“Continuous improvement is better
than delayed perfection…”
- Mark Twain
Life gets simple when things go haywire in your body - accidents, illness, unexpected events that take you down. When this happens, everything slips away, and the focus settles squarely on getting better.
I knew I wasn’t going to die, but it was all I could do to get home and lie down. Tucking in, I lay motionless like a stone on a riverbank – a dead weight waiting for the wind and rain to wear me away, returning me to the elements from whence I came. The nausea was so bad, death might have been welcome…miserable would be understating!
The day arrived…
Friday was busy. In the morning, I met face to face with my department chair. It was the first time in a year. It was good but merely a temporary stop on my way to the afternoon. I had been thinking about Friday afternoon since confirming the lesson and, like a kid at Christmas, I could hardly wait!
I got to the pool early, and there she was. I waved and headed her way. She said she had a baby to teach, but we could get started as soon as the short session was over.
Backing up a little…
After a COVID break, I've been in the pool for several months. It is Olympic size, fifty by twenty-five meters. On most days, the lanes cross the width of the pool to accommodate more swimmers. Because of the COVID, one-hour blocs of time had to be reserved. Armed with a center-head snorkel and goggles, the fifteen hundred meters I usually get are mindlessly relaxing. Water acts as a large body stocking and lying horizontally removes gravity's tug on blood returning to the heart. It's a win-win for all three of us – body, soul, and spirit!
Over the past few months, I noticed a woman giving swim lessons. She stood out because she was dressed neck to wrist and toe in black. I was curious because black is a substantial heat sink! In addition, she wore a wide-brimmed hat with a lot of zinc oxide protecting her face. In sum, it was hard not to notice her. Additionally, she appeared to be obliviously focused on her students.
Backing up a little more…
The pool events in this year’s Tokyo Olympic games were impressive. Maybe more so for me because I had been in the water for a while before they began. The performances were terrific to watch. But the swimmer's doing flip turns at the wall of each lap was mesmerizing – poetry in motion, a dance so smooth and pleasing, the tumble turns alone kept me glued to the screen.
A kernel of thought began to emerge in the back of my mind.
I wonder if I could learn to do that?
Kismet!!
Earlier in the week, after showering and getting back into my shorts and mask, I thought.
If that woman is still here and not teaching when I leave, I will approach her.
Leaving the locker room, there she was!
Striking up a conversation, I asked if she might be willing to teach me to do a flip turn. She said she could, but in her experience, it was difficult for older folks to learn but added, "I’m happy to give it a try."
We set a date for the coming Friday, and I was over the moon.
Friday afternoon arrived, and there she was. I swam a few warmup laps while she was with the baby, and then the lesson began.
“Let me demonstrate,” she said. “The key is tucking your head, bringing your knees in, and driving with your arms forward to aid the rotation. Be sure to blow air out of your nose while turning so you don’t fill your sinuses with water.”
Great! Here we go!
I tucked my head, pulled my knees to my chest, blew air out of my nose, AND lo and behold!! I bobbed up and down like an apple in a tub of water - hmmm, that didn't work.
“Let’s try this, she said. “Push off the side of the pool, and then try it.”
Following her instruction, I got a partial flip.
"Not bad, for the first time, she said. “Let's try again."
By the end of the ten or so trials, I could execute what passed as a flip. It was kind of thrilling.
“Nice work,” she said.
This was step one. Approaching the wall, flipping, and pushing away was down the road, but this was a start!
I thanked her as we got out of the pool and noticed my stomach was a little unsettled. It was just a touch, but when I stood up, I began to feel increasingly nauseated. This wasn't good.
Getting to the locker room was challenging because it was getting worse. By the time I got to the car, I was uncertain whether I could get home. The ten-minute drive seemed like it took forever, and the nausea was not getting better but worse. Molly met me in the garage and helped me to the bedroom. By this time, the best I could do was get horizontal in the darkened room. Unlike the water, lying flat in bed was NOT edifying for my body, soul, or spirit!
Fortunately, I was able to sleep, and within a couple of hours, began to feel a little better trying to process what had happened. It was then I realized it was the balance center of my inner ear. The flipping in the water had been disorienting, and small fluid-filled canals in my ear didn't like it one bit. Unfortunately, it never occurred to me to have done a little work to prepare them for the challenge. So, they reminded me that balance and spatial orientation were their business, not mine. They made me pay and it wasn't pretty!
By Sunday, I felt normal enough to ride my bike with no balance problems. I decided that If I can't do this, I won't. But a single trial was not enough to dampen my enthusiasm.
Nelson Mandela once said, “Everything is impossible until you do it.”
We’ll see Mr. Mandela…we’ll see…
- ted
