Satan Invented Swimming
Growing up, I thought I knew how to swim. In reality, I knew how to float and tan. In my adulthood, I would add ‘drink’ to that summertime skillset. I don’t ever remember wearing goggles outside of Shop class in middle school. With no donut with drink holes in sight, I now need to figure out how I’m going to swim ¼ of a mile in this triathlon.
Swim practice is on Wednesday nights. The program has an amazing arrangement with Carroll University - full use of the pool, all night, for 14 weeks. We start every practice the same, the ‘athletes’ huddle for a few announcements about the schedule, sync our Fitbits, and receive a healthy dose of inspiration from Coach Leslie. Then, we do the damn thing.
The group is halved with 30 doing circuit strength training upstairs and the other 30 in the pool for laps and evaluation. On the first night, we’re divided into skill categories: those who don’t know how to swim, those who know how but would rather tan (this is me), those who know how and like it, and then, there are the Olympians. There was a rather even distribution in the four swim lanes with coaches ready to instruct each. The beginner category lane was flooded with Swim Angels. These are volunteers who know how to swim and better yet, know how to teach others how to swim. I was instantly astounded by the courage of the women entering that pool lane. A few of them had never even been in a pool. May God bless them with access to a noodle!
The other thing that made me pause was the evidence of women still battling or recovering from their cancer. The visible reminders are powerful: hair loss, chemo ports on shoulders and chests, savage burns from radiation, bandages and compression sleeves. All have become beautiful reminders of the incredible journey I’m just beginning. I still can’t quite wrap my brain around the strength that most of these women needed to fight their cancer and then, moments later, train for a triathlon. Family and friends have heard me state that I had a ‘touch of cancer.’ It was caught early (which I attribute to my annual mammo-in-my-birthday-month ritual), small, completely curable, etc. I only needed surgery and radiation with a 6 month inconvenience all-in (not counting the 10 years of pharmaceuticals). I say ‘only’ because I’ve been exposed to the spectrum of breast cancer diagnoses and if you have to get cancer, mine’s the kind to get. I got off easy with fatigue, a few surgical scars, and radiation burns. I don’t take my good fortune for granted and my prayer list grows with every new name I catch and swim cap I help adjust.
In the water, we’re asked to warm up with a 50-meter lap. Come again? Warm up? That seems like a full and complete workout request to me. One lap in … I'm breathy; two laps… I’m done. Wow, this is hard. I hang on the side of the pool trying to recoup as my lane-mates try to stay optimistic about the return trip to the starting side. I’m also totally off on my pool etiquette: stay to one side, give the person ahead of me some space, etc. Again, friends in floaties have no such rules.
Although, I can get to and fro, it becomes clear to me that I’m highly inefficient and lack productive form. During my many pauses, I began to watch the uber-skilled gals in the lane next to mine. Part cancer survivors, part mermaids. So impressive. Watching their approach instantly told me I can do better and differently.
I befriend a gal who made the same self-assessment as me… ‘we’re not doing this right’ and we instantly seek out the help of a Swim Angel. Full disclosure, Tiffany had the keen insight to cry auntie and engage the experts. I rode her wave and beelined toward the kiddie pool for a brush up lesson.
Kellsey, also part mermaid, was a genius teacher/Swim Angel. She had a host of water tools and drills to get me up and moving in no time. She instantly diagnosed my issue: I needed to get my butt up. Come again? Apparently swimmers swim with head and butt at water-line level. I make mental note to add this to the list of things that baffle me… gray hair, dry cleaning, achieving space between the thighs, Snapchat etc.
After much effort undoing the years of swim self-teaching, I got it. Swimming is so much easier when you have a suitable technique. I have a long way to go if I am to accomplish the ¼ mile swim I’ve been promised. I’ll get there… noodle and Swim Angel nearby if necessary.
Lessons learned this week:
Ask for help…early and often
Saying “I don’t know” is a sign of strength not weakness
Simple instruction and good coaching is the silver bullet to success at almost any task
Study the mermaids
Nose plugs don’t work
