A Free Spirit's Bucket List: #67 Learn To Swim

Wading around my indoor pool.
I'm such a baller.

Learning to swim did not come naturally to me. Some people are like fish, they just have an affinity for the water. These mermaids and mermen learn to swim almost immediately. Me..... not so much. Don't get me wrong, I love water. I enjoy being around it immensely. I adore sailing on it. I relish wadding in it. I treasure relaxing by it.

But there's something not many people may know about me. I am also afraid of it.

When I was little, my mother signed me up for swimming lessons at the local YMCA. To this day, I still feel bad for the instructors that so patiently assisted in trying to teach me how to swim.

First off, I had to wear a swim cap. It smelled like stinky plastic and made my head really sore. Secondly, the stench of chlorine made my eyes and my nose burn. I despised getting water in my eyes. And if water got up my nose, total drama llama time. On top of that, I was completely petrified of drowning.

After months of Saturday lessons at the Y, I still couldn't swim without a white ice block looking thing attached to my back. I remember crying on the diving board when it was my turn to jump into the deep water. I had the floaty thing on my back yet I was still so terrified to jump off the board. No matter how much my instructors coaxed and reassured me that they were right there to help me after I jumped into the water, I just could not do it. If my feet couldn't touch the bottom of the pool while my head remained above water, I wanted no part of it. Sighs. Those poor, poor instructors.

A year or two later, on a family vacation to Wildwood, NJ, it was my father who taught me how to swim. You see, there was a nice sized pool at the Sandpiper Hotel where we stayed. I remember standing in the baby pool while watching my dad and his cousins swimming and goofing around at the deep end. They were having so much fun. I thought to myself, that's where the cool kids hung and I was so much not a cool kid. I was a big baby.

My kids chillin in the same baby pool I used to chill in at the Sandpiper in Wildwood, NJ.

Eventually I made my way out of the baby pool and into the 3 foot section of the pool. I crawled down the steps and hung onto the side of the wall until I realized if I stood on my tippy toes, my entire neck and head would remain above the water. I was still observing my dad and his cousins intently as my grandmother, mother and aunts watched us kids intently. A thick, chunky rope separated me from my daddy in the deeper water.

After our cousins left the pool, I said "Daddy, teach me to swim." And he did. He taught me the basics of swimming in the 3 foot area of the pool. He was very patient with me too. I felt a comfort in knowing if I put my foot down, I could feel the concrete bottom of the pool. I also felt comfort in knowing my dad was there in case something happened. By the end of the week, I could swim across the 3 foot part of the pool without putting my foot down.

My grandmother helping my brother Billy
float around the Sandpiper pool.

I also earned a wicked sunburn as well as a nasty bout of sun poisoning that week. I spent so much time in the pool, determined to swim without putting my foot down, that my young Irish complexion looked like that of a boiled crustacean. I remember vomiting in front of the window at the Diamond Beach ice cream stand because the sun poisoning was so bad.

My mother banned me from swimming and made me rest in an air conditioned bedroom since I was that ill. The bedroom smelled of chlorine, Noxema and depression. It really sucked. To make matters worse, I could see the pool from the bedroom window. I was supposed to be lying down for a nap but instead I viewed my uncle pushing his little daughter around on a dolphin inner tube. I felt like a human solar flare but was still pissed I was denied pool time. Why did I have to be so damn white?

My Childhood. I have to dig through my pictures and see if I can find any from Angela Park.

A few summers later, I really honed in on my swimming skills. My best friend from elementary school, Renee, often went swimming with her dad during the summer. She invited me along many times. We always visited the little, local amusement park called Angela Park. Angela Park housed a huge Olympic sized pool. As a kid, it seemed the aquamarine waters of the concrete pool spanned for miles and miles and miles. It was at that pool where I learned to no longer be afraid of going under water. In fact, I liked swimming underwater with my eyes open. There were so many legs and butts to see.

Renee taught me tricks like underwater hand stands. We performed different flips and acrobatic routines in the water. We rocked the sliding board into the water, but only when they had the little water stream running down the slide. Trust me, if the slide was dry, that pretty turquoise contraption could be mistaken for a medieval torture device that could chap your ass raw while giving you a wedgie so deep, you didn't have to floss your teeth that night. A damp, clammy, swimsuit clad butt going down a dry slide that has been baking in the sun for hours is a recipe for extreme pain.

Together, we practiced dives and fancy jumps off the springboards in the diving section. We even braved the intimidating high dive. The rush from jumping off a diving board nearly 10 feet in the air into the 20 foot water below was pretty spectacular. A few times I was actually able to touch the bottom of the pool with my toes. Not gonna lie though, a belly flop from a high dive hurts like a mofo. It stings like the wrath of 1000 bees. That shit hurt!

So many life lessons I learned at the Angela Park pool at the age of ten.

Soaking my feet at The Grove in
State College, PA

Eventually though, as I have gotten older, my love affair with swimming has waned somewhat. Once again, I no longer enjoy going underwater and try to avoid it when possible. Don't get me wrong, I still love swimming pools. It's just now I prefer to either soak in a pool or do a few laps around one butterfly style. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with chilling on a float or inner tube in a pool. That is some enjoyable, relaxing, life is good, kind of stuff.

As for lakes and oceans, I rarely go in further than knee deep anymore. A few years ago, during one of the girls' Wine Fest weekends, I jumped into Lake Seneca wearing just my undies because it was like 100 degrees out but honestly, I think that was one of the last times I swam in a lake.

There is no real reason why I no longer swim like the fish I once was either. I guess it's more of a preference thing now. I really enjoy soaking or wading around in the water more than anything. It is so relaxing and wonderful to me.

If the mood strikes me, I am sure I will go for a real swim again. I still want to try snorkeling in a gorgeous body of tropical water. I know I would love that. It is one of my Bucket List goals. I am also still very frightened of deep water. I am pretty sure I always will be. I just try not to think about it too much when on or near the water. Instead, I focus on the wonderful aspects of being around water because water is one of the most beautiful elements on this planet and being near it is pure joy.