I learned how to swim when I was a kid. You couldn’t keep me out of the water. My grandfather used to make me “dry out for a bit” on the dock at Lake Winnipesaukee until he got so sick of me pestering him that he let me back in the water. He sat for hours on the deck, playing solitaire and watching me in the water.
Thanks to proximity to the ocean (I grew up on the south shore of Massachusetts) my swimming wasn’t limited to lakes. I could body surf with the best of them.
But here’s the deal. I am trying for a triathlon. And my swimming wasn’t, shall we say, efficient. In fact, I could barely get yardage in. I tried to improve my own form, to no avail. And then I read that it was a good idea to have someone check your swimming for efficiency. So I joined the Master’s Class at the Y, and signed up for a couple of lessons. And I swallowed my pride (which is pro forma these days) and relearned how to float. And kick. And how to be streamlined. And how to breathe.
Learning (or relearning) as an adult is challenging because I think to much. And worry. I worry about hurting myself while running. Or traffic while on my bike. Or drowning while swimming. All legitimate concerns, but they overshadow the joy. And there is joy.
I have a long way to go before I am a strong triathlon swimmer. But I am better than I was last week. And for now, I’ll just keep swimming.