You Can Do It, Too! Twelve steps to setting up an above ground pool for swim training

by CBCG athlete Amy VT

Enid Waller Flynn has been training in her backyard for months!

Above ground pools aren’t just for kids anymore. When travel restrictions and sheltering frothed up to its panicky height in March, I was in Mexico at the “Last Race on Earth:” Campeche 70.3. I succumbed to the panic, considering rerouting my flight to go live with a friend who has a pool. Back home, I avoided soc media posts of peeps in warmer climates bragging about open water swimming, or better yet, their backyard pools. I know at least five other pro women who have a private two-laner, and my envy ran deep.

Because: we can’t afford a pool, even an above-ground one, right? Wrong. In a fit of masochism, I checked out the app that rhymes with wamazon. A big guy, like, 13 feet (to accommodate my husbo’s preternatural wingspan) was only $330.00! The necessary trappings (why do we need a filter?) put it just above $400, and a colossal box showed up on our doorstep in a week. If you have any inkling to get your own, here are my steps to setting it up for swim training, rife with some mistakes to avoid unless you want to get on AFV (America’s Funniest Videos, duh).

My first swim, doing it wrong (no buoy, pipe insulation to protect the pool, or lube for my waist)

1. Buy a big enough pool. You need to ensure it’s deep enough for your downstroke with a paddle, which is well over two feet deep. It must be long enough for your outstretched body, arms up, and then some. We went with a 13’ x 7’ x 32” rectangular variety, and unfortunately, it’s a bit too shallow for gorilla man.

2. Buy a bunch of other shit. You definitely need both a corresponding filter, and a sterilizing mechanism. We went with a bobber that dispenses chlorine tablets, and hopefully zaps out pee when our friends’ kids visit. You might also need a pool cover, an extra tarp for ground cover, and an anchor-bungee system, unless you gots the stuff to DIY the latter like we did. Here’s everything you need:

• pool

• filter

• sanitizing system

• anchor-bungee-tether-belt system

• ground tarp

• pool cover

• thermometer

• paddles and buoy

• pipe insulation (or something to protect your pool if your tether rubs it)

• lube or a surfing rash guard (which doubles as sun protection) to prevent terrific waist chaffing

The essentials [not shown: filter, swimsuit (optional) pool]

3. Clear out a space. It has to be, like, totally level. Haven’t you seen all the AFV clips of collapsing above ground pools? Albeit entertaining, collapse is inevitable if your pool is even slightly listing. We’re fortunate to have a cement area slightly larger than our pool, but we still laid down a yoga mat on a crack, and a tarp to protect the pool bottom from abrasion.

4. Call your water co. Just dial up the main number on your water bill, and they’ll take it from there - not their first rodeo, especially during the pandemic. Tell them your projected day of filling, and how many gallons you predict. In turn, they’ll predict the cost, and even let you know if there are any tricks like your local fire department offering free fills from hydrants.

5. Erect it. Read the directions first, dude. Have you ever tried to assemble an IKEA anything without following the directions? How far didjya get? There are straps to lay down first, and then an iambic pentameter of poles to connect and wriggle through little condoms of the pool edges. If you cut a corner, that last pole won’t shimmy in anywhere. The good news is that it’s not a huge athletic feat, and I actually did it all on my own.

6. ATTACH THE FILTER FIRST. Um, trust me, do this before you fill the pool. “OHHHHHH SHIT!” I collapsed to my knees as I read this little part of the instructions after the pool was full. We decided to try to attach it anyway, dramatically orchestrating a four-handed maneuver on the count of three (wait, 1-2-3-go, or 1-2-go?). Hoses snaked and spewed water like errant fire hoses, and water rushed out the valves as we tried to attach and clamp. We did it, but lost a lot of water and ended up drenched. I wish we captured on vid, since we’d surely make AVF.  

7. Fill. We thought we were so clever, rigging up a circuitous hose from our washing machine’s hot water faucet head all the way to our back yard. Uh, the hot water ran out in a half hour, which equals ankle-deep in pool speak. Moreover, your pool will go through menopausal changes of temp, heated by the sun during the day, and dropping at night, so its starting temp is insignificant. It doesn’t take that long to fill! Ours only took five hours, um...the first time....😬

8. Check the level. You can’t use a level on the rails since they’re all independent, so unless you have a 13’-long level, the best way to gauge is by eyeballing the vertical posts and buttresses. After we filled, we faced a singularly anticlimactic frustration. Everything was listing. I thought we could just lift and shimmy all the poles to straight, when husbo reminded me that we were dealing with several thousand pounds of weight and pressure. We had to drain it. Boo. But, we totally fixed the prob by using flagstones to prop up the sinking poles and buttresses.

9. Add your sanitizer. Again, we went with this cute little bobber that dispenses little chlorine tablets. Bonus: it also reads the temp. There are myriad systems available, of course, and I’m personally curious about switching to a saline option.

10. Rig your anchor-bungee-tether-belt system. I just have to brag. I banked on at least five tries before I rigged a perfect length and tension, but I got it right the first time. One classic size bungee + one small exercise band + the belt and tether from our parachute pool resistance trainer = parfait system.

Enid Waller Flynn uses a tree for an anchor

11. Protect against strap friction. If your anchor is so low that it rubs the rail of the pool, you’ll need to protect it. I tried tapes, which all rubbed off, and settled on pipe insulation secured to the rails.

12. Swim. You’re ready to roll! Well, I’m guessing you’ll need to play around with length and bungee tension, but once you’re there, you can swim anytime you damn well please. A pull buoy will keep you from fighting the drag, which is intensified when you’re attached to a tree, although you’ll get a wicked leg workout if you don’t use one. Paddles are clutch for maintaining key swim strength.

If you have access to a small in-ground pool, man are you lucky! You can simply fix your anchor-bungee-tether-belt system to a ladder. Many condo or private neighborhoods feat. these pools, as do hotels, thereby changing the way we swim train when we travel. When we travel again, I’ll be toting by tether.

CBCG athlete Becky Matro can actually get a workout in her neighborhood tiny pool!

Bonus features: your friends with kids are more apt to visit, you have an outstanding cooling arena to drink some margaritas on hot nights, and you need not even wear a swim suit if that’s the way you want to roll. Pretty much every hot evening, this guy can be spotted cooling off, splashing around, and talking to his new friend:

Chris Bagg and his Merduck

Most importantly, please set up a constant video recording of the setup process, and pretty much everything you do in the pool from then on. The chances are so high that someone will slip and fall, or a pump hose will go wildly animated, or the whole pool will collapse, and don’t we all dream of ending up on AFV?