Swim lessons aren't just for kids.

My physical therapist, Kevin, told me to start swimming for one hour, twice a week.  Problem is, I haven't swam laps in 20 years or more.  Mom and Dad, thanks for the swimming lessons, but sadly I don't remember much.  My first attempt in the pool was utterly humiliating and I knew I needed a lesson to get started.

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

Staying original. It is a week of new experiences.

Cheers to trying new things. 

First off, my dog demonstrated a new trick on Father's Day. After spending a few hours at brunch with my in laws, my neighbor rushed over to me literally freaking out.  "Jen, did you get my texts?"

"No, sorry.  I've been really busy and haven't checked my phone all morning."

"Yeah, well your dog is on the roof.  I've been trying to get him down for 3 hours.  Every time I go near your house, he freaks and I am worried he is going to fall!"

I thought this was a joke so I just looked at him very blankly.  I looked out on the roof.  Nope, no dog.  My neighbor and I have a pretty light-hearted relationship, so I thought this was a new prank.  That's when he whipped out his phone and showed me a series of pictures he flooded my inbox with over the last couple hours.  Nope.  Not a joke.

My crazy dog suffers from extreme anxiety.  Desperately wanting beer and an egg skillet, he launched himself through the window screen and got stuck on the roof.

Monday morning rolled along and after a painful physical therapy appointment I headed out for a three mile run.  It didn't go well.  I ended up on the side of the trail, wallowing in pain and self-pity, wondering why the heck I am doing this.

Somehow that self-loathing session landed me in the pool on Tuesday where I decided I would buck up and strengthen all the stuff that Kevin swears is broken about me, which I am finding is quite the ledger.  I lasted 15 minutes.  That stamina was with great thanks to my half-choppy breast stroke.  I tried multiple times to glide across the water effortlessly with freestyle techniques, but I would get 3 or 4 paddles through the water before I started choking down water and I inevitably panicked, which of course made me drive my feet downwards.  Once I realized I couldn't touch the bottom anymore, I panicked like a drowning chicken.  Humiliated, I was well aware of the girl next to me completing lap after lap and all of the parents watching their kids during a swim lesson.  So mid-flail I switched back over to the breast stroke with a look of pure insecurity, "Yup.  Totally what I was looking for.  This is going as planned."   I belong on the trails, not in water.

This beached whale doesn't want to return to the pool.  However, my groin pain resonates from the hips, therefore I need to work on hip strength and stability and I'm told swimming is the best exercise.  Swimming also allows my body the opportunity to increase its aerobic capacities without overworking my legs.  My physical therapist promises that once I learn to swim efficiently, the gains in my running will be exponential.  So, I am headed to SwimLabs today for my first private lesson.  Yes, there will be 3 other classes going on, all with small children.  No, I don't have any dignity left.

Speaking of dignity, Kevin (PT) poked the last shreds of it away in the most timely manner this morning.  Some days I feel like we are making great progress.  The next day I wake up and I am in so much pain that I can't run a few yards.  This push and pull is wearing on my spirits so Kevin suggested we make the groin sore today.  He wanted me to work for about an hour stressing the area ever so slightly so that when it came time to do his typical massage on the areas, we would know exactly where the pain initiates.  Our findings were really interesting.  The pain actually ends in the groin.  That's only a byproduct.  My pain starts along the outer reaches of the gluteus.   When he pushed on my glutes, I felt it in the groin.

So, he dry needled my butt today.  In 5 places.  And my groin.  In 2 places.  If you've ever had your butt electrified, it truly is an original experience. 


~Roadburner