LEARNING TO SWIM

You’ve heard the adage, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Well, at seventy-six I believed I belonged to that category.But I wanted to learn to swim, and this summer tried to dispel that old saying.
For many years I wished I could, but did nothing so just continued to sit poolside or at the beach envying others who could. Wishing without taking action confirms another saying,”if wishes were horses, beggars would ride”.
On my last birthday, I came to the realization I was now a year closer to being a centenarian than I was to fifty, and the days were figuratively galloping toward that darker end.
I decided I’d take swimming lessons.
But I didn’t know where to get lessons for elderly(ugh, I hate that term!) persons, but luckily, my son knew a swim teacher who would. She was the mother of his daughter’s friend, and calling the NVS school, I was given an appointment for four private lessons in June.
As a college freshman, I had taken group lessons required of all incoming students unless medically waived. It was the one class I dreaded because I was convinced I had no buoyancy nor coordination to swim. I was especially afraid of deep water, a common fear of many of us who lived in rural Hawaii where only the ocean was available for swimming .
It’s difficult to learn in moving water, and going into the ocean with the tides moving the waves ever closer to the beach was frightening, especially when a huge wave hit us and pushed us down, covering our heads with salt water. Water went up our noses and into our mouths. Our non-swimming parents also discouraged swimming citing cases of persons who drowned swimming or while fishing.
In that freshman beginners’ swimming class of about twenty other non-swimmers, we tried to stay close to the shallow end. The coach paired us, and my partner, a big gal twice my size, would tug me hard when she panicked, causing me to fear I’d be pulled under.
There were girls we could dog paddle so they advanced quickly while we who couldn’t lagged behind.
During the nine-weeks class we went through the basics: floating on our backs had me sinking like a piece of lead; freestyle: my arms and legs and breathing weren’t coordinated and I swallowed water while some went up my nose, causing me to sputter and feel uncomfortable; treading water: going to do it in the deep end was frightening, fearing I’d sink and drown. I clung to the gutter and went through the motions and glad when the nine-weeks ended.
On the rainy afternoon of the final exam, determined I was not going to retake the class if I failed, I gritted my teeth, jumped and managed to get three-fourths of the pool’s distance!
Probably owing to my perseverance, the coach passed me with a “D.” He was coach to gold medal Olympians but alas, had not succeeded in teaching me or some of my friends to swim.
In the ensuing years, I enjoyed soaking in hot tubs and hot springs, but never tried “swimming” again.
My husband had worked as a lifeguard and swim instructor during his college years, but you know the adage, “You can’t teach your wife___(to drive, to swim, etc.)…” So while he and the children, and later the grandchildren, enjoyed swimming and frolicking in pools and in the ocean, I was always just a spectator.
“KLUTZ” is an apt description of me, poor in any physical sport except hiking.
But I decided if I tried, I just might learn to swim as I had learned to ride a bicycle at age thirty-one so I could cycle to grad classes rather than ride the bus.
To prepare for my swim lessons, I bought a new bright burgundy and aqua swim suit that,by summer’s end, had faded badly from the chlorinated pool water.
Although my private lessons were only fifteen-minutes each, I discovered I could float, albeit not well. I learned the basics of properly kicking, stroking and breathing. Learning one-to-one from a stranger who could critique and evaluate my mistakes, especially problems kicking/stroking with my left limbs, were more effective than had my husband tried to teach me.
In order to put newly taught skills to work, practicing was required. Thus we joined the gym to swim in their pools.
So the past two months, it has been PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE M-F with Coach Hubby. He has been patient and diligent to put the teacher’s lessons to work. Often it’s been “one step forward, five backward.” In an educational psychology class, the professor had lectured, “perfect practice leads to perfecting skills, while poor practices do not.” So it’s not been easy but I’m determined I’ll soon join others swimming recreationally, or, save myself from drowning if the need arises.
From joining the Gym, we have observed the water aerobics classes have some members using kick boards, belts, noodles and other floatation devices We have seen swimmers in the lap pools using fins and snorkels. I thus bought a floatation belt that has helped my buoyancy problem considerably.
While those who can swim without floatation devices may think it’s a crutch, I think it’s not different from persons who need a cane or crutches or walkers to aid them walking.
You won’t find me competing in the Senior Swim Olympics, but after this summer I hope to be a participant and not a perpetual wallflower.