By Shoney

I did it, I did it! That great feeling again!

This week after my lesson with Beth I went to the pool every day to practice except one day when my arms were just too sore and I thought it best to rest up before my next lesson.

At my last lesson Beth asked if I had made it across the pool yet and that got me thinking. I hadn’t, and I wanted to. I made getting across the pool, on my back, in breathing position, rotating from side to side without changing my head position my goal. So I went into the pool, day after day, practice after practice, nose full of water over and over.

At Thursday’s practice I got into the pool and, right away, I completed my first lap across the pool on my back. I was so excited, but then couldn’t do it again. I was able to complete four or five strokes, staring up at the ceiling, trying so hard, and then I began to sink, my nose full of water, so far off balance I had to stand up. But I kept trying, over and over again. What is wrong? I think it is everything, keeping my body in balance, keeping my head correctly positioned – and my arms, they are throwing everything out of whack. The harder I try the less relaxed I become, the harder it is.

At Friday’s practice again immediately after I entered the pool I went across on my back feeling relaxed and happy the whole way. I wanted to shout with joy, wanted to say to someone, “Did you see that?” But then I lost it — my sense of relaxation, my balance, and could only get in four—five—six strokes in a row before falling apart and having to stand up. Still, every couple of times I started the length I was able to complete it, eventually doing five lengths – not in a row, but still — I did it. Ecstasy!

On Saturday I completed a length and then another – two in a row.  I had the whole pool to myself and I loved the quiet seclusion. It was snowing outside and the pool room was dark because the windows had fogged up. I tried to complete another length, failed repeatedly, and then just before I got out of the pool I did it — once, twice, three times, then four times in a row without sinking, without getting a nose full of water, without stopping and standing up for breath.

When I finally got out of the pool, my arms and shoulders ached. I was thrilled and sore and excited about the much-needed breakthrough after some tough weeks.

 

Dear Shoney: I am so glad you are starting to figure out that “less is more” in water.  As a swimmer one has to find the right balance between tone/tension and relaxation in the body. The core needs to be in a constant state of engagement, the forearms are toned only during the “catch phase of the pull” yet relaxed in the recovery phase. Just remember as you move back and forth across the pool that the effort comes from the pull, otherwise you are just riding the wave of momentum and rhythm. ~Beth

By Shoney

 

I wonder how many people — especially women — don’t learn to swim or know how but don’t do it because finding a sensible and comfortable but not frumpy swimsuit is almost impossible?

Recently I met my friend Rachel for Happy Hour after my swim class and she laughingly told me how a woman approached her once after she got out of the pool and said, “I hate to tell you but your swimsuit is falling apart in the back, almost transparent.” This led me to check out the back of my very comfortable, decent-looking swimsuit. Yikes — not yet transparent but clearly nearing the point where it might split during a swim class. I threw out the swimsuit in the locker room so I wouldn’t be tempted to wear it again.

Initially I felt proudly amused that I’d worn out a swimsuit, another first in my swimming adventures. Then I began to shop. The first issue was that most of the shops take swimsuits off their shelves in November – I’ve had good luck in the past getting Speedo, Nike, or others for a reasonable price. No luck. Next I went to the sports’ stores, but most of them had already removed their suits — the few suits left were cut so high in the thigh I couldn’t imagine that they would look good on anyone, of any shape. When I went to the specialty swim store, I found this same horrible cut, way up the thigh combined with the back being cut so low that I felt like a plumber (sorry, plumbers).

Finally, my partner, Carol, and I went out of town specifically to shop for suits. I tried on at least ten, always with the same problem – cut too high in the thigh, too low in the back, so frumpy that I felt like I was out of the ‘50s. It was pretty depressing. I finally found a suit that fit okay, though the pink design wouldn’t have been my first color choice. I asked her if she thought the suit would do — she stared not at the suit but my arms. “Look at your biceps! You have so much muscle in your arms!” I looked into the mirror again. I had been giving myself such a hard time over my belly, my butt, the stupid cut of the suits — and here was this precious new prize: muscles!

What do I want in a suit? I want to get in the pool and move, swim, without worrying that body parts are hanging out or crawling up. I want to be comfortable and focus on learning to swim. Is that too much to ask? It is hard work to learn to swim, it is involves a lot of courage and risk – the swimsuit shouldn’t be part of that.

 

Dear Shoney: I, too, have been noticing the muscles develop. Yay for swimming!  ~Beth

By Shoney

 

Lately I’ve been focusing on getting my legs and my lower body higher in the water and trying to kick harder so that I can hear the water splashing. When I try to kick, it is hard work. I have to stop, panting by the edge of the pool. I think of my legs as so powerful from years of running, but in the water they are not nearly as strong as on land.

Beth taught me to swim on my back with both arms up in the air, then down into the water, trying to kick twenty times between each arm stroke. It’s called double-arm backstroke. I can kick about ten times before I have to move my arms again which is an improvement — it means I can hold myself up on my back and move in the water just by kicking, which isn’t something I could do before.

Swimming – I have a hard time writing the word when it applies to what I am doing because it is so clumsy – on my back is easier for me than on my front. When I am on my front I can’t breathe on my left side, though I can on my right. This frustrates me. I wonder if I will ever figure it out.

I’m looking forward to the day that I go to the pool as my touchstone, the way I go to running. I run for comfort, as meditation. It reduces anxiety and allows me to mull over ideas and gives me pleasure. Since swimming doesn’t come naturally to me, I go to the pool often, five or six days a week. Sometimes I think I should get a prize for going so frequently.

Recently one of my mentors, a professor who changed my life by helping me become a teacher, a better parent, and a writer died unexpectedly. I thought about him while I swam – stunned by his death. Then I did what he would have advised, I wrote about it. He helped me become a better teacher by modeling good teaching, by helping me find/hear the voice of each student. He made me a better student too — by appreciating my background and all the quirks that make me who I am. He believed I could accomplish my dreams — he dreamed them with me and was invested in my accomplishing them. He allowed me to envision my future best self through his eyes.

I cried while swimming.

I think Beth sees the swimmer in me, even when I don’t — and she honors who I am, and where I am each week. She holds the vision so I can become the swimmer that I am meant to be.

 

Dear Shoney:  Yes, I have been doing this all along. I am certain that you will be a swimmer. ~ Beth

Fast forward twelve months: It’s January, 2014, just over a year since I started working with Shoney. She started to swim laps after I broke my pelvis in January, 2013, and could no longer teach her. She got up to 32 laps of backstroke and freestyle. When I finally returned to work and happened to see her swimming, I cried. She looked like a swimmer instead of someone who was learning to swim. I was floored. To have worked with her has been one of life’s greatest gifts to me. It was truly an honor.