I haven't bought a pair of goggles and a swim cap in years. Actually, make that, never. Growing up in the 80s, my family had an assortment of swimming paraphernalia to satisfy every kind of water baby: from the serious and not-so-serious adult lap swimmers, down to the languid loungers (us kids).I did attend swimming lessons one summer. But being a sickly child with multiple bouts of tonsilitis throughout the year, my swimming 'career'—for lack of a better term—never really took off and ended way before I could stop gasping for air during the Freestyle. Maybe that also explains why the only strokes I am confident doing are the Breast and Back stroke. The Butterfly at this point is only a figment of my imagination.
But after recently signing up at the YMCA, I figured, why not swim again? At the sporting goods store last weekend, I had some sort of epiphany: I do like sports, I've done my share of them (martial arts, running, biking, rockclimbing)—but not seriously enough to unearth a competitive drive (or edge) found in successful athletes.
Looking back, when I was doing Taekwondo, I enjoyed the training sessions but hated the competitions. Back in climbing, I loved the daily trips to the gym and weekend climbs out of town, but again, hated competing. As for running, well, let's just say I dread the thought of training for a marathon.
I just want to enjoy these activities without feeling the pressure of having to win something. Or beating a certain time, reaching a certain rank. I revel in the quiet pursuit of that first drop of sweat, first ache of muscle, without having anybody gauge (or watch) how I go about finding my way back to fitness.
