Greg and I took a month’s worth of lessons, meeting twice a week. Commuting to the Y was a pain but thankfully it was only for four weeks. The lessons consisted of learning how to do freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke, a few kicks and how to tread water. I rocked at the dolphin kick but failed at treading water. I simply couldn’t wrap my brain around the mechanics.
The best thing about the whole experience was learning with Greg. Greg and I don’t have a lot in common (yet we’re best friends, go figure). But what we do have in common is that we’re both late birds: learning or experiencing major growing pains in our 20s instead of when we were younger. Like learning to swim.
My favorite mental picture was of Greg splashing about as he attempted to kick while hanging on to a kickboard. He would grimace and spit out water. So cute. Not many people would agree that seeing their partner flail about is “cute” but I would disagree. On the first day he was afraid to put his face in the water and oozed vulnerability. Yet he was there, with me, trying to overcome those fears because I asked him to learn with me. But that’s Greg-always there for me. When I’m driving about and get lost and lose my calm, calling Greg, my form of GPS, always soothes and sets me straight. When I swear I am going to to quit my job he lets me know that’ll be okay because he’s there. At every start and end of all my races,he was there, taking pics along the way. But back to swimming. He spotted me as I tried to tread water in the 9 ft. section. When I started drifting away (scary!) from the pool’s edge he reigned me back in.
So by the end of my lessons I can freestyle pretty okay but still can’t effin’ tread water. Funny enough Greg got the hang of it. Maybe it’s because it keeps him from putting his face in the water, I don’t know. What I do know is that I can take my time learning to tread water, through life, because he’ll be there every swim, run, and step along the way.
Sappy, I know.