Saturday's entry was particularly serendipitous. The entry talks about fear and trust and using fear to quiet evil. It's kind of like reading your daily horoscope; if you try hard enough, you can find meaning or truth in the words. Next year, when I read the Dec. 12 entry, it will likely have an entirely different meaning.
'Specially because I will have mastered swimming.
"You must not allow fear to enter. Talk to me. Think of me."
I did a little praying in the days and hours leading up to my first swimming lesson Saturday morning. I decided to let go of my fear because, first of all, I would be surrounded by people I trust and adore.
Keith made arrangements for two better swimmers to work with me and another person who was in the same boat (pun totally intended) as me when it comes to swimming.
And, second, because fear leads to evil - gossip, hate, anger, lies.
This is what I learned on Saturday:
- Taking in large amounts of water through the nose is a great way to flush your sinuses.
- Clinging to the side of the pool will ruin a good manicure.
- Being muscular doesn't keep you afloat.
- The key to swimming is relaxing in the water and trusting the water (I'm still working on that one).
- Hiding the fact that I can't swim became such a habit, that I didn't even do it consciously.
- Hiding the fact that I can't swim was just silly.
We jumped into the warm water (Yes, 85 degrees feels really warm when it's 45 outside), and Rick and Cary talked to us about the different types of strokes and asked us where we wanted to start.
"We want to learn how to tread water," we both said. We'd huddled poolside and agreed this is where we needed to start. The beginning.
Cary showed me her technique, which was this frog-like movement. She was slow and graceful as her neck and head bobbed confidently above the water line. I tried her technique and pumped furiously to keep my chin barely above the line."Why am I working so hard?" I asked her, nearly winded.
She said it's because I'm too tense. I need to trust the water. Oh, poo.
Rick took me through some drills. I did the breast stroke, which feels very unladylike, and a thing he called "Superman," where I swam underwater with my arms in front and used my legs to propel forward. Tuck your chin, kick your legs, wrists together out front, exhale under water (or flush your sinuses), roll your head to one side and inhale air (or flush your sinuses) - so much to remember.
By the end of the hour, I was convinced I could conquer swimming.
I text messaged Keith later that day and thanked him for creating the opportunity. I have three months to learn to stop flushing my sinuses in the water because ... drumroll please ... I've decided to do a sprint triathlon in March.
I am all over this swimming thing.