Yes, I am 27 years old and yes it is true, I don't really know how to swim. Really this is all my mother's fault. She can't swim therefore she didn't bother teaching me how to.
At some point in elementary school she decided that I should probably take some classes and enrolled me in one at the YMCA. A beginners class, as in little three and four year olds. Needless to say, I was the oldest kid in the class which was not too embarrassing as my mother did this to me a lot (we'll talk about beginners gymnastics another time). I was also the best kid in class since I was the oldest and was actually able to follow instructions unlike the three year olds. I learned how to get from one side of the pool to the other and I learned how to hold my breath and float. Of course, right when they were getting ready to teach me all of the really important stuff like how to hold your breath AND swim at the same time my mother pulled me out of the class because we were out of money.
Flash forward a few years and I knew how to get from one side of the pool to the other and how to hold my breath under water by holding my nose (I am not the best independent learner). Not the coolest thing for a middle schooler. I avoided the deep end of the pool like a plague because I was just sure that I would start to get sucked under and everyone would assume I was alright because what middle schooler doesn't know how to swim. I never joined in on Marco Polo and never ever dove into the deep end of the pool.
In high school gym class when we did our swimming unit I was put into the "non-swimmer" group and allowed to just hang around in the shallow end and talk to the other "non-swimmers" i.e. losers while most of the class had to do laps and learn how to dive. Didn't really motivate me to learn how to swim if you know what I mean.
Now, every year for my birthday from middle school through high school I went to a hotel with a pool for the weekend. I know, how weird is that? But, you will have to wait for another post for me to explain the theory behind my birthday extravaganzas. Anywho, one year I decided I was going to try jumping into the deep end and touching the bottom. It took a lot of talking to myself to get to the point where I thought it would be a good idea. Finally, after much debate I held my nose and jumped. I successfully made it to the bottom of the pool and back up to the surface. I even made it back out of the deep end without drowning only to have my friend tell me that there was something horribly wrong with my face. Upon looking in the mirror I discovered that many of the blood vessels around my nose and eyes had burst leaving purplish red marks for the next week. I guess the pressure of the water was too much for my skin to take. I had finally gotten up the nerve to try out the deep end and this is what happens? Never again I told myself; never again that is until I was on my honeymoon.
My husband and I decided to honeymoon in Mexico so of course, water activities were expected. I was fine with the kayaking and boat rides but I somehow got talked into snorkeling. Little did my husband know that this was the worst mistake his life. First problem was that the guide warned us that there was fire corral in the water and that we should avoid touching it because it would hurt, duh! What the guide didn't say was A. what the corral looked like B. how to avoid it and C. the fact that all of the corral was about a foot below water which made it all pretty much impossible to avoid. Add that to the fact that I am not a swimmer, do not do well in deep water (hello broken blood vessels), plus on top of it I am klaustrophobic (yeah, I know) and couldn't seem to breath under water with the useless snorkel mask on. I made it about five minutes before I couldn't avoid the corral, tried to use my new husband to propel myself away from the corral (pushing him into it in the process), and asked the guide if I could just go back to the boat. The guide acted like it was no big deal and sent me on my way back to the boat. I guess he forgot to mention that the current was heading toward me and that I would have to be a pro swimmer to make any progress against it. After paddling and attempting to swim to the boat for what seemed like an hour, I made it back aboard exhausted, shaky, and worried that I had possibly killed my husband with fire corral. Of course he made it out alive but will never let me live it down and will never take me snorkeling again.
So, to sum it up for you, I am not a swimmer, nor will I ever be a swimmer. I enjoy a pool on a hot day but don't ask me to do anything but take a quick trip around the shallow end and then hop on a lounge chair with a nice book.
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