Swimming Granny

I've never been a very good swimmer. Okay, I don't really swim much at all. I took those *beginner* lessons when I was young and maybe even the next level after that, then moved to Germany where I did not live near water nor a pool for four years. By the time I returned to the US, I was in high school and too embarrassed to go to kiddie lessons. I've kinda faked it for most of my life and not very well. Yes, I can recall several people (who shall remain unnamed) making fun of my lame attempts to get from one side of the pool to the other. I mostly chose to sit on the side of the pool, lounge in the boat on the lake, float around in a life preserver or on a raft, and claim "I don't really like the water that much." Not a lie. You can't like something you are worried about, I don't think.

Oh yeah, there was that (what seems like) near drowning as a teenager, when my sister, my cousin Dennis and I went canoeing on a lake one dark summer night. My cousin was goofing around and turned the canoe over, all of us tumbling into the blackness. We could see the lights on shore but they seemed far away. He had to drag me to land. This did not help my comfort level around water. I've been snorkeling a few times in the last couple of years and enjoyed it once I got past the initial semi-panic stage. But water-baby I am not.

Hopefully this is all changing since I started an adult swim class today. Better late than never, huh? It was really fun, my classmates were friendly, we all encouraged each other to the max, and I'm even a pretty good back-floater. Who knew?