Learning to swim (properly)

One of the promises that I made myself before I came away on sabbatical was to take the time to learn to swim.

I don’t mean I can’t swim, I can. Like many kids of the 70s growing up in Haringey, I learned and loved to swim in the numerous pools the borough used to have, helped along with the 50 free passes won for swimming 50 metres. My favourite was Durnsford Road Lido, with the spectacular, vertiginous high diving boards (it’s now Sunshine Garden Centre – near Bounds Green).

But, I was taught that very British breaststroke of David Wilkie, Adrian Moorhouse and Duncan Goodhew, much to the chagrin of my Australian father who like Mike from the public information film “swims like a fish” in that languorous, easy Aussie freestyle.

No – when I came down under, I wanted to learn to swim properly. Instinctively, I thought that relearning something that I thought I could do well might offer me life lessons. Without dwelling on this too heavily, this kind of “allegorical experience” is part of what my sabbatical are all about.

So I’ve kept my promise and enrolled for a course of one-to-one lessons taught by champion triathlete and expert swimming instructor Haydn Woolley and started today. This is Haydn in action

I know. Even the most confirmed heterosexual would have to admit that’s a pretty gorgeous sight. I, naturally, am rather less gorgeous, so despite Haydn videoing me throughout my first lesson and emailing me the footage for reference, I’ll be keeping the evidence of my “before” technique to myself (but who knows, if the “after” is shockingly impressive, it may find its way to my blog. No? Oh, okay then. I’ll keep that to myself too).

Haydn’s Tests

Haydn’s first test in the pool was just to watch me swim front crawl. He wanted to find out what idea I had in my head about what I think front crawl should look like.

Suffice it so say from my thrashing, windmilling arms, my mental picture of freestyle is Johnny Weissmuller as Tarzan swimming to save Jane – even down to the sped-up camera work. Apparently, I do everything too fast. The most important thing Haydn told me is to pause at the front of each stroke.

Pretty much like everything in life – I need to slow down to make quicker progress.

The next thing we looked at was my kick. I’ve never really known what to do when kicking my legs in front crawl, so (with Weissmuller’s Tarzan as my guide) I vaguely move them up and down whenever I remember. After Haydn’s next test, I found out how effective this method’s been.

Haydn told me that an average person would be able to kick the 25m pool length and back in around 1 minute 20 seconds. He expected with the flexibility in my ankles (which he marked 6 out of 10) and my running experience that I’d be able to do it in around 1 minute 5 seconds. With 4 marathons under my belt and countless half marathons, I shared his confidence. My time? 1 minute 45 seconds (and I conked out around 10m from the finish).

My leg strength and ankle flexibility, when not directed properly counted for nothing. Guessing what a kick should be was probably worse than no attempt at all.

Again, I saw lessons there (and ones that I’ve always known). I need to break things down to their constituent parts and ask “what exactly is going on here”. But it’s not enough then for me to make up my own solution – out there are experts who know exactly the right way to do anything (from my stepdad laying bricks, to Haydn’s freestyle kick). A moment sharing an expert view can save a lifetime’s ill-directed guesswork.

The last part of the first session was all about breathing. In contrast to what I found out when trying to kick, my main takeaway from this was not to think too much about it. As Haydn put it: ”Don’t think about breathing – it’s one of the things people think far too much about”

Amen to that. If there’s one thing that unites all the people I love, it’s their near constant refrain that I think too much about everything.

So perhaps this was the most important learning of all – instead of looking for allegory and life lessons, maybe what I need to is to relax, breathe easy, and just enjoy a swim…