Stop fighting me

My earliest recollection of me and pool water begins during summer vacation (can't remember the year) whilst my brother along with our paternal Aunt visited our great grandparents in Tappahannock, Virginia. My brother was a dare devil and I consider myself to be one as well. During this vacation, my Aunt thought it would be a good idea to spend a day at a local pool.

Somewhere along my brother's young path he had learned to swim; however, that was not my story. I watched in awe that summer day as he dove from a diving board into ten feet deep water and come back up with excitement in his eyes. Repeatedly, he would jump off and swim his way back up top. Looking at my younger brother I thought I could do the same thing. After all, he IS younger than me. If he can do it, then so could I, I thought.

I bravely told him it was my turn to try. I was tired of sitting on the side, running my feet back and forth in the water, and watching him have all the fun. I wanted to have fun too. I had decided I was going to jump off the board and experience the same thrill I witnessed him experience. As he watched me climb the stairs to reach the top of the board, he said, "Teena, maybe you shouldn't do this." "What? Don't jump, I thought. I'm up here now." As I stared at the water below me, I became scared, but I was NOT turning around. Instead I closed my eyes and jumped. I hit the water (and what felt like the bottom of the pool) and panicked instantly. I was not coming on top of the water like I saw my brother easily do. Instead, I was fighting hard to meet the top of the water. The next thing I felt was the lifeguard trying to help. "Stop fighting me. Stop fighting me" is all I could hear her say as I wrestled with her and the water falling down my throat. I truly believe I saw "the light". lol. Talk about scary.

Evidently, the lifeguard pulled me above water. I coughed and choked up water while my brother, Aunt and other family members stood watching in fear. After catching my breathe, the lifeguard took an accident report and eventually my mom was called. Boy, she was not happy to hear what happened. My mom rarely used foul language when talking to us (me and my siblings) but that day things were different and among other things she told me clearly, "I better not get my a** back in that water". In fact, no one got back in the water that day or for the rest of the trip.

You would think an experience like that would leave me afraid of the water, but it didn't. Whenever I would visit pools or go to a beach I would still get in and my face wet. I thought I could teach myself to swim so I would kick hard and throw my arms in and out of the water but never quite move in the water. My then boyfriend (now husband) would appear embarrassed when we were at a community pool and I engaged in my "swimming". We were in Jamaica for this birthday (2009, I think) and we went to Rick's Cafe, a place notorious for tourist jumping off a cliff into beautiful blue water. I wanted to do it, especially since they had "lifeguards" close by. In short, he told me not to jump because he did not want to be responsible for giving my family bad news. So, I didn't jump.

Then one winter while living in Arizona he invested in swimming lessons for me (and him). I learned a few things but the sessions ended with me still not being able to take breathes while swimming. A few years later (at the ripe age of 37), I took more swim lessons and learned a few more things, but again, I was not able to get the breathing right. So I could swim as long as I didn't have to take a breathe and well, that is not really swimming. I now know how to float and I considered that a win. Admittedly, I learned how to do that by listening to my son's swim coach during his swim lessons and by ear hustling while on vacation in the Bahamas as a grandmother verbally instructed her grandson how to float. I did exactly what I overheard the woman telling the child and just like that, I was floating. Wow!

In order to be a triathlete I must learn how to swim, thus my quest to learn continues. With more coaching and time in a pool, I envision myself being a strong swimmer. It's what I daydream about in addition to dreaming of crossing the finish line and becoming a triathlete. I will not stop until the goal is accomplished (no matter my age) and I encourage you to have the same mentality. If there is something you want to accomplish but you feel you are too old, too fat, too slow, too WHATEVER, let it go. You can (and will) do great things when you stop standing in your own way. There is a saying that if at first you don't succeed, try again and I encourage you to live by this. Throughout my years of trying to learn to swim, I have not accomplished the ultimate goal, but with every new try, I improved or learned something new. It's only a matter of time before the goal is reached. And let me tell you, I can't wait to tell (and show) you when I do become a swimmer.

Until next time,

Live outside the box :-)