I am not, nor have I ever been a noted swimmer.
As a child I watched as other kids jumped in with relative ease, wriggling their little limbs and propelling themselves through the water like little fish children. It seemed so simple.
My efforts were anything but. Entry into the pool introduced me to the bottom, not with my feet, but with my face. I seemed to lack any of the natural buoyancy attributed to the other children and the propulsion expected by kicking my legs was set firmly in reverse.
Asthma, an allergy to chlorine and bones made of lead did not make me a natural. So to help me fit in they added water wings, a flutter board, goggles and a nose plug. Boy those other kids must've been jealous of me. There they were, little naked fish children and here I was, inflatable foam robocop.
Swimming lessons were a must, so I took them, every year. For ten straight years.
Intermediate was the last straw, one of three comparatively tall kids in the wading pool still struggling to breathe and being forced to stand up in knee high water when it all went wrong, I felt no need to continue with this debacle into high school.
I talked my mother into supporting my decision and spent every swimming lesson and school swim day alone in the stands copying text from a phys-ed book in a hollow attempt by the teachers to both keep me occupied and punish me for my non-participation. It sucked, but not as much as drowning.
Over the years I have attempted to get back in the water, but never much enjoyed the humiliation. I know I suck, I tell people I suck, but to hear "I didn't know you sucked that much", can have a discouraging effect.
It is then with a mixed sense of expectant dread that I once again dive in. I've been wanting to for a while and the magnificent pool at my hotel provides the best chance I've had to whet my whistle. The additional added bonus is the total lack of *other swimmers. Also I've gotten fat and need the exercise
I purchased the hottest togs in the shop, goggles and a new nose plug. Mr Cool rides again. At least this time I will be spared the taunts of little fish children or peers who point out my ineptitude below the water line. Project jezsexification is go.
*falsely insinuating I can swim
As a child I watched as other kids jumped in with relative ease, wriggling their little limbs and propelling themselves through the water like little fish children. It seemed so simple.
My efforts were anything but. Entry into the pool introduced me to the bottom, not with my feet, but with my face. I seemed to lack any of the natural buoyancy attributed to the other children and the propulsion expected by kicking my legs was set firmly in reverse.
Asthma, an allergy to chlorine and bones made of lead did not make me a natural. So to help me fit in they added water wings, a flutter board, goggles and a nose plug. Boy those other kids must've been jealous of me. There they were, little naked fish children and here I was, inflatable foam robocop.
Swimming lessons were a must, so I took them, every year. For ten straight years.
Intermediate was the last straw, one of three comparatively tall kids in the wading pool still struggling to breathe and being forced to stand up in knee high water when it all went wrong, I felt no need to continue with this debacle into high school.
I talked my mother into supporting my decision and spent every swimming lesson and school swim day alone in the stands copying text from a phys-ed book in a hollow attempt by the teachers to both keep me occupied and punish me for my non-participation. It sucked, but not as much as drowning.
Over the years I have attempted to get back in the water, but never much enjoyed the humiliation. I know I suck, I tell people I suck, but to hear "I didn't know you sucked that much", can have a discouraging effect.
It is then with a mixed sense of expectant dread that I once again dive in. I've been wanting to for a while and the magnificent pool at my hotel provides the best chance I've had to whet my whistle. The additional added bonus is the total lack of *other swimmers. Also I've gotten fat and need the exercise
I purchased the hottest togs in the shop, goggles and a new nose plug. Mr Cool rides again. At least this time I will be spared the taunts of little fish children or peers who point out my ineptitude below the water line. Project jezsexification is go.
*falsely insinuating I can swim
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