The Mommy&Me class. The first time my tiny toes pruned in the old Boy's & Girl's Club pool. I was only eighteen months old at the time, but my mom had insisted that she familiarize me with the water. She had never been a strong swimmer, and vouched her children would not have to fear the waves. Little did she expect that those once-a-week lessons would turn into double, or even sometimes triple swim practices a day.
What had begun as teaching me simply how to survive in the water, gradually transformed into teaching me I could not survive without the water. She had inadvertently introduced my love of the water to me at such a young age; a blessing that has certainly proven helpful in my swimming career later on. Thank you mom, for teaching me to swim without a floaty.
I remember swim team tryouts like they were yesterday. My two best friends and I, only six at the time, pulled our caps over our heads and suctioned our googles onto our eyes before we got into the car. Never before having swum more than one length of the pool at a time, our endurance was lacking, but the little technique we knew due to lessons made us eligible for the team.
Starting at the back of the lane, we giggled and splashed, never following directions and not caring much about improving our strokes. I remember staring at the coach with a blank expression when he asked us to swim 25 yards of freestyle, as if I knew that meant one length of the pool. I did not care to know my heat and lane at a meet--never mind what a heat or a lane actually was. I swam solely because my best friends made it enjoyable. I swam because they swam. Thank you my friends, for making swimming my happy place.
My first real cut time--the 50 Backstroke. I was eleven years old, at a travel meet in Vermont. I did not inspire to reach any goals up until this point. I was unaware I had made the cut until my coach came over and hugged me. Looking back now, I realized it was not the ability to swim in the championship meet that I had just qualified for that excited me when I made my first cut time; but rather the expression of pride on my coach's face. The huge grin from ear to ear; the sparkle in his eye. He anticipated that it would be the first of many. He was right.
Going onto my tenth year of competitive swimming, I truly understand the importance of a coach. He who believes in you, before you believe in you. He who sets your goals higher than you can imagine setting for yourself. The coach that plays a huge role in why you swim. The one who you strive to make proud, no matter how hard you must work. Thank you to my coach, the person who taught me to love the sport of swimming, and has pushed me beyond my comfort zone.
I do not think I ever really lost my flotation device throughout my swimming career. I believe my floaty has just changed over the years. Sure I do not need a foam noodle to hold my head above water anymore. What I have supporting me instead is the people who taught me to swim.
