When I was eight years old my parents took me to Pauley Pool for swimming lessons. The public pool was probably 50 yards long but to a skinny little eight-year-old it could have been 1000. We lined up along the edge of the pool as instructed. I was shivering so much I’m surprised my swimsuit didn’t fall off. A very tall man in red trunks told us to jump in and swim to the other side. I thought to myself, “are you crazy?” The other side was very far away. Fortunately a rope with little buoys attached to it connected our side to the other side. This was obviously intended as a lifeline for me. So I jumped in, grabbed hold of the rope and started pulling myself across the pool.
The irritating man in the red trunks began pointing at me and shouting: “let go of the rope”. I thought to myself, ‘as long as you’re standing on dry land and I’m here in the water, I think I’ll hang on to the rope.’ He kept shouting and pointing, I kept pulling myself along the rope. When I got to the other side I pulled myself out of the water.
Later that day when I was finally dry and warm, I told my parents that I didn’t want to go back to swim lessons. I knew it would mean forfeiting the two dollars already paid, but I just couldn’t face another near-death experience. I was surprised that they put up no argument and just said ‘okay, maybe another time’.
The irony of this little story is that a few years later I joined the high school swim team, and swam the eight hundred freestyle and the 200 individual medley in competition. I still shivered sometimes but I swam a lot faster.
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