For those who don't know, I posses very little innate athletic ability. I can run, only because it requires little to no actual skill, just endurance. Anyone who has stood, in a polyester-wool blend band uniform, next to college cheerleaders, knows all about enduring. I have fallen off a ski lift getting on, knocked myself out hitting a fence on the bunny hill, fallen into a stream with a back pack on and been unable to get up, (think turtle) just to highlight a few. However, there is no sport more terrifying, and humiliating to me, than swimming.
I am hydrophobic. I say that without exaggeration. I was born with this affliction. I took a bath until I was 15 to avoid getting water in my face. I wore a life jacket in our raft on our pond. Never mind that I was able to stand up, one can drown in a bucket you know. I successfully avoided all things water related, which was fairly easy since I live in a land locked, mountain state. Then the unthinkable happened. The school board decided everyone must take a year of swimming to pass high school. If I had known about homeschooling I would have staged a sit-in until my parents relented, but no such luck. It was horrific. Truly. Deep in her her heart, every nerdy girl secretly hopes that the most popular senior guy will break with tradition and fall for her. That never happens. And it certainly wasn't going to happen to me after aforementioned popular boy had to leap into the pool to rescue me. It might have been recoverable if he hadn't been fully clothed. After that I had to stay in the shallow end.
So when I turned 30 I decided enough was enough. I was going to learn to swim and it would be hell and high water combined. I signed up for an adult, beginning swim class at the rec. center. I was terrified. I have to admit the probability for humiliation terrified me more than the actual water. The first day we spent the whole time putting our faces in the water. Perfect! Just my speed. Of course at this rate, I was going to be able to swim by the time I turned 40. So, I asked for homework and drug my poor fish-like husband to the pool to help me. By week three the teacher told me to swim the width of the pool. After a month I could swim the length. The day I did it, the class cheered like I was Michael Phelps. I was the best in my class. Not hard to do when only one other person had progressed past blowing bubbles. And one woman finally got in the pool the last day of class.
It's possible I got a little over confident. I desperately wanted to do a triathlon. So, I signed up for private lessons. When I told my instructor I had been swimming a month and gone the WHOLE length of the pool, she was skeptical at best. Into the pool we went. I didn't know it was possible for someone to swim and bark orders at the same time. But for 30 minutes every week she swam next to me and barked and doubted and I swam. Mostly, because I was afraid of her. It turns out she was going to school to be a cop and had 5 brothers.
I swam and swam and swam. I made peace with the pool. That should have been enough. But being me I had to do a "real" triathlon in open water. Stay tuned for part 2
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