Cloud 9

So I've been hanging out up on proverbial cloud 9 since Saturday morning. Why? My swimming lesson, probably my best ever, went so well that I left the YMCA locker room feeling more pumped up than drained (my usual post-swimming status), a sensation so powerful that not even all-day rain, all-day laundry, and a massive clothing clean-out could dampen my spirit.

Despite promising the dreaded breastroke the previous Saturday, Nancy threw me a kinder curveball, inflicting the far-preferable backstroke upon me. Two months ago I was convinced I'd drown if I tried to float on my back, before countless failed (and flailed) attempts to relax long enough and deeply enough to float backwards finally paid off this past Saturday when I at long last assumed the correct position and floated from the shallow end to the deep end without assistance. Once backwards floating becomes doable, the backstroke is the next natural progression, I discovered. If you can float on your back, you can backstroke. 

Not me, but hopefully my backstroke will someday look like this. (Courtesy of www.videojug.com)

I still have a long way to go before my backstroke is as smooth, graceful, and effortless as Nancy's (her imitation of my arm movements was both spastic and hilarious!), but I can't ignore how far I've come since I started two months ago. Despite my perfectionism, I've learned that sometimes the victory is in doing, whether it's done well or not. Just taking that first shaky step is the accomplishment, while the mastery is merely icing on the cake. 

I'm usually so hard on myself, so impatient and critical, that I overlook the small steps that start the process. But with swimming, every baby step is something for me to celebrate. After all, eight weeks ago I was terrified to put my face in the water, let alone my entire head, and blow a single, miniscule bubble, convinced that I'd drown if I did. After my third lesson, I left the pool feeling dejected, and seriously wondered if I was wasting my time and money by continuing. I could have quit, but I came back stronger and more determined to swim, and immediately started improving.

Maybe my late start in swimming will inspire someone my age (or older) to take swimming lessons or try something else that they've always wanted to do but feared. I hope so. But regardless, I know I've inspired myself.