I can’t swim. Well I can, but I hadn’t in perhaps close to three years. But in the spirit of the bucket-list, I finally did it.

I was on the swim team for one year when I was seven, so I thought, How hard could it be? It’s like riding a bike? 

It is so much more difficult than I remembered. I am so horribly out of shape, and the first time I went I didn’t have goggles (yes I went back). I also was getting weirdly panicky about not being able to breathe, and inhaling really intensely while my head was above water which just meant that I was swallowing a lot of pool water. I probably have giardia. 

I went to the Uris pool my friend who’s from San Francisco and swims in the Bay every summer. She swam from Alcatraz to shore one time. It’s like a mile and a half. She is a really good swimmer. This little fact conveniently slipped my mind when she mentioned she missed swimming and I said I’d go with her. We swim in very different leagues. 

One thing that made this even clearer was that there are lanes differentiated by speed: fast, medium, and slow. I am slow, she is not so much. The first time we swam, I showed up in my tenuously fitting one-piece that I got in eighth grade, no goggles, and a hope. When I took off from the side of the pool, I hit the water like a bat out of hell. I did not pace. I got really tired, and winded in the middle of the pool. Enter the inhaling really deeply problem, pool water in my stomach. I also couldn’t see anything because of the aforementioned goggle issue. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. I was beginning to think I had made a mistake. And I had to do something quickly because I was sharing a lane with two other people and they were gaining on me quickly. I desperately breast-stroke to the edge, distraught. I did swim for like half an hour or so, snot coming out of my nose, heart-rate probably close to 240. But I decided I wouldn’t let the Uris Pool defeat me. 

A week later, I came armed with goggles, and tenacity. I discovered that when I do backstroke, I can solve the breathing issue, since my face is out of the water and I can gulp as much air as I want. Things went much more smoothly. I still got really out of breath, and took some breaks, but backstroke and goggles were game changers. Though Uris Pool has now seen me at my most vulnerable, swim-suited, tired, snotty, and sputtering, I did actually enjoy my time there. It was kind of meditative. Staring at the ceiling, watching it slowly go by, unable to hear anything because my ears are underwater, and only able to see ahead because my goggles block my peripheral vision like a horse. 

And the sauna, oh where to begin. Such a wonderfully peaceful environment in which to eavesdrop on people’s shit talking, or to do a bit of shit talking yourself. Dark, surrounded by warm wood, it feels a bit womb-like. And I felt reborn myself, after hearing some drama about the [redacted] team. Truly a beautiful place. 

In conclusion, a positive experience. I am a firm believer in doing things that you’re really bad at, and I succeeded marvelously to that end. I think it’s good for the soul to embarrass yourself a healthy amount. So do something you’re terrible at today. Go fail at something. Take it from me, it’s worth it.

Swimming via Bwarchives.