Cheever's "The Swimmer"

My spouse wrote a news story about swimming the city's public pools in a single day. (Read it here.) He mentions the short story "The Swimmer," by John Cheever in the beginning. I'd never heard of this short story before the spouse started talking about it, but it's terrific. Neddy Merrill is at a friend's house when he decides to swim home, going from pool to pool in his affluent neighbors' backyards. As he swims he realizes that something isn't right, that his world is changing as he goes along.
The story isn't online, but there's an interesting tribute to it written by Michael Chabon (author of The Yiddish Policemen's Union and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay) in Salon. Read it here. It starts:

I read "The Swimmer" for the first time on my bed in the Maryland suburbs, one winter afternoon when I was sixteen or seventeen. I'd been skimming through a battered paperback anthology my grandfather had passed along to me -- "100 Stories Ruined by English Teachers," I think it was called -- starting one after another worn-out old chestnut, quickly moving on, when I reached the famous, classic, puzzling first paragraph that begins, "It was one of those midsummer Sundays when everyone sits around saying, 'I drank too much last night.'"

Chabon talks about how the story meditates on the inevitability of life's end. That's true, but I think it's also about the isolation of addiction. There's a lot going on there.
I can't find the story to link to; it's still under copyright. So go to your local library to find it; it's well worth reading.