Remembering the YMCA and 2 feet

This entry will be uncharacteristically cheesy. Ah well...

When I was very young, I was scared of water. I used to take the summer swimming lessons with my friends and sit on the edge of the pool, refusing to go in, even with a lifejacket or "floaties".

Then one day, at a beach at age 7 or so, something clicked and I decided I would give it a try. I was still timid, but I had made the mental leap of dealing with the fear. This "leap" was probably diving underwater and not-drowning for 10 seconds or so (ha!).

That winter, the local Y provided "yuletide swimming lessons" on either Christmas Day (surely not!) or Boxing Day. My parents signed me up and brought me to the Y.

I was the only one there. A nice, teenaged girl was the instructor, and did a fine job of hiding any disappointment at being one kid away from getting the holiday morning off. My parents watched through a tiny window from the reception area. (I'm not sure where my sister, C, was).

After 20-30 minutes of assessing my skills, the teacher gave me a challenge: to start at the deep end and swim all the way to the shallow-end of the pool, where she would be waiting.

I sat at the edge of the deep end, and saw her tiny form waving to me. I looked and saw my parents in the window; surely it was evident to them what was going down here. My little heart raced like a hummingbird. This was it: the bigtime. I was going to be a swimmer! If I didn't drown. With a deep breath, I pushed off and began not-drowning. I kicked like there was no tomorrow. I crawled awkwardly through the water. I sputtered, burped, and blew bubbles. With my eyes squinted shut, I blindly tore through the water in a frenzied battle for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, after 3 arduous minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. It was too much. Perhaps I drew in some water. Perhaps I was weak. I don't know, but I stopped swimming and popped up in the shallow-end, about 2 feet from the end of the pool.

I was crushed. 2 measly feet away from what would have been a miraculous achievement.

Well, next weekend, it will be almost a mile in a deep lake with no safe shallow-end. And like every swim at my current Y, I will think of that day, that teacher, my folks/family, and coming up 2 feet shy.

I'll be grateful for an active childhood and a supportive environment. And I'll make it all the way this time. All the way.

CC

ps. Hardly a newsflash, but all kids really should be involved in something athletic. It's a big deal.