Last Friday, I walked into the SwimLabs swimming school in Highlands Ranch, Colorado. This is where my oldest son takes swim lessons so I got the private instructor at a reduced cost. The school consists of 4 tiny pools. Each one has a current running down the middle. Ideally, when you swim you shouldn't travel at all, unless the current smacks your floundering body into the back end of the pool.
While I sat in the waiting area, 10 kids ran from one side of the room to the other. One bratty kid threw a bouncy ball at a wall and narrowly missed my head repeatedly. I glared at him and his dad to no avail. "Can't they see I am a nervous wreck?" There were live feed television sets along the upper wall where parents watched their child's entire lesson without having to approach the swim floor. "Enjoy the show everyone! I can guarantee this will be good."
Once called back, I met my instructor. Amy made it clear from the start that she had no sense of humor. Either that, or she was pissed she had to work with an adult.
"Show me your freestyle. That way we can know exactly what we are starting with."
"Yeah, I don't think that is a good idea." I cowered. "It is ugly."
She assured me that was okay, but when I stuck my head in the water and propelled myself 3 strokes before gulping back a ton of water, I saw her face. She displayed a nice mix of, "Holy shit. Really?" and "Now what?"
Deciding that working on my side breath was a good place to begin she told me to hold onto a bar while the current propelled the rest of my body backwards. She repeatedly reminded me to keep one goggle in the water at all times while I took my breath, but the water current kept whipping waves high into my shoulder, water boarding me at every breath.
Amy became increasingly frustrated and saw we were getting nowhere. Each pool is equipped with mirrors and multiple cameras where instructors record your every blunder. For at least 15 seconds at a time she recorded my half attempt at a freestyle, then would replay it so we could observe my humiliation real time. "Keep your legs parallel to the water." "Look straight down." "Don't jerk your head around begging for air." "That's nice, but this time try not to slap your arms down so, um, violently."
While we compared my crude video footage to that of Olympic swimmers on the internet, Amy accidentally left the water camera aimed perfectly on my crotch. Every parent and child in the waiting room got a 5 minute long peep show. You're welcome everyone!
For the next 15 minutes we continued taking video footage of my pathetic paddling. In that time Amy exhausted every idea she used on 5 and 6 year old kids. Snorkels, "playing catch up," kicking drills, floating, etc...
We were both relieved class ended. Honestly, how much longer could that degradation continue? After shaking hands wearily and saying our goodbyes, I headed into the waiting room to gather my belongings and find a changing room. Literally every parent and child watched me with a hushed sorrow as I entered. "Okay, guys. I know it was bad. But really? Don't judge. At least I was brave enough to try." I smiled at them kindly and even waved at a few kids wanting to prove I had nothing to be ashamed of. Inside however, I howled from pure humiliation.
The changing rooms were tiny, which was fantastic because I took the opportunity to collect myself. My room sported a floor-to-ceiling mirror which finally showed why everyone gawked as I left my lesson. My image didn't look like someone firing all cylinders. Those poor observers weren't sure whether to appear proud of my feeble efforts, or question if I was hearty enough to drive home.
~Roadburner
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