it was the added drag that caused me to run 15 minutes late! (or it could have been all the tiring kick and scull drills).