Old dogs? Not this time...

 “If you think you can or you

think you can’t, you’re right.”

- Henry Ford, founder 

Ford Motor Company 

 

Laura said, "Just lie back in the water, and imagine you are on a teeter-totter or floating on a cloud.” 

That was easy for her to say. She clearly did not understand.

“I would love that,” I replied, but my legs are heavy and always sink.”

Lucky me…

My family spent our summer holidays in the Muskoka region of Central Ontario on the shores of Lake Joseph. Mother thought it was a good use of her time to ensure her children would be safe around water, so she taught my sisters and me to swim.

She was clear, “There is nothing more wonderful than being in the water…there is also nothing more potentially dangerous.”  She wanted us to be safe.

Being able to swim and swimming are two different things. I was not a swimmer, but a ‘water player’ — meaning that when water skiing, tipping out of a canoe, or jumping off a diving board, I could survive in the water. But swimming for its own sake, you know, moving arms and legs over distance, just wasn't interesting – until…

Living in the sunshine on the coast…

Several years ago, we moved from Detroit to San Diego. I have been a recreational gym rat for years. I knew how important resistance training was to remain functional while growing older, so I joined a fitness center. There was a basketball court and a weightlifting area. But, as it turned out, there was also a large twenty-five-meter outdoor pool for lap swimming. 

A glass wall overlooked the pool from the weightlifting part of the gym, and I found myself, for reasons unknown to this day, watching folk swim multiple twenty-five-meter laps. It was like watching paint dry.

Ha! How boring that must be! I thought to myself.

The thing is, the locker room was shared by the swimmers and the ‘real exercisers,’ you know, ball players and weightlifters. I would hear these guys talk about how great and refreshed they felt after swimming for thirty minutes or an hour. Initially, I ignored the chatter.

Somewhere in the second month at the gym, I discovered I had contracted a psychic virus. It was so strong that I found myself in a delusional state, compelled to try swimming. I fought it, of course, but in the end, it was too overpowering. 

Purchasing a set of baggy swim trunks and goggles, I jumped in the water. What was I doing? 

While I knew a few different strokes from my mother (breast, side, and back), after fifty meters in the water the first day, I was exhausted. It was humiliating.

By two months, however, I was able to swim uninterrupted for thirty minutes…and, I hesitate to admit, was beginning to enjoy it. 

It turned out that this cabal of regular swimmers was very happy to share tips and tidbits that made the exercise more palatable, even on the verge of being enjoyable. 

In those two months, I ditched the baggy trunks for a pair of streamlined above-the-knee leg huggers — a real improvement. One fellow suggested I get a face mask and a snorkel for freestyle swimming. While this configuration prohibited side and backstrokes, it was great for breaststroke and freestyle. I was on my way.l

A significant issue I faced was the weight of my legs. When freestyle swimming, they sank, decreasing any efficiency and increasing the effort. To the rescue, another fellow suggested I ditch the facemask and side snorkel, opting for one that sits in front of the nose and between the eyes. That allowed me to get rid of the mask, wearing only a small set of goggles. The final item was a small buoy (float device) that, placed between my legs, prevented them from sinking. I was set!!

Note: I had gone to the snorkel in the first place because when I tried to breathe during freestyle, I got as much water in my mouth as I got air... the snorkel stopped that.

By then, I was living in Oro Valley, Arizona, and swimming at a local outdoor aquatic center, even during COVID.

 

Folks here in the desert are not so locker room friendly, but watching other swimmers smoothly moving through the water without a snorkel or leg buoys, I wondered whether I might also learn to swim without them.

Everyone needs a little help...

This is where Laura, my swimming coach, enters the story. For several months, I had seen this woman teaching young people, children, and babies to swim. I wanted to ask her if she would be willing to take on a geriatric client. I did, and she agreed. As it turns out, she is excellent.

So far, she has helped with intermittent non-snorkel laps. Breathing without drinking is still an issue, but it's improving. Legs, on the other hand, without the buoy, continue to sink.

“I have an idea,” she said during our last session.

 “Why don’t you just lie back in the water, and imagine you are on a teeter-totter or floating on a cloud?" 

“I would love that,” I replied, “but as I said, my legs are heavy and always sink.”

“Let’s try it anyway,” she said with a cheery smile, ignoring my protest.

Okay, if it makes her feel better…Whatever, I thought.

I lay back in the water, and with a bit of help stabilizing me, Laura let go. I lay on the top of the water, floating…floating! For the first time in my life...in my late seventies - legs and all!

“You believed you couldn’t, so you never tried or had anyone to teach you,” Laura said with a knowing look. “You only needed a little faith and a little help.”

I appreciate that floating in the water may seem like a small thing, but it was not a small thing to me. It was an epiphany, and I was over the moon. I'm still in the afterglow as I put fingers to keyboard.

An old dog? – Yep. 

A new trick? Yes sir, and it was a good one!

ted