I greet my new swim coach Matt at the pool. I've pulled my goggles as tight as I can to avoid the water leakage. I pull down on my swim suit as it was the only decent one piece swim suit I could find in my drawers but it's a bit on the tight side. We begin by Matt watching me swim a length a pool. I actually do OK - except I get to the end completely out of breath and coughing up the gallon of water I inhaled. I had told Matt the inhaling water part was the first thing we need to fix.
He tells me to keep my head down more and try and find the "pocket" near my armpit as I turn my head. Another length's swim and I'm only drinking a half gallon. A couple more lengths and I'm feeling like we're making progress, but I'm completely exhausted already and now only making it about 3/4 of a length before I revert to breast stroke.
We switch to some kickboard drills to give me a break. He wants me to start breathing every several strokes instead of every stroke and also to try bi-lateral breathing so I don't just get strong on one side and can swim straighter. Trying to breath on my right side proves to be a very foreign concept.
"I didn't do so well on that one," I declare so he doesn't have to tell me.
My long hair is in my face and I'm furiously trying to get the water out of my ear. He suggests a bathing cap and ear plugs for the next time. He has me swim a couple lengths without the kickboard and I'm really exhausted at this point, not making a full length.
"Come on," he says encouragingly, you can do it.
After 3 attempts, I finally swim a full length. It's been 45 minutes of a one hour lesson and we're both happy to call it a day. I promise to practice on my upcoming Hawaii vacation. After I shower and change, I look in the mirror and have to laugh at my raccoon eyes from the goggles.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Giving the Swimming Thing A Try
I decided I would at least get myself in the water once before my lesson. So, I approach the pool and take stock of the situation. I read a sign and translate that I'll have to be able to swim the length of the pool 9 times for a quarter mile or 18 times for a half mile. That doesn't sound so bad. And everyone in the pool calmly gliding in the lap lanes is older than me -- some by a lot as my gym caters to the senior crowd. I can do this, I tell myself. I try to remember my swimming lessons from 35 years ago.
And here's what I remember - I was always COLD. As a skinny kid, I had little body fat to keep me warm. I recall both the lessons at the community pool and at my summer camps where I would listen to the instructor (or perhaps not listen) as I continously shivered. Perhaps that is why every year when I would return for another year's lesson, I would take the test, and despite having passed last year's test to advance to the next level, I was put back at the previous year's level. Very disappointing.
At camp this meant that I could never swim beyond the boring area and join the other kids jumping off the rocks into the deep part of the creek. When we went on a hike to a waterfall, I wasn't allowed to slide down the waterfall into the deep area. I was forever a "red" (beginner) or "blue" (intermediate) cap but rarely made it to the advanced levels.
And then, there was a day that is forever etched in my memory. It was the day of my final lesson and test at the community pool. My parents, sister and I were packed in our '70's station wagon pulling out of our driveway when we saw something dead along the road. I wondered why my Dad stopped the car to go investigate the latest road kill. He returned to sadly tell us our dog Tippy was the victim. I cried all the way to pool and all the way through the test. I think the instructor passed me out of pity.
So, my swimming memories aren't exactly positive. As an adult, I don't dislike the water - I can tread water and swim a decent side stroke. It's just not a sport I took to and ever mastered. And, it's apparent that I can't even master putting on my newly purchased goggles as I jump in and they leak. I try and make some adjustments and then decide to just get going. I get halfway down the pool trying to remember a proper crawl stroke but I'm inhaling water and the chlorine is burning my eyes.
Well, the whirlpool in the corner is looking very inviting at this point.
And here's what I remember - I was always COLD. As a skinny kid, I had little body fat to keep me warm. I recall both the lessons at the community pool and at my summer camps where I would listen to the instructor (or perhaps not listen) as I continously shivered. Perhaps that is why every year when I would return for another year's lesson, I would take the test, and despite having passed last year's test to advance to the next level, I was put back at the previous year's level. Very disappointing.
At camp this meant that I could never swim beyond the boring area and join the other kids jumping off the rocks into the deep part of the creek. When we went on a hike to a waterfall, I wasn't allowed to slide down the waterfall into the deep area. I was forever a "red" (beginner) or "blue" (intermediate) cap but rarely made it to the advanced levels.
And then, there was a day that is forever etched in my memory. It was the day of my final lesson and test at the community pool. My parents, sister and I were packed in our '70's station wagon pulling out of our driveway when we saw something dead along the road. I wondered why my Dad stopped the car to go investigate the latest road kill. He returned to sadly tell us our dog Tippy was the victim. I cried all the way to pool and all the way through the test. I think the instructor passed me out of pity.
So, my swimming memories aren't exactly positive. As an adult, I don't dislike the water - I can tread water and swim a decent side stroke. It's just not a sport I took to and ever mastered. And, it's apparent that I can't even master putting on my newly purchased goggles as I jump in and they leak. I try and make some adjustments and then decide to just get going. I get halfway down the pool trying to remember a proper crawl stroke but I'm inhaling water and the chlorine is burning my eyes.
Well, the whirlpool in the corner is looking very inviting at this point.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Cathy's Sparks of Inspiration
I suppose it started last August when a colleague of mine did the NYC triathlon.
"It sounds challenging and fun but I could never do the swim," I declared.
He proceeded to tell me the swim wasn't that bad when you consider it's a down current swim on the Hudson and the wetsuit gives you some buoyancy.
I tucked the thought away and said, "Well, maybe someday I'll put it on my bucket list."
When my husband and I travelled to Catalina Island, CA in November we encountered and spoke with a number of triathletes who had just finished a triathlon. I was intrigued.
Then there was another encounter with someone my husband Mike works with. She had done some triathlons and told me she too had needed to learn how to swim.
So when I walked into my new "winter gym" - the Tully Health Center in Stamford, CT that I had won a 3 month membership to at a silent auction - and I saw an inviting pool and a sign advertising private swim lessons, I knew I had to at least give the swimming thing a try.
"It sounds challenging and fun but I could never do the swim," I declared.
He proceeded to tell me the swim wasn't that bad when you consider it's a down current swim on the Hudson and the wetsuit gives you some buoyancy.
I tucked the thought away and said, "Well, maybe someday I'll put it on my bucket list."
When my husband and I travelled to Catalina Island, CA in November we encountered and spoke with a number of triathletes who had just finished a triathlon. I was intrigued.
Then there was another encounter with someone my husband Mike works with. She had done some triathlons and told me she too had needed to learn how to swim.
So when I walked into my new "winter gym" - the Tully Health Center in Stamford, CT that I had won a 3 month membership to at a silent auction - and I saw an inviting pool and a sign advertising private swim lessons, I knew I had to at least give the swimming thing a try.
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