Diary of a reluctant swimmer

Sometime in February, while on a break from work, I decided to get over and done with one of the items on my life's "to do" list. This is the abridged diary that I kept ..... Monday As I prepare to go for my first 3.00 pm appointment with my swimming instructor, a whole 39 years late, I keep wondering to myself, “why did I have to wait this long?” I have no concrete answers, but it was not a lack of opportunities having attended two schools that had pools and that took the time to introduce their students to swimming. Unless you are a very close family member, you will not know that I am not an avid swimmer. I have in my albums, photos taken in varying poses of simulated swimming- you see me waist deep in the blue Indian Ocean and various other masses of waters including bathtubs, rivers, dams and lakes. I even possess a few taken during a white-water rafting escapade in the Sagana River. The desire to learn this life skill was always there, and as the years came and went, the constant entry on my annual To Do List has been “learn how to swim”. But beyond making the entry, there was no further effort. The day of reckoning would be postponed decade after decade. I soon got married and got two kids who acted as an impetus for my swimming wishes. After all, what kind of father would I be if I couldn’t make a heroic dive to save any of my babies should they face a trying moment in the waters? But alas, eight years later, my seven year-old son is an accomplished swimmer bravely joining the rarified ranks of deep-end swimmers, while his three-year-old sister has graduated from the “baby” pool to the shallow end of the “mother” pool. So today, I will take the first bold step towards rectifying all that. I have paid for 10 lessons (the coach says that I don’t need that many, but no harm in improving my competence to national team potential!). When I get there, the first lesson is to submerge in water in the relative safety of the tightly clenched rails. The instructor insists that I go under water completely. It is hard staying under water, it feels like am being pulled upwards. On the third dip he wants me to open my eyes while under water. Wow! I can see under water. On the fourth dip he wants me to breath out while under water. Wow! I can hear the amplified echo of the bubbles in the water. Lesson two is (still clenching the rails) the dead man’s float. Facing downwards and hands and feet stretched out, I learn that the natural response of my body is to float. I also learn that to stay afloat, little action is needed since the human body is slightly less dense than water. Just relax-forget your unpaid bills, the pending school fees balances and Kenyan politics. Floating is such a sensation! The weightlessness is a new experience for me. I am glad that I got through the first lesson without taking an unscheduled drink! Tuesday Having learnt how to float, the day’s lesson is how to propel oneself in water. I am now confident enough to leave the rails and move five feet into the pool. From that distance I am requested to float towards the rails. It takes an eternity before I get to the rails and almost panic. The next lesson is how to kick the legs from the waist downwards to assist in the movement. By the end of he hour I am confident enough to start from the middle of the pool towards the rails by first gliding and then kicking to the rails. Wednesday I am exited and looking forward to the day’s lesson which is How to stop in water. So far, the rails have been my anchor and comfort zone. From the floating position, bringing your hands down and bending your feet upwards towards the chest ensures that that you brake and find yourself standing in the water. It’s a milestone lesson. With this knowledge, my instructor says I am ready to move away from the rails towards the center of the pool! Indeed I complete two widths of the pool by floating, gliding, kicking and stopping halfway for breath and repeating the same to the opposite end. This must be the most important day for me- the fact that I can move from one end of the pool to the other is the landing-on-the-moon –moment for me! Thursday The fact that I report for my lesson earlier than the appointed time is a sign that my enthusiasm is bubbling over. Today I am learning the human stroke by extending one arm, bringing it down and back to a point directly below the shoulder, then lifting it to a position just below the surface of the water. The process is repeated with the other arm. After about four attempts, it dawns on me that the honeymoon is over and the hard work starts. This stroke is difficult and I get out of breath too soon. The instructor assures me that am doing all right, but I don’t feel it. The co-ordination of kicking legs, hands stroking and still keeping the head under water and parallel to the water surface is taking its toll- I think I have over exerted the hip bone ligaments because I leave the pool with a sharp pain around the groin and lower back. Seems to me like the fun in this swimming experience has been taken out today. Friday The groin is aching on the left, making it hard to lift the leg up. The lower back is also feeling sore. At 3.00pm. I conveniently dig my archives for a fitting excuse! I pick the one about muscles and sporting injuries needing a day or two to recover or heal. I like it and I have no trouble filling the rest of the day with other activities after I adequately convince the small voice in my head that tomorrow is another day! Saturday The groin is not aching anymore, but the back has taken the pain baton eagerly. I will make a better assessment as the day grows. However, the afternoon comes and I think yesterday’s excuse has not fully withered and can serve another one day! After all, why stress the body before a full recovery. Tomorrow is another day after all. Sunday With the back now full recovered, I have run out of appropriate excuses and must go for the fifth lesson. It feels good to back in the water and I start by refreshing myself with all the lessons I have learnt so far. One week later, I am yet to master this one single swimming style and despite numerous repeats, it seems like I will not be getting this right, which leads to frustration. Until I can perfect the hand movement, I will not move to the next lesson my instructor says! All round me, I see portly men and women gliding with ease from one end to the other. I admire them and wish I could match their kind of proficiency. Today my son has accompanied me. The pool is a bit deserted save for three young girls who are playing loudly. This is my seventh lesson and with three more to go before the target of ten, the end is not far. I continue with the breathing practice. Swing the two hands at least three times before exhaling in the water and through the mouth. Hold out for as long as you can and with the left hand at the waist level, turn the head sideways and gasp a mouthful of air before continuing to the right hand after a similar count. I get the rhythm here and there, but it’s not consistent. My son also serves as the impetus to ensure that I get it right. He wants me to “race” with him across the width, and though he realizes that I am quicker due to my longer limbs, he pushes me to take at least ten widths. The more we race the less the pressure for me to breath right. The motivation shifts to ensuring I reach the other end quicker which works well because I realize that suddenly am able to take in two mouthfuls of air midstream though I am not able to sustain the hand’s movements for too long. Along the way, I get my first muscle cramps, but also get a breakthrough in doing the width without stopping midstream, with only two well-executed air refills along the way! Finally. Thank you God! I bid my instructor goodbye with satisfaction. He assures me that there are a whole lot of new things to learn about swimming including new styles that can fill the rest of my living days. I may not make the national swimming team anytime soon and I may end up being the awkward and struggling swimmer fighting with imagined turbulence as seen in pools countrywide, but I will always be grateful that I took the initial step and plunged in my shallow corner of the pool.